#and yet none of them could think of anything beyond the nearest love interest

[maggi-cube]

Legitimately when I was still into ya 15-17 the preoccupation with romance was what made me hate the genre… I felt like it was insulting my intelligence. Like I wanted to read abt kids my age shouldering circumstances way beyond their control like I literally had been reading in children/middle grade lit (ex: Animorphs? Hello?) and complex moral questions or even just Wow! Cool dragon! Knights with sword!

And I thought that there would be more of that as I got older so they’d get more complex and have more politics but it was like they got dumber. Ykwim? Like “So and So is 16/17/18/fucking 19 and thrown into circumstances way beyond their scope. It’s up to them to do XYZ in a society that has failed them or who cannot be relied on. Anyway what about this boy 🥺🫣” and it pissed me off every single fucking time bc it was inescapable!! Every single book!! And -1/10 times was it ever done well! Not even an exploration of codependency or something! This is not even getting into the complete absence of any other interesting dynamic no it’s a motherfucker named Pokemon LeafRain or SkywardSword smoldering in the MC’s general direction and suddenly the war and oppression is the B plot!! God!!

Also special FUCK YOU to Uprooted bc I was so excited about this mentor student dynamic and parent figure and oh she makes a move on this century egg ass old man and they smash. Great 👍 loved that so wanted to read that

[333sth]

dove. (frankie morales)

chapter i. previous.

pairing: frankie morales x ofc (’dove’) no use of y/n.

warnings: mention of ptsd/military service, language, violence, brief mention of torture/kidnapping, injury detail, fighting.

summary: frankie was going to propose, until dove found the ring and ghosted. even santi can’t track her down.

rating: mature. wc: 1.6k

next

Dove was a nickname coined by an old general during her training. He was a traditional man, though not disrespectful. It was a term of endearment that probably softened the influx of powerful women breaching into the male territory. He’d drawled, ‘I ought to call you Dove – I ain’t never seen a girl so swift, yet so fuckin’ lethal.’ She kept the boys in line too, he’d noted. When Benny got too reckless, or Tom’s temper ran away with him, she was the first to snap them out of it. In environments where peace was a very distant concept, she played the peacekeeper.

One time, during a two-month deployment in Nigeria, the group was shoved in the back of an ancient pick-up truck for six hours. Dove was wedged between Will and Frankie, sweltering in the humid air. The stale smell of sweat mixed with blood and diesel was permeating the air, and they were three hours from the nearest checkpoint. To pass the time, she asked them what they’d do if they weren’t special forces.

That was easy for Will – he’d be a teacher of some kind. Benny waffled about sports, making some brash comment about how he’s got to channel all his aggression somewhere. Tom and Santi couldn’t come up with anything that suited them more than the forces, which was not surprising. Frankie would still be a pilot somehow. Dove had never seen him more comfortable than in the pilot’s chair.

Dove dreamed of owning her own bar or café, somewhere relaxed and laid-back. A beach perhaps, somewhere quaint and peaceful, where the air is warm well into the late evening and the waves are gentle, collapsing onto the sand like white noise. She imagined the hum of conversation meeting tinkling music, beach lanterns dotted around the decking to cast an ambient glow beneath the stars. Maybe a chef on weekends could make bar snacks. Tom had snorted at that, throwing a jab about how she can burn the water they use to make their dried food sachets.

The men had recalled this conversation, desperately trying to fathom where Dove might have taken off to. It was met with an aching nostalgia for the type of teammate she was too. That conversation had been a tactic, a peaceful one, to prevent the terrible concoction of adrenaline, exhaustion and heat forming an argument in that truck. She was a natural tactician as well as a good friend.

Frankie had recounted each country they had been stationed and exactly how Dove had felt about them. She had loved Argentina, even when she got shot and Will spent three hours with his finger crammed in the wound to stop the bleeding. But she also liked Jamaica, Brazil and Hawaii. None of their contacts in the forces had any trace of her, not even Santi’s in South America. Her family were none the wiser – they brushed it off, her dad mumbling something about it sounding like her usual antics. 

All he had was a scribbled note that read, ‘I need space. I’m safe. I love you.’ It was folded neatly in his wallet, like he was carrying the last piece of her that he had. 

*

Mexico. That was where she was. A small town on the West coast that had enough life to keep her occupied, and the guarantee of anonymity.

If people asked, she was a retired nurse, which wasn’t entirely untrue. She told them she spent a lot of her career in humanitarian aid, to explain the occasional jitters on a rowdy Friday night and the nasty scars. There was a particularly gruesome one leading from the base of her throat up to her bottom lip from a knife fight. She told them it was shrapnel, flung from a collapsing building, and she was lucky it didn’t catch her jugular. The locals had gasped in awe at her heroism. She’d flinched against the memory of how her own knife buried into her attacker’s throat instead. 

A few days into her move, Dove had found what could only be considered a derelict shed on the beachfront. It was probably the remains of an old boathouse. With some help from the locals, she had restored the ageing planks of wood. What was spare formed the bar and some rustic furniture. She pieced together a jumble of second-hand bar stools, chairs and lanterns that made for an eclectic combination. It had character and history in its walls, rather than some swanky, expensive build devoid of any personality. It was exactly what she had dreamed of, huddled in hypothermic temperatures or insomniac in her cot at base, sleep beyond her reach.

It didn’t change the fact that every time she entered her bedroom, the old polaroid of Frankie pinned to the wall hits her like a ton of bricks. Frankie knows she took it – it was pinned to the fridge at their home before she left. It’s quintessential Frankie, sat with his arms folded to his chest, biceps straining slightly against an old denim shirt that was getting a little too snug post-retirement. It was at a barbecue, his skin tanned and flushed from a day in the sun drinking, tousled hair peeking out from the sides of a dog-eared cap. Every time Dove glances at it, she wonders if he still has that hat. 

‘Of course he has,’ the voice in her head snaps back. Any piece of clothing she’d suggest replacing would be countered with, ‘over my dead body’. The man was sentimental, a little too attached to his home comforts. She’d also bought it him in a seedy gift shop in the middle of nowhere as a joke. 

“To add some variety,” she’d said. He would never let it go now.

Once, Veronica had eyed the photograph on her mirror and asked, “Who is he then? An ex?”

Veronica, or Roni for short, had lived in the town her whole life until university. When she graduated and moved home to save money, she needed a job. Dove needed a friend, so she took her on as a bartender. She was young and giddy, but harmless. More importantly, she was too self-absorbed to notice or even care that her thirty-something year old boss had bullet holes in her back.

“Something like that.” Dove had replied, rifling through her sorry excuse for a makeup bag. She’d closed the bar early to have a rare night off in the next town over, which had considerably livelier nightlife. 

“You never talk about relationships. Or men.’ Roni observed, peering over Dove’s shoulder to eye another photograph. It was a group picture of the boys, huddled in the same fraying booth in their favourite bar back in Florida. “Looks like you were spoilt for choice.”

Dove scoffed, meeting her friend’s twinkling gaze in the mirror. “Shut your mouth. They were friends from work.”

“Were? Does that mean you can’t set me up now?” 

“They’re almost twice your age. You’d tire ‘em out.” Dove set down the lip-gloss she dragged out for special occasions. “Come on, I’m not getting any younger either. It’s already passed my bedtime.”

Thankfully, that was enough to amuse the younger girl into linking her arm and hauling her out the door to the taxi, no more questions asked.

*

The hollering of spectators and thudding of skin slapping against the mat was reduced to a distant buzzing in Frankie’s ears. It was dimmed by the incessant ramblings of Santiago and Tom, discussing the files Santi had put together on Lorea. He could feel the reawakening of his rusty military senses as he follows the familiar tactics, mentally registering his agreement or noting what he might do differently. He doesn’t vocalise it though, because he hasn’t even agreed yet. Joining the debate would inadvertently signal his agreement. He didn’t want that.

There was a shadow lingering in the space on the bench beside him. It was an empty presence, not Will, who was hooked on the cage of the ring yelling encouragement to his brother. Not Benny, thumping his leather gloves together with his teeth pulled harshly over his mouthguard, judging his competitor with a predatory glint in his eye. 

The opponent was a monster, but he lumbered like his limbs were filled with lead. Frankie notes that Benny, nimble and tall, will have a breeze tiring him out. Dove would have joked that it wasn’t worth coming, that they’ll be sat here until their asses are numb watching Benny play cat and mouse. His chest twinges. Sometimes it’s too easy to remember what she’d do, what she’d say. He wished he knew what she’d make of Santiago’s proposition. She always saw through Pope’s glamourisation and Tom’s greed. 

What Frankie misses while he observes his pitiful surroundings is Tom and Santi descending into a hushed conversation. Tom nudges Santi, “You got anything on Dove?”

Santi sighs, long and solemn, “Maybe.” As Tom’s face quirks in interest, he holds up his finger, “It’s just a hunch.”

“A hunch is better than what we’ve had in the last year.”

Santi takes a sip of his beer, casting a glance at Fish, whose eyes are trained on the floor and the swirling contents of his cup. He knows him well enough to know his thoughts are the only thing that have his attention.

“I worry about him. We all do.” Tom whispers. “Getting busted just made things worse.”

“Don’t get his hopes up, man. It’s nothing solid. It’ll crush him if I’m wrong.” Tom nods solemnly before Santi continues, “A friend of mine saw an ex-Delta in a bar, a woman. He knew ‘cause of a tattoo she had on the nape of her neck.”

Tom’s eyes widen. In front of them, Benny lands a sickening punch on his opponent’s nose, complimented by an audible crack. He’s barely breaking a sweat, dancing around as the guy heaves and stumbles forward. 

Santi’s gaze doesn’t break from the ring. “Mexico. I think she’s in Mexico.”

[therewasatale]

for I have sinned

On Ao3. 

Summary:  Alucard likes to mess with other priests, not just with Anderson.

Note:  Maybe I'll write a second part. It's on your choice. Does anyone want a chapter two for this?

The morning sun's dazzling light shone through the window, the light was only amplified by the clean white wall. The shadows were forced to retreat into the corners of the room waiting for their time to come.

And yet it wasn’t the strength of the light that wake Father Anderson up, it was the warmth of the rays. He awoke with a pleasant sensation, or at least a much more pleasant one, than the one he had gone to sleep with.

He allowed himself to stretch lazily. His shoulders cracked with a satisfying sound, and they were soon followed by the joints of his legs. Finally, there was no burning sensation, aches, or throbbing inside him. He turned around carefully on the shaky bed. Every wound he got from last night's hunt were already healed thanks to his regeneration.

Reaching down carefully, he ran his fingers along the ragged edges of his cassocks. He found more than a couple bullet holes. On his trousers there was a dark, yet still distinctly red stain from dried blood. He had to get new clothes. Unfortunately, he was sure that he would not be able to change into anything else. His temporary accommodation, a smaller Catholic church housed a priest who was at least three heads smaller than him.

Luckily, the car will arrive soon, which will take him to the nearest plane. And there was always a change of clothes waiting for him on those. He just had to leave unobtrusively, as Maxwell used to say a long time ago, trying to be witty.

As he got out from the bed, he glanced out the window. There was a tidy little garden outside, it contained two chestnut trees. Thanks to being around late spring, they were full of white flowers. The priest remembered his home, where similar trees grew in the much larger garden of the orphanage. Those must be blooming by now too.

He missed his home, sooner or later he became homesick on every one of his missions. But there were things only he could do, and he always made sure he could return home again.

Closing his eyes, he slowly rubbed his face. It was time to leave.

Before heading out he took one last look outside. Beyond the ornately decorated fence, people walked the streets, focusing on their own thoughts, most of them looked at their phone. None of them suspected that there was a priest watching them, a priest who was officially declared dead 50 years ago. That was the same day he reborn, in a way.

Anderson was about to leave, but along the fence he saw a figure making his way towards the church, he was wearing a long red coat.

The priest froze in his movements.

The figure's footsteps slowed down a bit. His crimson eyes were clearly visible, as he looked not just at the church, but directly at him. Anderson felt the hairs stand on the back of his neck, but before he could do anything, the vampire walked away.

He knew full well that that damned vampire should have left the town long ago. He himself got back at the church at around three o'clock in the morning, after they finished off the vampire and almost finished off each other. Unfortunately, local police put an end to their deadly dance.

Anderson's hands trembled. That bloodsucker should have been with his master a long time ago.

It took a few moments for him to calmed down a bit. Whenever he was near the vampire, there was always a kind of tension in his blood. He didn’t know where it came from, but it helped him focus on the bloodsucker with each of his senses, so he relied on it more and more. And the mysterious tension rewarded him for it because he felt the movements of his nemesis grew more predictable with each time. Despite him thinking only a couple of months ago that he was just a monster fighting on instinct, he turned out to be so much more.

Adjusting his coat, he opened the door of his room. He got around the building, heading for the main entrance, taking bigger steps than necessary. The rays of the sun made the white paint shine as it towered over the ground. As he passed the wall, nearby laughter of children reached his ear. If he remembered correctly, the school belonging to the church was just a few blocks away. The spring sun continued to warm his dark coat, in other occasions he might have enjoyed this quiet morning.

The giant doors of the church were wide open. Approaching them was enough to feel the cool air flowing out from inside of the building. A chill ran down on his arm and he instinctively pulled his torn coat closer to himself. His footsteps echoed as he passed between the rows of benches.

"Morning." His throat felt dry, and he needed to swallow.

"Hm? Oh, good morning, Father Anderson...It's indeed a good morning. I mean the weather is lovely." Father Saw sat on the very first bench, his eyes fixed on the altar even as Anderson stepped beside him. "How did you sleep?" The man could not be more than 40. His thin, lean figure was clothed in priestly reverend. The black formal somehow made him look even thinner than he actually was. In his auburn hair one could already see a couple of graying hair.

"Good." The iscariot carried ran gaze throughout the building. Tidy, clean, welcoming, these words came to his mind. He found the place more than adequate. Father Saw kept the house of God and the flock of God in order. Anderson felt some satisfaction. He opened his mouth to speak again but the other man was faster.

"Tell me, Father Anderson. I don’t want to be indiscreet, but do you happen to know a tall man in a red coat? He looks to be around his mid-30s. Quiet a striking looking man with long black hair."

Anderson's body tensed up for the second time in the day. For a few moments, he could see the shape of the vampire and its glowing eyes clearly in front of him.

"Why are you asking?"

There was a brief silence in the church. The only thing that can be heard was the faint o laughter of children filtering through the walls. Then a bell rang in the distance, signaling the beginning of their class.

"Father Saw?"

The man cleared his throat.

"I'm sorry, my thoughts wandered off a little." He turned his dark brown eyes towards Anderson for the first time, those eyes were hiding something. When he spoke again, his gaze turned towards the altar again. "Just out of curiosity. You could say that at least... The young man was here this morning, after the morning mass." Father Saw nodded, mostly to himself.

"What did he want?"

"Well, your friend-"

"He's not my friend."

"Oh, then, you partner, perhaps?"

"Not my partner either. Why did he come here? What did he want?"

"He came to the church to make a confession."

Anderson expected all sorts of answers, just not that. "Make a confession?"

"Oh yes."

"That bloodth-" He bit the sentence before it could be continued. "That bloody…man...came here? To confess?"

"Yes."

"And what did he say?"

Father Saw looked up at him tellingly. "It remains between us and the Lord. It's after all His business."

Anderson's mouth twitched a little, but he knew it wouldn’t be any use to insist. He forced himself to nod slowly.

"I see. The point is, I know that person. At least since last year. Sometimes we meet, I think the Lord sets him in my way as a test of sorts."

"Now-now, Father Anderson, remember that everything is going according to His plans." Father Saw smiled faintly.

Anderson raised his eyes towards the sky. This was undeniably so.

"He seemed like an interesting, person." Father Saw could clearly recall the image of the figure. He could see him passing between the last row of benches after stepping out of the booth. He smiled back at the priest, eyes that glistening crimson. It must have only been the trick of the light, that the priest assured himself again.

"So he confessed his sins. I would assume not all of them."

Fater Saw sighed slowly, not really knowing what to say. So, he did what he usually does when the situation becomes too awkward. He skirted around the topic and started on another.

"Well, he did a confession but first he asked about you. I think he was worried about you, Father Anderson."

He had to swallow a snort back and just nodded.

"He was worried about me, well, he didn't need to, the important thing is that he left and he won't return." Anderson muttered. The thought itself that a vampire dared to step into the house of God, was infuriating. And between two growls, he tried to ignore the tiny yet existing part of his self that was curious about what the vampire exactly confessed. "Anyway, thank you for allowing me to stay in the church. Now it's time for me to leave, if I'm not mistaken my car has already arrived."

Father Saw's let his shoulders sag a little. He hasn’t even noticed how tense they became during the morning.

"You're welcome, Father Anderson. Thank you for visiting to help us." Even if I don’t really know what was that you actually helped with. But the bloodstained trouser leg and the bullet-torned clothes were pretty convincing for me to not ask too many questions. Thought the younger priest. "Have a nice trip home, Father Anderson."

"Yes, thank you." The Iscariot glanced around the building once more. His eyes settled in the confessional booth for a moment. Then sinking deep into his thoughts and headed towards the main entrance.

 After Father Saw was left alone, he slowly rubbed his face and sighed deeply. He had eventful days behind him. First the child disappearances, then Father Anderson, whose arrival was announced only a day before by the bishop. Blood and injuries, and that man returned at dawn. And to top it off, that strange man and his confession.

He couldn't say anything because of his oath. Though it wasn't as if he had been able to say anything to Anderson anyway.

For years he had already listened to many kinds of secrets and sins and absolved many kinds of people. But there were still things that were able to shake and confuse him completely.

'Every time I see him my blood feels like fire, and I can't focus on anything else. He makes me feel things I forgot about a long time ago. '

Father Saw squeezed the bridge of his nose. It will be a long time before he could get rid of those memories. He could still hear the man's voice, which sounded so deep one could hardly believe it belonged to a mortal.

'I know it's bad, father. But I want to make him mine. I want to taste every part of his body and make him cry out from pleasure. And I want to make him beg for more and the best part is that I would give it to him. '

He didn't even know the man's name, nor did he know where he had come from and why and how a Catholic priest would associate with someone like him. What kind of people were those two? And how did they appear here as if out of nowhere. Even more importantly, did he want to know the answer?

He needed to get outside for a breath of fresh air. Decided Father Saw as he rose from the bench. He needed a change pf pace.

'Maybe one day, he will be mine, but until then I can only just watch and dream, father. Maybe it's a bad thing, but I can't change it. I just want him. '

He stood up a bit shakily and slowly crossed himself.

 The next day

 Anderson opened the door into the ornate office, inside everything seemed garish to him. He took a short glance towards the huge painting, taking up the entirety of one of the walls. Nothing has changed since he left. Part of him was a bit disappointed, he always hoped that Maxwell would one day realize that this opulence was tasteless and did nothing to help his work. He once tried to point this out, but his former disciple said the room was decorated like this for a long time. He also stated that the painting that Anderson despised the most, was a gift.

Now, sitting at his desk, the bishop ran his eyes down a sheet of paper and rubbed his forehead.

"Is everything all right, Father Anderson?"

"Yes, everything is all right." He replied succinctly as he walked closer to him. "Why did you call me, Maxwell?"

The bishop's mouth twitched a little. Almost every time he needed to remind Anderson to call him according to his rank. But for once he decided to overlook this.

"If everything went well, what is the reason for Father Saw submitting the request to the local bishop to be reassigned to another region?"

Anderson shrugged honestly, so Maxwell continued.

"This is the fourth time, Anderson. The fourth time you and that vampire will show up and within a few days the local priest request to be transferred." A sheet of paper was put into a smaller pile. Maxwell folded his hands into his lap and looked straight into his teacher's eyes, the priest stood his gaze.

"What do you mean, it's the fourth time?"

"For the fourth time. In two months. Even a Protestant would notice the fact that there is a pattern to this thing. I just want to know why the pattern exist so we can pay attention to it in the future."

"What did they say?"

Maxwell didn't even have to glance at the page. "Overall, they feel like they can't serve God enough in their current place. Their flock became too big, and they want to be in a quieter place." The bishop shook his head. "So? What can you tell me about these four cases? I know you finished the vampire, and I also know you ran into Hellsing's dog. But maybe something else happened too?" He slowly looked the man in front of him up and down.

Anderson glanced towards painting. The angels circled the saint in the middle, who reached towards the sky with an almost cathartic smile. In the bottom of the picture people were bathing in blood, their faces reflecting pure pain. The father could not stand this painting. The features of the figure in the middle, resembled Maxwell too much.

"Father Anderson?"

He answered after a moment's silence. "I don't know. I think they were just shaken by the deaths. They would not be the first or the last to ask for reassignment after a tragedy. Very few have to deal with literal monsters in their lives."

"Well, if I have to stand before the pope with that as an answer, so be it." Seeing Anderson's gaze, he lowered the self-sacrificing edge in his voice. "Thank you for visiting me. That would be it."

The priest glanced at the picture once again.

"You can go, Anderson."

"All right." He walked slowly towards the door, then turned back with his hand on the handle. "Sometimes get out of there, Maxwell. This place is," he continued after some thought. "You spend too much time indoors. And try to eat properly."

Maxwell couldn't hide his embarrassment, which made him feel warm at first and then anger mixed with some pride, but when he spoke, he tried to completely suppress the latter in his voice. "I'll think about it, Father. But I'm very busy these days, but I'll see what can I do."

The young man nodded slowly.

Anderson's mouth trembled, then he walked out of the office, leaving Maxwell behind. The bishop glanced at the painting and did not even notice the satisfied smile that appeared on his lips.

 For once, the basement was not in complete darkness. And this was also one of those rare occasions when the vampire didn’t spend all his time shut in there.

"If you had seen the face of that priest, Walter!" Alucard laughed sincerely, holding his glass towards the butler. "And his voice. It became just as high pitch as the others when they realized what we were going to talk about. Or what kind of sins they needed to absolve me from."

"I can only guess what kind of horror he had to go through thanks to you." He filled the glass of wine and then sipped a little from his own cup, with a small smile playing on his lips. "How many priests was blessed with the chance to gain insight into your worries?"

"This was the fourth." The vampire grinned contentedly. "I have almost forgotten how refreshing it can be when a man is freed from the burdens of his soul." He drank slowly from the wine. "A fraction of them at least."

"Refreshing? You mean fun." Walter glanced at him and crossed his legs. He was sitting across Alucard in a comfortable armchair that had been recently brought down into the basement.

"Combining the pleasant with the useful?"

The butler snorted and then chuckled under his nose. "I don't even want to know what exactly you said to that poor soul."

Alucard's grin widened, his eyes gleamed brightly as he remembered back to yesterday morning. Even now he could clearly recall the stuttering voice of the priest. He was just as shocked as the three others when he entered the confession booth. But he had to admit, so far all four had endured and none of them fled from him.

"I wonder where you got this idea from?" Walter shook his head with a smile.

"Actually, we owe it all to Anderson. He was the one who told me a few months ago, during one of our hunts, that a monster of my own kind would never be able to cleanse itself of its sins. Even if I apologized all my life."

"And of course, you took that as a challenge."

Alucard chuckled deeply. "I took it as a good advice, Walter, good a good advice from a good friend."

"A good friend, I see." He put his cup back on the tray.

"In the beginning, I just wanted to upset a priest. But since then, more and more new things have appeared in mind, and whenever I confess, I think it will be the last one. But it never is."

"Oh, I wonder why that is."

Alucard raised an eyebrow at the butler but received only a small chuckle in response.

"Either way, I'm glad you managed to get yourself something to occupy your time. Of course, in addition to constantly upsetting Anderson and provoking every meeting of you two into a battle."

"Not every meeting." Corrected it, a little maybe arbitrary, Alucard.

"Oh?" Walter chuckled as the vampire just snorted. "Still, try teaching Seras something more useful over time if possible."

"As soon as she starts consuming blood properly." Alucard waved it off. "What?" He raised an eyebrow as he caught the look in Walter's eye.

"Nothing." The butler shook his head and stood up picking up his tray. "But it's time for me to go, the dinner won't serve itself."

Alucard finished his glass, murmuring slightly. "Always on duty."

"Well, not everyone is lucky enough to have fun at work." Walter left the basement with a telling smile. "Have another nice night, Alucard."

"Hm," the vampire refilled his glass, then began to swirl it around slowly, watching the red liquid splash around the edge of it.

The passage of time was hard to tell inside the cellar, at least for an average person. Alucard could feel it without mistake when the day turned to night, or the breaking of dawn. However, he hasn’t really bothered with the passage of time since long ago. He could afford his thoughts to roam freely.

'Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.'

Alucard still had to laugh. He doesn't need forgiveness, hell, he would never ask for it. But what would he say if Anderson would offer him forgiveness? How would he react? How soon would he stab the bayonet through the wall of the confessional? Or what if he would just listen? And if he could sit through it all? After all, he is still a priest, a bloodthirsty, fiery, and fighting priest.

The vampire's eyes flared up with an even more vivid red. His excitement was similar to when he fought with Anderson, be it side by side or against each other.

He drank slowly from his glass.

Maybe...there could be a way.

He placed his empty glass on his desk. Then, he got up from his chair and walked through the walls into the garden. Outside, he looked up at the clear sky and smiled at the silvery light of the moon. It was really beautiful today, - The thought ran through his mind. -, almost as much as Anderson’s eyes when he is fighting.

He paused for a moment.

"Well," he chuckled deeply. It seemed that even his own thoughts could surprise him from time to time. Well, he had a lot to think about.

[seraphanangelica]

Can I please have scenarios or headcanons on how bnha characters (any that you like) would handle dealing with a ghost with their s/o who totally believes in the supernatural? Thank you in advance

I absolutely love this idea! As a firm believer of the supernatural myself, there was absolutely no way I could delay this response. So here you go!

How They And Their S/O Would Deal With Ghosts

💥This guy has only seen or heard about ghosts and spirits from horror movies. That’s all he cares about them. If they’re not in a movie, they have no existence. Of course, every time he says something along those lines, you roll your eyes and laugh to yourself at his blatant lack of attention to the supernatural.

💥You’ve tried, many times to prove just how real they were. And every single time it would go like this:

💥”I’m telling you, Katsuki, I’ve had experiences with them. You just don’t think they’re real becuase you haven’t.”

💥”Your experiences are just things you don’t want to give logical explanations to, dumbass.”

💥His point is proved further when nothing happens. And nothing happened for days after the last time you two had the repetitive conversation.

💥One day, as Katsuki woke up before you, he got out of bed and proceeded to go about his completely non-paranormal life. After giving you a light kiss on your forehead, he went downstairs to start preparing breakfast.

💥He stopped mid-stair though, as he heard another pair of feet pattering down the stairs behind him at a much quicker and softer pace. At first he thought it was you that had gotten up earlier than usual to spend more time with him in the mornings. He turned around to greet you with a smirk, his face falling slightly when he saw no one around.

💥Paying it no mind, he finished descending the stairs, and continued into the kitchen.

💥In the middle of sautéing vegetables, Katsuki reached out to grab the bottle of olive oil that sat on the counter to his left. He froze mid reach as he saw the barstool behind him rotate as if someone were sitting there out of the corner of his eye.

💥”Oh hell, no.” He still refused to take into account anything you’ve said about the matter.

💥Twenty minutes later, you were downstairs and eating breakfast, in the barstool next to the one that moved. You watched in curiosity as Katsuki leaned against the counter in front of you, crimson eyes darting from the empty seat then to you, then back again.

💥You were concerned, to say the least. “Katsuki, are you alright? You’re acting weird. Come sit down.”

💥He only shook his head and took a deep breath, looking you in the eyes. “Tell me about everything you know about ghosts. Now.”

💥And so you did. You told him everything you’ve been trying to tell him since you’ve known each other. The only difference was that this time, he was actually listening as if it were real and not a story.

💥When you finished he shook his head. “Look, I still don’t believe in this ‘ghost’ stuff, but-“ crash!

💥You’re heads snapped over to the source of the sound, your eyes settling on the plate that used to be next to Katsuki. It was now shattered on the floor, the pieces spreading out farther than the counter span. You knew Katsuki was freaking out but concealing it on the outside.

💥You couldn’t help but smile at your husband as his eyes still focused on the broken dish. “Don’t belive me now? We both know that dish was no where near the edge.”

💀Dabi would be disbelieving, but open to conversation. People talk about anime, right? It’s not real but makes for great small talk. He’d also be stupid. Very, very stupid.

💀The day he walked into the League of Villain’s hideout with an Ouija board under his arm, you thought he’d finally lost his mind.

💀”Are you crazy? Do you know the kind of stuff that happens when you use one of those things? You don’t know what you’re letting in!” You tried to reason with him, even coming up with ways to dispose of it without his knowledge. Unfortunately for you, he knew what you were up to and hid it.

💀”Oh come on. It’s just a little fun,” he teased you one night when he bagan setting it up in the center of your shared room. “What’s the worst that happen?”

💀”Asking ‘is anybody there’ is the stupidest thing you can do becuase thats inviting anything to come into the space. Secondly, you don’t know how to protect yourself against that kind of thing. The worst that can happen is possession, Dabi.” You scolded, leaning against the wall farthest from the board.

💀”Relax, Doll. I have someone in mind, actually. He didn’t really matter much, but I picked this from his wallet,” he reached into his pocket and tossed an ID card in your general direction. “See? Perfectly fine.”

💀It was not perfectly fine. You reluctantly joined him in the game, placing your fingers on the planchette, cringing with every subtle movement the burnt boy made. Because you didn’t want to do this in the first place, you let Dabi carry out the ‘ritual’.

💀As you would’ve guessed, the moment Dabi’s target was acquired, the planchette began moving, much to your dismay. Slowly, the letters formed a sentence. ‘You killed me.’

💀You shot a glare at your boyfriend. “What the hell did you do? Did you seriously just kill a man to contact him?”

💀He shrugged. “I caught the guy stealing from the convenience store, he had to go.”

💀”YOU STEAL FROM CONVENIENCE STORES!”

💀After you both said ‘goodbye’, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being watched. It practically consumed you as the next hours passed, your eyes always finding themselves back to the abandoned board that still laid on the floor.

💀”WHAT THE FUCK!?” Dabi shouted from the bathroom, his voice one of surprise and confusion. You darted into the small room, expecting a prank left by Twice or blood left by Toga (it happens), and to be pretty honest, you were expecting this too. From the mirror, you could see eight distinct and parallel scratches on his back, too fresh and too deep not to be ignored.

💀Without a word, you bounded over to the closet and wrenched the doors apart with a set purpose. Pushing clothes out of the way, you pulled out an old chest you stored wherever you stayed. Opening the wooden box, you pulled out a match and a bundle of juniper and sage. Lighting the end of the dried herbs, and opening the nearest window, you let the smoke drift to all corners of the room.

💀Dabi watched in confusion and amusement as you walked towards him and started waving the herbs around him, cleansing him as well as the room.

💀”Y/N.”

💀“What, Dabi?”

💀”We should do it in a graveyard next time. This Halloween.”

💀”Fucking Samhain? Are you out of your goddamn mind?!”

💀He believes in ghosts now, so you had that going for ya.

🥦Midoriya would be skeptical about it. As someone who never rules out any possibilities, he has a wide range of knowledge towards that kind of thing. You never knew if someone had a quirk that could control the spirits of the dead.

🥦When you told Izuku that you see dead people, he honestly thought you were quoting The Sixth Sense. You were, in a way. In the same way you were being serious.

🥦You sat on the couch in the living room, remote in hand as you got ready to start a Marvel movie marathon when your fiancé got back from the store downtown. He got called in when someone was murdered just outside, appearing to have been trying to steal some food and magnets. Why someone would try to steal magnets from the convenience store was beyond you.

🥦Sighing, you settled into the cushions, and turned on the TV. Soon you began playing Netflix as you waited. You felt the couch dip next to you. No one was home but you, and you hadn’t heard Izuku get back yet. This was the time she came out.

🥦You faced the girl that sat next to you with a smile. “Looking for Izuku?” She nodded. “He’s not home right now, but you’re welcome to stay with me until he gets back if you like.” She thought for a minute, running a hand through her long hair, then nodded again.

🥦You scrolled through various shows until she pointed at one that sparked her interest. You began playing ‘Supernatural’, watching her reaction to each of the Winchester Brother’s ghostly adventures. “What, it’s not accurate? There’s got to be something that’s right.” You teased.

🥦The girl laughed, the sound never reaching your ears, and shook her head, continuing the show anyway.

🥦A couple episodes later, you heard the sound of keys turning in the lock, signaling your fiancé’s return. You turned to warn the girl, but she was already gone. She liked Izuku, but she was shy; something you learned upon meeting her. “He wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, you know.” You told her in a low voice as Izuku stepped into the house.

🥦He gave you a smile. “Hey, sorry for being gone so long,” he held up a plastic bag full of sweets. “They gave this to me as a thank you for helping them, so now we have even more marathon snacks.” Setting the bag on the counter, he wrapped his arms around you, giving you a firm, loving kiss to your forehead.

🥦”It’s fine, Izu. You weren’t gone that long. I had plenty of company.” You returned the hug, your last statement directed to the girl who was now peeking in from the doorway.

🥦The movie marathon was a blast. You nerded out, quoting almost every line from every movie you watched that night. The girl warmed up to Izuku, you noticed, as she sat on the floor in front of him almost as if she were nervous to sit next to him.

🥦”You can sit next to him, kid. He won’t mind.” You told her. Both pairs of eyes snapped up at your speech.

🥦Izuku looked around to see if there were any unknown guests, turning back to you when he saw none. “Uh, Y/N?”

🥦You ignored him and continued. “He’ll be nervous at first, but he’ll warm up to you. Go ahead. You were in this house long before we came here.”

🥦Izuku screeched like a banshee when he felt the couch sink next to him. Like he was a cartoon, he jumped into your arms, clutching you like he was afraid to lose you. The poor panicked boy didn’t know what to do.

🥦So, you began explaining all that you knew about your abilities, or extra quirk as he said. The girl never left, quite amused by the interaction. Izuku never really calmed down. Sure he’s prepared for it in his journals, but he never thought there would be a day.

🥦”I told you ‘I see dead people’.”

🥦”Y-yeah, I guess you did."

[justkeeptrekkin]

Brief Omens

An ineffable wives drabble- Brief Encounters inspired- that I wrote in collaboration with the amazing artist @selene-yoshi-chan ​, her pictures posted here with her agreement! This was fun to write, and I can’t believe how beautiful the illustrations are- thank you friend.

You can read it on AO3 here, or read under the cut! MORE ILLUSTRATIONS BELOW!

***

The weather is grey today. A strong breeze rolls over from the hills, tumbling into the valley of Devil’s Dyke. Aziraphale chose the meeting place herself. She thought that Crowley might find it amusing. 

This isn’t really a breeze, so much as a strong wind- it’s displacing her styled hair. Fashion has never interested Aziraphale in the same was as it fascinates Crowley, but the 40s really do have some smashing hairstyles and clothes. Now that the War is over, high-street shops are beginning to pop back up again, putting on their lights once more and dressing their mannequins with all manner of hats and a-line skirts. Of course, much of London remains destroyed from the Blitz. West Sussex, at least, has survived. 

Aziraphale lays her manicured hands on the wooden bridge, peers down at the burbling stream below. The water is clear, enough that she can see the smoothe rocks at the bottom. She can’t see her reflection, only the vague shape of her cream suit, orange and brown leaves floating along the surface.

She breathes in. She breathes out. She is nervous. 

“Morning, angel.”

She spins around- she doesn’t know why she’s surprised to see her here, she invited her. And yet Crowley has a habit of slinking up to her without warning, especially with this noisy wind covering the sound of her footfalls. 

“Hello, my dear,” Aziraphale says too quietly. She clears her throat. “You got here quickly.”

“Yeah. I drove up last night and stayed the night a little further into the South Downs. Beautiful part of the world, this, isn’t it?”

Aziraphale simply nods. She continues to rest her hands along the rough, mossy wood of the bridge, but her gaze is on Crowley; her red hair spilling out of a silver snake hair-pin, curls tickling the sides of her neck. Red lipstick. Aziraphale wouldn’t dare to try a lipstick that shade, but she’s always wondered how it would look on her. How it would look if Crowley kissed her and left a taste of it on her lips. 

Yellow irises dart over to Aziraphale. She stops staring and looks away promptly, watching the rolling green hills. With the lack of rain recently, the grass is turning a greyish green and blending into the sky. The clouds beyond make the horizon hazy, like a weak watercolour painting. 

“What was it you wanted to discuss,” Crowley asks, all business. Her sunglasses don’t conceal peripheral gaze- Aziraphale can see her staring out at the view beyond. She’s avoiding eye contact, Aziraphale realises. And it’s not just the square shoulders of her jacket that make her look tense. 

“Um,” Aziraphale says. She feels herself panic. She feels her eyes widen and her chest rise with a too-deep breath. “It’s- not all that important really.”

That gets Crowley to turn and look at her, brows furrowed. “What? Why are we meeting here then? We could have gone to any of our normal meeting places.”

“I know, but I rather thought that we might like to try somewhere new,” Aziraphale says. 

What she doesn’t say is that she had an inkling that Crowley would like the South Downs- Devil’s Dyke and all. She felt that it might be nice to try somewhere different with expansive views, rolling hills, little tearooms. And none of the World War II rubble. Something a little more- romantic. 

Crowley pokes out her bottom lip. Then, nods in concession. “Alright. Devil’s Dyke, though?”

“Yes.”

“A bit tongue-in-cheek for you,” Crowley says, sounding impressed. Then a smile grows on her lips. Firey red hair dancing in front of her face. “I like it.”

They stand side by side on the little bridge. They’re the only people (beings) here for miles. The wind pours down, and it makes Aziraphale’s ears ache. She looks down at her shoes- totally inappropriate for a country walk, but pretty. Crowley has been more sensible and put on some leather boots. 

“Crowley.”

“Angel.” She says it like she’s been waiting for them to get down to business. Waiting for them to discuss something serious, perhaps The Arrangement. 

“Back at the church, during the Blitz,” Aziraphale starts. She swallows, her throat raw from the cold air. The stream trickles happily, singing a gurgling song below. “At the church, you saved my books for me.”

Crowley looks dead ahead and doesn’t move. Aziraphale doesn’t miss the way her fingers clench on the wooden fence of the bridge. 

“Yes,” she replies slowly, quite primly. 

She has been dreading this moment. She has fought with herself over this decision for months. But after what Crowley did- 

Inside her handbag, Aziraphale finds a tartan flask. It looks so innocent, nestled amongst the packets of tissues and lipsticks. She removes it carefully, placing it on the fence. And if Crowley wasn’t tense before, she certainly is now; she straightens beside Aziraphale, red lips parting in silent surprise. Brows pulled together, raised above her sunglasses. 

Aziraphale keeps a hand on the flask, holds it there between them, waits for it to sink it.

“Angel…”

“Holy water won’t just kill your body,” Aziraphale interrupts. She has to say this, before Crowley thinks she’s doing something nice for her. “It will destroy you completely. But I can’t have you risking your life, not even for something dangerous.”

Crowley is staring at her- Aziraphale can sense it. She can see her floundering. She’s speechless in a way that Aziraphale’s never really known before. There isn’t even the usual garbled stream of noises coming out of her mouth when she loses her words; it’s just silence. Aziraphale has stunned Crowley to silence. 

She clears her throat, feeling her wind-bitten cheeks heat up. “Don’t go unscrewing the cap.”

“You did this for me,” Crowley says, almost too quietly over the wind.

And then Aziraphale turns to look back at her. Her hair is caught in the breeze. Crowley is so beautiful. Aziraphale always knew, always found her beautiful, even when she pretended she didn’t. But now- now, it’s impossible to ignore. How had she managed to ignore it for so long? How deluded has Heaven made her, that it took this long? Aziraphale is a being of love; it’s absurd that she hadn’t been able to see the wood for the trees until that bomb destroyed that church, Crowley handing over a briefcase, hands touching. Just for a moment. 

“Anything,” Aziraphale whispers.

She isn’t sure whether Crowley hears. If she didn’t, then that would be OK. Some things aren’t meant to be. 

They look over at the view again. Crowley takes a moment to pick up the flask and put it in her own purse. 

“I haven’t been as far as Ditchling before,” Crowley says suddenly, voice too light. “‘S where I’m staying at the moment. I’ve- I’ve only been as far as Hastings.”

Aziraphale goes along with it. “I helped evacuate some children here, during the worst of the War.”

“Ah. Yes. I was mostly in Liverpool helping out with that.”

Aziraphale frowns, registering this. When she tries to find answers in Crowley’s expression, she only sees her own white-blonde hair in her face and Crowley’s turned away. “You helped with the evacuations?”

“Yes,” she says sharply.

“That’s awfully… good of you.”

There’s a twist to her lips as she fights back a retort. “They were very naughty children, I assure you. Wales was traumatised by their arrival.”

She is too much. Oh, she is just too much. Aziraphale smiles at her, even though she won’t look back. “You are quite… something, Crowley.”

Crowley sneers. Aziraphale ducks her head and hides her smile. 

A single seagull flies overhead. The aren’t that close to the sea- it must have flown over from Brighton. It coasts on the wind. The air is fresh here, unlike London. Aziraphale breathes it in deeply, and tries to save it there. Save it for when she needs it in the coming days. 

“Are you happy?”

She doesn’t expect the question. She doesn’t even really understand it. “I’m sorry?”

Crowley hesitates, bites her lip. Then, “Do you ever ask yourself whether you’re happy? With the way things are?”

Constantly, Aziraphale thinks, but she never admits it to herself. No, she sees those kinds of questions float through her head and she banishes them to some bottomless pit in her mind. A pit that doesn’t feel so bottomless these days; all the doubt and confusion and questions she’s wanted to ask Heaven and Hell and God are piling up and starting to overflow. It’s only a matter of time before she decides she won’t be able to hide it anymore. 

Crowley is watching her, waiting for her answer as she thinks on this. 

“I don’t know,” she says, eventually. “Am I happy? Oh, Crowley. I don’t know.”

“Don’t you hate not knowing?” She rushes. “Don’t you ever just…”

Crowley trails off. Her hand rests against the fence beside Aziraphale’s. 

“I suppose you don’t ask questions, not being the snake of Eden,” Crowley eventually finishes. 

Aziraphale doesn’t know what to say. She doesn’t know what she thinks. Any opinions she has are obscured under layers and layers of Heavenly instructions and Bible verses and ineffable plans. 

For a moment, she finds a reply in a hand hold; not quite a hold, rather, her own hand gently placed on top of Crowley’s. Just to let her know that she’s there. And then she removes it again. 

She has been friends with Cowardice far longer than she has known Crowley. 

***

The Bentley is parked somewhere over the nearest hill. They walk in contemplative quiet, Aziraphale trying not to trip in her silly shoes, Crowley sighing in frustration at her. And whilst Aziraphale has achieved what she meant to today, something sits uncomfortably in her. 

The wind tries to push her back down the hill. 

When they reach the car, Crowley gives her a lift to the nearest train station, just outside Ditchling. It’s not far from where she’s staying, she assures Aziraphale, and she can’t cope with the idea of Aziraphale wobbling all the way to the station in her heels. Crowley makes it sound like an accusation, but Aziraphale recognises the kind gesture in it. She looks out of the window and watches the hills fall away, watches their moment in Devil’s Dyke fall away as if she’s abandoning it. 

The engine turns off and Aziraphale waits. Crowley says nothing. They both wait, although there’s no sign of there being anything to wait for. 

“Are you sure you want to head back to London?” Crowley asks. She doesn’t say it like a question. She turns to look at Aziraphale suddenly, lips parted and brows raised, looking lost. And Aziraphale realises then that it’s her that she’s abandoning, not Devil’s Dyke. “I’ll give you a lift. Anywhere you want to go.”

And she sees it. Oh, Lord, Aziraphale sees it in her mind’s eye; the two of them in a cottage in The South Downs, walking through the neighbouring fields in wellies and Barbour coats. Trips to Brighton with ice-creams and sun hats, even if the weather is dreary. Trips to places they’ve never been before; days inside, drinking cocoa and reading and simply being together. Existing together, without any fear of the universe collapsing. Forgetting that this juxtaposition of theirs is a crime against nature. Aziraphale sees it, this daydream hanging between them in the Bentley, parked outside Ditchling station. 

It would be cruel to even pretend that such a dream could exist. 

“You go too fast for me, Crowley.”

She doesn’t stay to see the heartbreak in Crowley’s eyes, because she feels it herself- she can’t bear heartbreak for two. She gathers her handbag and steps out of the car, walking neatly towards the station. She has fifteen minutes until her train. 

When she steps inside and turns around in the doorway, she sees the Bentley pull away. 

Everything feels very sharp and clear. An awful lot like she has fallen into that little stream back in the valley, like she’s lying in the water and her senses are stinging with the cold. She feels too much until she feels nothing. And so Aziraphale stares at the receding Bentley, clutching her handbag like a liferaft and turns back around, onto the platform. 

There are only two other people heading towards London from Ditchling. A middle-aged man with a case in his hand, and an older woman, who sits on the damp, dewy bench. She dabs at her nose with a handkerchief. Aziraphale finds herself drifting into the waiting room, where there is also a little cafe. 

She orders a cup of Earl Grey from the waitress, finds a seat to perch on. 

She holds the cup between her hands, but feels no less adrift. 

Crowley keeps her tethered, she considers in that moment. That look of abandonment on Crowley’s face; the feeling that Aziraphale is floating away; the sky is grey and the world is grey and she is lost in it. 

“I made the right decision,” she says quietly to herself.

“What’s that, sweetheart?”

Aziraphale takes a moment to realise that that waitress has spoken to her. “Oh- I’m sorry. I was merely talking to myself. A silly habit, I’m afraid,” she laughs emptily. 

“Not to worry, not to worry, talk to meself constantly- sign of a sound mind, my nan always said.”

“Quite so,” Aziraphale breathes. 

She doesn’t feel sound, she considers. She feels silent. A disorientating quiet, like those moments in the middle of the night, when one is awake when they shouldn’t be. When she has awoken and found herself alone, in a dark room. Echoing, claustrophobic. She feels it in her throat and she feels it prick her eyes with tears. 

“I made the right decision,” she whispers. 

The two of them walking down a muddy country road towards the nearest pub- talking loudly about anything and nothing, the usual silliness in all likelihood, arms swinging and cheeks rosy. The two of them side by side on a sofa, bowties undone and tights on the floor and wine bottles empty. The two of them at a dining table in the morning, reading the newspaper and buttering toast. The two of them at the Ritz, just as it has always been. 

She made the correct decision. It is the decision that Heaven would choose for her. But is it the right one?

Aziraphale stands up abruptly, tea sloshing over the edge of the mug and into the saucer. She is going to catch up with Crowley- she can find her in Ditchling town somewhere, she could ask around and-

No. No, even if she has that dream, it doesn’t mean that Crowley shares it. Crowley might have offered to take her anywhere, but how far does Crowley mean? How could Aziraphale know whether this is the right thing for both of them? This would jeopardise Crowley’s life too.

She sits back down slowly, just as the whistle of the London train screams down the platform. A shaky hand picks up the teacup and she takes a small sip. 

She steps onto the platform and waits for the train to stop. The steam billows; she can’t see anything. She hears the train conductor shouting out of the window. She sees a door materialise before her, opens it and steps into the compartment where three other people sit and read. She takes her own seat. 

She looks through the window and she feels like she is drowning. She feels as if the train’s steam is inside her. She feels the walls around her in a way she has never experienced a room before, as if it is designed to trap her. She hears the scream of the conductor’s whistle in her ears, rattling in her brain. 

She feels herself breath in. She feels the air rushing into her lungs, like water filling a glass. 

The train begins to pull away from the platform. 

She grabs her handbag, opens the door, and jumps onto the platform. 

Aziraphale hangs her head back and closes her eyes. The steam surrounds her in clouds and the mechanical chug of the train recedes; she feels it rumble beneath her feet. 

“Aziraphale!”

That voice- she opens her eyes and turns to meet it, but she sees no one for all the smoke and steam. 

“Crowley?”

And then again- desperation, relief- “Aziraphale.”

She turns on the spot and searches for her, but she can’t see anyone- she’s lost, alone in the mist, until she sees the silhouette approaching. The clouds part and there she is, Crowley, holding onto a handbag with both hands. An expression so soft it could have been painted. 

“Crowley.”

Right or wrong, correct or incorrect- Aziraphale sees none of that, now. She walks towards her. Crowley walks towards her. And they meet each other, standing so close that Aziraphale can see through the lenses of her sunglasses.

“You got off the train,” Crowley says. 

“You came back,” Aziraphale says. 

When they kiss, it isn’t like it is in the movies. It isn’t desperate hands on each other’s arms, desperate lips pressed together as if they don’t care about breathing. When they kiss, it’s hesitant, careful not to break everything that came before. It’s unsure, but it’s also a promise. 

Next time we kiss, Aziraphale thinks, I won’t be so afraid. 

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch 18:  Told You I’d Say Yes

Summary: Steve, Katie and Sam begin their search for Bucky and they uncover something that makes Steve start to question where their priorities as a team should lie. Decision made, the two of them head back to the Tower in New York to join up with the other adventures, and when Katie’s 30th birthday arrives, Steve asks a very differen question…

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Warnings: Bad language words, smut (NSFW), no under 18s. And a whole lotta teeth rotting fluff…

A/N: I think this is my favourite edit yet, @angrybirdcr​

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 17

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

 Steve had no real leads and as such he, Katie and Sam spent weeks combing through the information that Natasha had provided, using JARVIS to translate the Russian which none of them spoke of course. It was hard work, stressful and gave them nothing of real use either, other than give them a bit more of an understanding of who the Winter Soldier was, so to speak, and then Sam had a brainwave. If Bucky was starting to get his memories back and pieced together that he had been working for Hydra under duress, he might go looking for answers, possibly even revenge.

They decided to start in the nearest Hydra base they knew about from the leaks on the internet, and as such they were now ransacking an old abandoned bank in the financial district in the middle of the night.

What they found wasn’t great- a dozen bodies of dead Hydra agents. Most looked as if they had had their throats crushed apart from one who was sat in a chair, a bullet between his eyes.  From the look, and smell, they’d been there a while.

“That’s an execution.” Sam muttered, nodding at the man who had been shot and Katie looked at him as Steve simply turned and walked from the smaller room, back into the larger corridor. He made his way down, pulling open a thick door into the main vault and stopped dead as he saw some form of chair in the middle, surrounded by restraints and a device that looked like some kind of macabre halo. Steve felt his mouth go dry as he looked at it. I was some perverted form of the chamber he’d been in when they’d administered the serum…

“Looks like they were deleting data when they were interrupted…” Sam bent over to get a closer look at the computer to the side. Katie passed him the device she had brought and he plugged it in and started the data mining. As Steve made his way towards the two of them, Sam frowned and clicked on something that caught his attention and immediately the sounds of tortured screams filled the room. Katie jolted slightly as Sam took a step back, the three of them glancing at the screen which was sat on the desk. And all 3 wished they hadn’t. As there, on the screen Bucky was strapped down the halo-like contraption lowered onto his head.

“Turn it off!” Katie instructed to Sam, who moved to cut the footage immediately but Steve grabbed his arm.

“No…” he said firmly, his eyes fixated on the grim footage in front of him, his chest heaving with anger.

Finally the screams stopped and someone was saying words as they were in Russian but when they finished Bucky slumped down in the chair staring blankly ahead, as he spoke a single sentence, his face and voice completely void of expression and emotion. 

There was a moment of silence when Steve suddenly snapped grabbing the edge of the table and flipping it over with a loud crash, all of the equipment and computers meeting a rather abrupt end along with it. He felt sick, upset, angry…and he couldn’t help but feel this was his fault for leaving his friend behind.

“Steve?” Katie asked anxiously, whilst she watched his shoulders heave with anger.

“Let’s go.” He instructed sternly, already making his way to the exit.

“Steve?” She called again.

“Now.” He bit back.

Steve didn’t speak a word whilst they drove home. Once they were in the apartment he stormed straight through the hall and up the stairs to the bed room. Katie turned to Sam who was hovering in the hall.

“That went well.” he quipped.

Katie sighed, walking into the kitchen and handed Sam a water which he thankfully took, draining it in one go.

“The thing is, Sam…” she ran a hand over her face “It’s gonna get worse, the more we dig, the more we’re going to find.”

“Yeah well, on that note I’m going to go back to the bank, do a bit more digging of my own tonight.” Sam sighed “See if I can find something that would give us an indication as to when exactly Bucky hit the base, might help us piece together a timeline of sorts.”

“Alright, but be careful, yeah?”

“I’m always careful, sugar!” Sam grinned, and Katie rolled her eyes. “Listen, you gonna be ok?”

“Yeah, I’ll give him some time. He’ll come round, he’s just…” she paused searching for the right word before she concluded “sad.”

Sam nodded “Call you tomorrow then, I’m at the VA in the morning but my afternoon is free”

“Will do…oh, and Sam?”

He turned around and Katie threw him the keys to the Q5 as he still hadn’t replaced his car. “Take this, but bring it back in once piece.”

“Cheers dude!” He beamed, catching the keys expertly before he headed out of the door.

Once he was gone, Katie walked over to the sofa and dropped down onto it, pulling out her phone. She knew it was late, but Tony answered straight away.

“Did it work?” She asked instantly.

“Did it work…” Tony snorted “I made the damned device, of course it did. JARVIS took everything off their system…he’s already sifting through and cross referencing… any mention of Barnes in any form he’ll find it.”

“Thanks Tony.”

“There is something he has found thought, that’s kinda interesting, but also very worrying.”

“What?”

“He found an encoded list of locations, locations for HYDRA bases across the globe. Curiosity got the better of me, and I ran a couple of cross checks on the bases that were already captured or infiltrated, and it matches 80%…”

“Yeah, there’s bases out there that didn’t fall… that’s what Fury’s doing, you know this.”

“Well here’s the thing…” Tony sighed “That 80% rallies to around 10 bases. One-Eye-Willy knew about 6, which he is currently working on with SHIELD or whatever they’re called now. The other 4 were unknown, until now.”

“Shit.” Katie sighed. If they had gone unknown, unchallenged, then it was possible that more of Hydra remained than they thought.

“Pretty much what Fury said when I called him.” Tony replied “Anyway, I think it’s time we put the band back together Kiddo…”

She groaned. “Steve already turned Fury down to find Bucky first.”

“Well, for once I’m inclined to agree with the Goth Pirate.”  Tony continued “I think rounding the last of these bastards up is slightly more pressing than Spangles chasing his old school buddy.”

“Don’t call him that…” She sighed, rubbing her hands over her face. 

“Fury says he’ll make contact with Natasha and Clint, no idea how to reach Point Break though. I called his girlfriend, or paramour, whatever, who said he was off chasing something, no idea what, but when he comes back she’s gonna tell him we’re looking for him.”

“I’ll talk to Steve…but I can’t promise anything.”

“If anyone can talk him round it’s you.” He said, his voice adopting a more sympathetic tone “You know, there’s no reason why we can’t look for Barnes along the way. I mean it’s all Hydra, right?”

“Yeah, good point. Let me talk to him. I’ll call you tomorrow, or later today, whatever.”

“No sweat, take care. Love you kiddo.”

“You too Tones”

Katie dropped her phone onto the couch and sighed. Time to tackle Steve. She unzipped her combat boots, shucked them off and headed up the stairs. She gently opened the bedroom door and saw Steve, hair damp from the shower, led on the bed, looking up at the ceiling.

“Hey.” She crawled onto the bed next to him and propped herself up on her elbows so she could look at him.

“Hi.” He rolled his head to accept the kiss she offered as she reached a hand up to twine in the hair at the top of his head. “I’m sorry.” He leaned into her hand like a dog seeking attention. Katie opened her arms to let Steve snuggle into them, like a child, as she rolled onto her back, his head laying on her chest as her hand continued to tangle in his hair.

“Do you think we’re wasting our time? Looking for him?” Steve asked after a moment.

Katie hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “Bucky has been brainwashed and tortured by HYDRA for longer than I’ve been alive. It’s going to take more than saving you from the river to bring back the man you knew” she took a deep breath “I think we’re going to struggle chasing someone as resourceful as he is when he doesn’t want to be found. And we may have another problem…”

“Like what?” He asked, frowning at her.

“I just spoke to Tony. J has been going through the info that we pulled from the servers. Apparently there’s a list of 4 secret Hydra bases that no one knew about, not even Fury, that didn’t go down when we took out SHIELD.”

Steve let out a groan “So now I have to choose, between Bucky and taking down what remains of Hydra…”

Katie kissed his head sympathetically as the turmoil raged within his brain. They couldn’t let Hydra get a foothold again. But he didn’t want to let Bucky down either.

“You know, going after Hydra might help.” Katie spoke softly “I mean, we have nothing other than vague ideas and supposition about where Bucky is or what he has planned next. We might find something along the way. In the meantime, Sam can keep working our current angle and line of thought.”

“You’re right.” he said after a pause “I’ve tried twice to bring these bastards down. I can’t let them slip through my fingers a third time.”

*****

“Gotta say Cap, you’re looking better than last time I saw you.” Tony grnned as they entered the lab in the tower.

“I feel it!” Steve smiled, shaking Tony’s hand.

“What you looking at?” Katie asked, nodding to the screen, taking in the map.

“Got JARVIS running a bit of an analysis on the bases we found out about. Terrain surrounding them, best places to land the jet, potential areas of weakness that kinda thing.” He said, “Could take a while but, best to be prepared with some form of plan I suppose.”

Katie turned to Steve, grinning, about to launch into a rendition of “Star Spangled Man with a Plan” but Steve gave her a filthy look, knowing full well what was going through her mind. She grinned at him innocently and he turned his attention back to Tony.

“Any news on the others?”

“Banner is due back at some point tomorrow. He’s at some kind of Scientist band camp…” Tony waved his hand. “Barton is on his way, but you already know that. As for Nat…well she said she’ll be here when she can…which just leaves Point Break to show, whenever he’s back from riding the rainbow road that is.”

“He’ll turn up.” Katie shrugged “If all else fails I’ll do what he told me to when we needed him.”

“Which was what?” Steve asked, looking at Katie, frowning. As if she knew how to contact him and hadn’t said anything…

“Stand on top of a tall building a shout.” she said, grinning. Steve gave a roll of his eyes as Tony snorted. “Although I think he may have been joking.”

“Maybe we should get him some kind of Bat Signal” Tony mused “but with a hammer instead of a bat.”

“No.” Katie shook her head and Tony pouted at her.

“Why do you always piss on my parade?”

“Because your parade is usually dumb. Look we’re gonna go upstairs and unpack a few things.”

“Sure.” Tony nodded. “Oh, happy said he’ll get your apartment in DC cleared over the next week, and I thought we could go for something to eat tonight. Do the whole…” he waved his hand in a circle motion as he looked back at the screen, “fmily thing.

“Sounds great.” Katie smiled, looking at Steve who nodded, thankful of something ‘normal’ to look forward to, and the pair of them made to leave.

“By the way, I renovated the living floors so your Penthouse has had a bit of a facelift.” Tony said. Katie stopped and turned to face him.

“What do you mean facelift?” She frowned “I liked my floor…”

“Yeah but when I did the rooms for everyone else they got new furniture so I ordered you some too. If you don’t like it you can change it, no big deal. I didn’t change the décor to much…I know how much of a princess you are about people touching your stuff”

“Princess here technically owns forty percent of this tower so…” She flicked him the finger and he rolled his eyes.

“Yeah yeah…there’s a spare suite for you anyway Spangles opposite Thor’s, you know, just in case you get pissed off with her. No one would blame you if you did…”

“You’re a dick.” She rolled her eyes at her brother and turned back towards the elevator.

In all fairness Katie did actually quite like the changes Tony had made. Her penthouse spanned the entire floor below Tony’s whilst everyone else shared a floor a couple of levels down with another Avenger. Perks of ownership, after all. There was a new coffee and cream coloured L shaped sofa in the room, a walnut coffee table replaced the glass one that had been there, and a brand new HD OLED TV adorned the wall opposite, along with a media system. A state of the art sound system was installed and the kitchen was completely new and had been knocked through to the dining area giving them a huge open plan space similar to the layout of the apartment in DC. There was frankly the biggest bed Steve had ever seen in the bedroom and the furniture was sleek, with a slightly smaller TV adorning the wall opposite the bed. The en-suite now sported his and hers sinks along with a double shower, a corner spa tub and there was a smaller bathroom just off the hallway along with another bedroom, a study and a balcony spanned the entire length of the floor, which was accessible from the main bedroom and the kitchen-diner. It overlooked the New York skyline and contained a small patio area and a hot-tub along with some outside furniture.  But true to his word, Tony had kept the colour scheme. Different shades of blue throughout the bedroom, steel grey in the kitchen and warm coffee and walnut colours in the lounge.

Steve loved it.

As promised, late that evening, the two of them accompanied Pepper and Tony out for dinner. They had gone to Anatolia’s, an Italian restaurant on the outskirts of Brooklyn much to Steve’s delight. It had been a really nice evening, the 4 drinking and eating far too much but as Tony had pointed out, things were about to get a little bit crazy so who knew when the next time they would get chance to relax and socialise was.

“Other than your 30th that is.” he said, looking at Katie over his wine.

“So there is something planned…” she grinned.

“Maybe.” Steve shrugged. Oh, he had something planned alright. He’d spoken to Tony about it a week or so ago, the Inventor gleefully agreeing with his idea.

“Man, my little sis is turning 30 in 3 weeks…I feel so old.” Tony continued to grumble.

 “You are!” she teased.

“Yeah but not as old as your boyfriend…”

“Well done, you almost went a full evening without mentioning it.” Steve dead panned, folding his arms.

“You know he’s technically younger than me, Tones.” Katie said “

“What?” Steve looked at her, “How do you work that out.”

“You were born in July 1918 right, went into the ice in, what, March 1945?”

“Yeah…”

“Woke up in May 2012. So when you count how many years you spent actually awake and living, and not taking a cold nap, you’re really only 29 this time round.”

“So Captain America is your toy-boy?” Pepper giggled. Katie shrugged and took a sip of her wine as Tony and Steve looked at one another, both of them wearing expressions of bewilderment.

“Wait, does this mean we can throw a Happy 97 minus 67 party for Spangles next year?” Tony grinned and Steve let out a groan.

“See what you’ve done?” he looked at Katie with exasperation, and she just shrugged.

The night ended with a few drinks in a bar before a car picked them up and the couples both bid each other goodnight before going their separate ways

“That was proper pizza.” Steve said as they walked out of the elevator into their living area, the panel sliding in place leaving the door hidden.

Katie laughed as JARVIS gently flipped on the ambient lighting.  “Well you certainly enjoyed it…getting through 2”

“Yeah, think the last 3 slices were a mistake” he mumbled as she headed into the kitchen. “They’re sitting in me like a brick.”

“Awwww poor baby!” she mocked thickly. “Getting so old you can’t even have a few slices without indigestion.”

“Hey, I’m younger than you, remember?” He laughed as Katie pulled 2 beers out of the fridge handing him one as she glided past him to flop onto the couch.

“I’m gonna regret pointing that out, aint i?” She laughed as Steve nodded.

*****

Katie had a meeting with her Editors and New Business department the next morning and Steve had a job of his own, a different mission that he was fucking nervous as hell about. He asked JARVIS where Tony was, who located him in the large, open plan main common room area of the tower, the one Loki and the Hulk had decimated 2 years previously.

“Tony you got a minute?”

“S'up Cap?”

Steve took a deep breath “I err…” his palms suddenly felt sweaty. “You know I love Katie and…" He cleared his throat before he looked Tony square in the eye, surprised to find the man watching him, warmth across his features.  “She’s the most important thing in my life, and I…well, I wanted to ask for your permission, to ask her to marry me.”

“My permission?” Tony quipped.

“Well I’d normally ask her dad but…”

Tony smiled and glanced down at hands before he looked back at the blonde haired man stood besides him. “You gonna do better than a ‘we can get married if you want’ outside your apartment door?”

Steve let out a sigh and shook his head “she told you about that?”

“In the hospital” Tony smiled.

“Not my finest moment” Steve rubbed at his temple.

“Oh I dunno.” Tony said pushing off the front of the Bar area where he had been leaning. “Given the fact you were inches from death she was pretty upset at the fact she told you to come back with a Tiffany special…”

Steve smiled.

“You got one yet?” Tony asked. “A ring I mean.”

“No.” Steve shook his head.

“Well it just so happens I know one of the consultants at Tiffany.” Tony smiled, and Steve looked at him, his face creeping into a smile as he knew that this was Tony’s confirmation he was giving him his blessing. “Whenever you’re ready, I’ll make a call.“

The two men looked at one another, sharing a silent moment of respect before Tony reached out with his hand and Steve shook it, a shit-eating-grin spreading across his handsome features.

“Oh fuck this, come on Spangles, bring it in. I’m secure enough in my sexuality to hug another man.” Tony sniffed, and Steve stood up off the bar stool with a chuckle, the men exchanging a quick embrace, punctuated by a lot of back slapping.

“For what it’s worth…” Tony smiled as he stepped back, his eyes shining with emotion. “You make her happy, you treat her right, you put her first and I’ve never seen anyone metaphorically slap her back into place as well as you do….sorry, lot of dust in here…” he wiped at his suddenly watering eyes, water that may or may not have been tears before he took a breath and looked at Steve again “I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather grant permission to.”

Steve smiled, his own eyes shining with emotion.

“And I’m pretty sure you’d have gotten it off dad too.” Tony nodded at him and Steve looked at the floor for a second before he glanced back up at him, taking a deep breath.

“Thank you Tony.”

*****

“What is this?” Thor’s voice was loud. “I can’t see them…”

“No you turn it…hang on”  The 4 Avengers in the lab looked at one another, Tony grinning from ear to ear as Jane was trying to explain how to use the video call facility on her phone.

“He’s worse than you!” He grinned up at Steve who merely rolled his eyes as Bruce stifled a grin.

Eventually Thor’s face, or rather his left nostril filled their screen and all of them urged him to move the phone away. Finally he did so, and his handsome face beamed down at us all.

“Greetings!” he smiled “It is good to see you all again, Little Stark you look as radiant as ever.” “Thanks Thor!” Katie laughed as besides her Steve bristled a little bit. 

“Jane says you need my help.”

“Yeah, we got a job Point Break.” Tony said.

“Is this to do with SHIELD and Hydra?” the God’s deep voice rumbled.

“You know about that?” Katie asked.

“Of course, it was all over the news. I watch that now, with Jane” he said, a glint in his eyes, “But that reminds me, I have a bone to pick with both you and the Captain…”

Steve frowned and looked at Katie, the pair of them sharing a glance before they looked back at the screen.

 “I saw you both on the television fighting SHIELD alongside the Birdman…” Thor continued, ignoring Katie and Steve’s laughter as they both thought of Sam’s face if he could hear that nickname, “Why didn’t you call me? You know how much I love fighting.”

“They didn’t send for me either…” Tony said, putting his hand up.

“Call you, do you have a cell phone?” Katie looked at Thor.

“No, what for?”

She didn’t reply, instead she looked away trying not to laugh at the perplexed look on the God’s face

“We have a lot of loose ends to tie up.” Steve spoke, steering the conversation back to the purpose in hand. “Not all of Hydra went down when we took SHIELD out.”

Thor’s face split into a grin. “More fighting?”

“More fighting.” Tony said, as Banner let out a small sigh.

“Why is there always fighting?”

They explained the basics of what was going on to Thor, before he promised to join them as soon as he could and then Banner headed off to shower and to unpack following his trip.

“I’m going to head to the office for a few hours.” Katie said. Steve nodded.

“Tony and I have stuff to do.” he said simply, but met her gaze with a passive one of his own as she glanced at him, arching her eyebrow.

“Ohh…I get it…” she grinned, “You’re sorting my birthday surprise. Cute.” As she turned to go she walked straight into the desk behind her, jabbing the corner harshly into her thigh.

“You alright?” Steve asked, trying but failing to hide the chuckle in his voice at her clumsiness.

“Thanks for your genuine concern.” She grumbled, instantly rubbing where the sharp corner had dug into her. “Shit, that hurt…Jesus fucking Christ…”

"Ooooh, hey. You kiss Spangles with that mouth?” Tony raised an eyebrow at her

“Yes, Tony, I kiss him all over with that mouth.” She glared at him as she rubbed her thigh. “Every inch of –”

Tony clapped his hands over his ears. “Lalalalalalalalala! I can’t hear you!”

Once Katie was out of earshot, Tony turned to Steve “You get it?”

He nodded, holding up his mother’s ring that he had managed to slip of when Katie was sleeping.

“Alright, let’s go.”

They drove the short distance into Manhatten, and Tony parked his car up in a private space behind the department store they were visiting. Steve followed him into the store where they were greeted by a small, grey haired mousy looking man dressed in an immaculate 3 piece suit.

“Mr Stark, Captain Rogers.”

“Hi Robert.” Tony smiled at him, clapping Steve on the shoulder “Take good care of him, he’s shitting himself.”

Steve sighed and shook his head but the inventor had already wandered off to the other side of the store, examining something in one of the glass cases.

“It’s perfectly understandable to be nervous, it’s a big thing.” Robert smiled, gesturing for Steve to follow him. He did, as they walked across the store to a small room at the back. Steve walked in and dropped into a seat. “So, do you have anything specific in mind?” 

Steve took a deep breath, “Something elegant, but flashy enough to be special, I’ve no idea really, other than she prefers white gold to yellow.”

Robert smiled at him, “White gold or platinum. Ok. Any idea on the cut of diamond?”

“Princess.” Steve said, smiling. That he did know, from way before they were even dating.

“Oh my god!” Katie said, looking at the gossip magazine Natasha was reading, as Steve peered up at them from the seat behind his desk. “That’s fucking hideous.”

Natasha snorted “20 carat apparently.”

“Who the fuck needs a 20 carat ring?” Katie shook her head.

“I dunno, not something Tony would buy for Pepper?”

“Nah he isn’t that tacky.” she shook her head “And I’d kick his ass, it’s so…garish.”

“I don’t think the cut helps” Nat said, holding the magazine up “It’s a Brilliant, so looks a bit..”

“Shit?” Katie offered and the girls laughed “Seriously, if I ever have a man who’s ready to propose you better tell him it’s Princess or bust…”

He and Robert chatted for a few moments, Steve assuring him that the budget was healthy, whilst the man headed off into the store and came back with a few options set on a blue velvet tray of sorts. Steve’s eyes were instantly drawn to one in the middle. It was held a large diamond and was set into an elaborate clasp which melted into the band which was studded with smaller diamonds.

“Ahh yes.” Robert smiled as Steve picked it up “That’s one of my favourites. It’s a Tiffany Novo…”

“Sorry, did you say Nova?” Steve’s head jerked up, a smile on his face.

“Novo, Captain.”

Close enough Steve thought as he grinned.

“Princess cut with a Pave set Diamond band in platinum. That one’s a 2.05 carat, but we can do it smaller.”

“No, this one is perfect.” Steve smiled, looking at him.

“Well, that was easy…” Robert quipped and Steve nodded, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah…” he let out a chortle of a laugh, “you had me at Novo.”

Robert frowned, but didn’t ask for an explanation. “That one there is Sixty-Six thou…”

“Holy shit.” Steve exclaimed, before hastily apologising for his outburst. He knew he had said he had a decent budget but…

“However, Captain, seeing as it’s you, I can shave twenty percent off that, leave my commission.” he man smiled as Steve began to protest “And offer you a further ten percent for Tony being a regular customer.”

“I couldn’t…”

“You guys saved my daughter’s life in New York.” Robert looked at him, smiling softly “She was in the bank.”

Steve took a deep breath and shrugged, a faint flush on his cheeks. “Just doing my job.”

“So am I. So we’ll call it forty, and I’ll throw in an extra eighteen months care package. So she can bring it in to be cleaned, repaired should anything happen to it over the next three years.”

Steve hesitated, it was a lot of money. He knew he had enough, more than enough. His wages from SHIELD had been generous, plus his Army back pay that Katie and Fury had secured for him had been piling up and earning interest, but he still wasn’t used to being able to just flash it around. Plus now he wasn’t technically earning either…but the more he looked at it, the more he just knew it was right. 

And she was worth far more to him than anything money could buy.

“I’ll take it.” He nodded, decision made.

He handed Robert his Ma’s ring, which Katie had had resized to fit properly and Robert nodded, smiling as he slid it onto a measuring cone.

“You’re in luck Captain. We have one that size in stock so you can take it away today. Whilst we’re here, would you like me to give this one a polish?”

“Oh, err, yeah, great.”

He shook hands with the man and headed back into the store where Tony was now leaning over a cabinet, talking to a blonde haired assistant. He pointed at a necklace with an obscene price tag, and she nodded, picking it up and turning around.

“Something for Pep.” he said, gesturing to the gift as he nodded at Steve. “You know, just because.” he frowned “That was fast.”

“Found the perfect one.” Steve smiled “It’s called a Novo”

“Nova?” Tony looked at him, eyebrow raising as he smirked.

“No, Novo…although that’s what I heard too at first.” Steve laughed.

“Huh.” Tony said, as Robert approached them. He opened the box he was holding and reached in for the ring, setting it down on a velvet tray again to show to the men. It was even brighter in the store lights than in the room. Steve heard Tony whistle at the side of him.

“That’s a rock and a half Cap.”

“She’s worth it.” he shrugged, simply. “I just hope she likes it.”

“If she doesn’t we can exchange.” Robert said, as he finished his inspection and after making himself happy the ring was perfect he boxed it up and handed it to Steve in a Tiffany bag.

“Cap, you could propose with a ring pull and she’d say it was perfect.” Tony smiled.

“Now you tell me.” Steve said, handing over his credit card.

*******

“Shit, shit, shit…” Katie was panicking. Her ring was gone. Steve’s Ma’s ring. The one he had given to her at Christmas. The only real thing he had of his mom left. She’d ransacked the bedroom, living room, her office. “No,no…”

She made her way back into the kitchen, looking everywhere, before she headed into the bathroom. Nothing. She collapsed onto the closed toilet seat, her head in her hands as she began to cry when she heard the elevator door open.

Steve stopped as he walked into the living room, frowning at the utter chaos that greeted him. Cushions were all over the place, drawers in the large unit were flung open. Immediately he went on the defensive, knowing it was ridiculous as there was no way anyone could have gotten in here, but still…

“Katie?” he called. Katie’s head jerked up and she wiped her eyes

“Bathroom.” she said back, and he could tell from her tone something was wrong.

“Doll, what’s going on?” He strode into the bedroom and then stepped into the large en-suite. She’d been crying. “Baby?” he crouched in front of her.

“I…I’m so sorry…” Her voice cracked. “But your mom’s ring… I can’t…”

Steve felt a sudden pang of guilt, she was distraught, thinking she had lost it. He hadn’t thought of that.

“No, sweetheart, it’s ok, I’ve got it.”

“You do?” she frowned.

“Yeah.” he reached into his shirt pocket and pulled it out. “I was looking at it when you were asleep last night and thought it could do with a bit of a clean-up so I took it off and Tony took me to a place Pepper takes hers…”

Katie looked at the ring, before she felt her anger simmer over.

“You complete ass Steven Grant Rogers!” she yelled, hitting him in the chest “I’ve spent the last 3 hours out of my mind with worry…”

“I know, I should have told you but I wanted it to be a surprise.” Steve lied, hoping to god for once she wouldn’t see through it “I’m so sorry!”

She snatched it off him, returning it to its home and she glared at him, before looking down at it.

“Well, it does look nice and shiny” she said, admiring it and Steve let out a sigh of relief “Don’t touch my stuff.”

“Your stuff?” he looked at her as she wiped at her face.

“Yes, my stuff.” she repeated petulantly. “You gave it to me, remember. It’s mine.”

He was about to laugh and call her a brat, when there was a loud clap of thunder and a flashing of bright white light, punctuated by various rainbow colours, outside the bedroom window and they both turned their heads to look at it.

“Thor!” Katie said, jumping up and beaming.

“Am I forgiven?” Steve asked, rising to his feet. She turned and looked at him, rolling her eyes at the injured puppy dog eyes he was giving her.

“Pull another stunt like that again and I’m imposing a sex ban for a week.”

“Yes Ma’am.” he grinned, giving her a peck on the lips.

****

Thor’s arrival spurred the Avengers into getting down to some real planning, and when Clint arrived that day too, bringing with him the news that Natasha would be with them by the middle of June- she was on some kind of trip with Fury-those of them present began to take all the information they had, planning their first raid on one of the uncovered Hydra bases, this one being on the outskirts of Seattle.

“Your call Cap.”  Tony looked at Steve, his jaw was twitching as he turned over the pros and cons of hitting the base whilst they were still one down on the team. Eventually he made his decision and looked around the team.

 Suit up…” he said, straightening up “Wheels up in 20”

Behind him Banner groaned.

He needn’t have worried though, there was no need for a code green. In fact, it was a bit of a damp squib. There were minimum guards to take out and all in all it was relatively easy. There were also no computers, just a truck load of paper files which they meticulously boxed up and loaded onto the jet.

Over the next two weeks they hit the remaining unknown basis that they had discovered, and every one of them was the same. They were clearly never used as main strongholds, more like storage facilities if anything. Steve was frustrated, Katie knew that. But as she and Tony pointed out to him, they had a hell of a lot of information to comb through. They liaised with Fury, who had nothing new to add, other than that he would be in touch if his team needed help about the remaining bases in Europe.

As such they spent most of their time filtering through the information they had gotten from the bases, along with the boxes of files that Fury and Hill had pulled from SHIELD. Banner and Katie (when she wasn’t working) set up a simple filing system as they went along, cataloguing each bit of paper information so they knew where to find it in future, and could add to it as they went along.

There wasn’t much to go on, they didn’t find any new information, and nothing on Bucky, but there was one name that continued to crop up time and time again.

“Baron Von Strucker…” Katie said to the team which was congregated in the lab. “I’ve gone through the information available, including what was dumped on the internet when we released all the files…it isn’t pretty reading.”

Clint lounged with his feet up on the desk munching some popcorn. He offered it round and Tony took a hand full.

“Not likely to be where Hydra is involved.” he said, leaning against a desk, chucking the popcorn in his mouth.

Steve who had been flicking through a file clucked slightly with his tongue and shook his head “Says here he trained with Jasper Sitwell at the Preparatory Academy.”

Tony began choking and at first Katie thought it was reaction to the fact that Hydra had an academy but she soon realised, as he was pointing at Clint with a disgusted expression on his face that it was the popcorn. She grinned- Clint like his popcorn laced with cayenne pepper.

“What is wrong with butter and salt?” Tony gasped as Clint explained what was on the corn through his laughter. Thor reached over curiously and took a handful before declaring, much to Clint’s annoyance, that he enjoyed the spicy snack.

“He had his fingers in a lot of SHIELD pies” Katie continued “He was running the SHIELD STATION, which is the Scientific Training and Tactical Intelligence Operative Network, an R&D facility which was established to conduct investigations on the material retrieved from the ground during the battle of New York, you know, the shit Fury said he had destroyed?”

“Alright.” Steve nodded “Dig up what you can on it and then we’ll go from there. From the sounds of it he seems like the one we should be focussing on.”

Katie nodded.

“But not tonight.” Tony said, looking at Steve “I think we deserve a break, especially seeing as it’s someone’s 30th tomorrow.”

The room cheered and Katie rolled her eyes “Yeah yeah…don’t remind me.”

*****

Katie woke the next morning to soft kisses peppering the side of her neck and a deep burn growing at her centre as she was slowly pulled to consciousness. She let out a low moan and felt the lips at her throat spread into a sly smile

“You dreaming about me?” her Soldier whispered.

She bit her lip, arching her back and leaned into him as his hand splayed on her stomach, pulling her closer before she felt his fingers sliding down gently to the space between her legs. She didn’t say a word, she couldn’t. It was all she could do to simply groan as he gently pushed two fingers inside her, before he moved to massaging her spot. She pulled her legs together suddenly, thighs tightening as the muscles in her core clenched.

“You want more?” he asked, voice slow and deep.

She nodded eagerly, moving so that she was lay on her back and finally opened her eyes.

Steve gently moved, so his knee was positioned between her legs, sliding his T-shirt over her head before one hands moved up her body, tracing her ribs before he started to caress her breast, the other fingers continued to stroke inside, making her groan more and more. He placed a soft kiss on her jawline and smiled at her.

“Happy birthday, Gorgeous.”

His words undid her, and she let out a sound that was halfway between a gasp and a squeal, feeling for him under the sheets “Steve…” Every inch of her was on fire and he wanted him. “Please…” she begged, her voice catching as he moved over on top of her fully, shoving his boxers down and she let out a long shaky moan as he entered her.

“Good?” he asked, his breath a whisper and she nodded eagerly as he began to move. His thrusts were slow but deep and powerful, every roll of his hips sent his pelvis rocking up against her spot.

It didn’t take long at all, she was so close already and Steve watched her face, not wanting to miss the moment.

“Fuck…” Her head completely dropped backwards as her core spasmed again and then she came, hard, her orgasm rolling over her in such a way it had her clinging to Steve, crying out a strangled cry as he too reached his peak, her name tumbling from his lips.

The minutes passed as they lay curled in silence, completely blissed out and relaxed, hearing only each other’s gradually steadying breaths.

Steve’s hand gently stroked the arm that was draped over his abdomen before he gently moved her to one side, sitting up. He had things to do.

“Hey…” she began to protest before he smiled.

“I’m going to make you breakfast”

“You are?”

“Of course, it’s your birthday” He chuckled, from the edge of the bed where he was pulling on a pair of sweats.

"Pancakes,” she muttered hopefully.

He laughed. “Yup,” he said before lowering his lips onto hers. They shared a long, deep kiss that left them grinning like idiots as he pulled away, hopping off the bed and pulling on a t-shirt before leaving the room.

Katie stretched out and glanced over at the clock on the bedside table. It was half 9. A perfectly reasonable time to wake up on her birthday. And the best bit was, she had an entire day of being a spoilt birthday brat ahead of her! Steve was taking her to Coney Island in the afternoon, he had been dying to take her back to Brooklyn for ages and they’d picked today to go after the team had decided to take a break from the non-stop research and missions. Then later in the evening there was some form of meal booked, although where she had absolutely no idea. She’d been trying to catch everyone out about it for weeks but failed, miserably.

She was just about to get out of bed and into the shower when she heard her phone vibrating on the nightstand beside her bed. She reached over for it, and rolled her eyes. It was Tony.

“Happy birthday kiddo! How does it feel to be officially old?”

“You still got fourteen years on me, you dick!” she said, grinning before she yawned slightly “Why are you ringing me when you’re, what? A floor away?”

“Wasn’t sure if you’d be up or not.”

“Well there’s no worries on that account as for my birthday Steve got me a new alarm clock.”

“An alarm clock?” Tony said, his tone flat

“Yeah.” she said, biting her lip as she fought to keep myself from laughing “His penis.”

There was a pause “That’s gross.” Tony groaned and Katie laughed as he continued to complain “I mean it’s bad enough knowing that you two…you know, without being given some form of mental image like that…”

“Oh quit your whining!” she grinned “When you bringing me my present?”

“Ah well, you’ll have to come get it, it’s a bit big.”

“Big?” I said “It’s not a 16 foot teddy bear is it?”

It was his turn to laugh “No, although, speaking of big, stuffed animals, what did Cap actually get you?”

“You’re hilarious, and I’ve no idea. He’s making me breakfast at the moment.”

 “More sausage?” he said sardonically.

“Pancakes, actually” she replied “Which is why I need to go and have a shower before he eats them all himself…”

“Alright, come up when you’re ready…” he said. “Not going anywhere…”

By the time she made her way into the large open plan living area, Steve had already completed 2 stacks of pancakes (his miles bigger than hers), a plate of bacon and was just setting 2 glasses of orange juice down on the breakfast bar in front of the 2 plates. He looked up and smiled, she was dressed casually for a day at the fair, tight jeans, boots and long white top, over which she wore an open beige half-sleeved cardigan, and her hair was pulled up into a high, messy pony tail. She looked beautiful as ever.

“You look lovely.” He said, pressing a kiss to the side of her head as she sat down. “So, how does it feel to be old?” He could barely get the words out without laughing, and she simply shook her head at his poor attempt at a joke

“You’re such a jerk!” She rolled her eyes, as he grinned.

They ate breakfast, and then like the big child she was she demanded to know where her presents were so Steve took her hand and led her into the living room where they were laid out on the coffee table.

She opened her gifts one by one, a few items of clothing, a pair of earrings, a new set of wireless earphones that she had mused over buying and then decided not to, a gorgeous white and rose gold diamond bracelet and a leather bound edition of the Wizard of Oz book to replace the one she had lost in Malibu.

“I saw that and couldn’t resist.” He grinned, as she grinned back “oh and here…”

This was the big one. He held out the envelope and Katie looked at him, gently taking it before she slid a finger under the top to rip it open. Steve watched as she pulled out the piece of paper and for the second time that morning her mouth dropped open in surprise. It was a print out of an itinerary leaving the 30th November and returning on the 14th December, with the locations being cities in Europe- Munich, Paris, Venice, Bruges, Dublin and London.

“2 nights in each…3 in London” Steve said as she glanced up at him, unable to speak “I didn’t know what else to do and I know you’ve wanted to go back to Europe for ages, and how much you love Christmas and the markets and stuff…”

“Oh my god, Steve… ” She glanced down at the paper, finally finding her voice. “This is amazing! I don’t know what to say.” Steve felt the familiar pink tinge growing around his cheeks before she threw her arms around him, “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

He smiled and then kissed her head before he pulled away. “Shall we go and see what outrageously flashy present Tony has for you?”

“Do you know what is is?” she asked.

“I might do…” he smiled as she stood up. There was no might about it. He knew what it was. And he knew she was going to lose her shit about it.

The two of them made their way up to Tony’s main living floor, her hand in his.

“You now I’m excited to finally take you to Coney Island.” He smiled as the door to the elevator shut.

“Excited?”

"Yeah, it’s just I watched Bucky take so many dates around there and I spent most of my time wondering when I was gonna’ get to take my own gal.” He admitted, bashfully.

"God, you’re adorable,” she smiled at him as the doors opened.

“Happy birthday!” Both Tony and Pepper chimed and she grinned, stepping out and into Pepper’s arms before Tony swept her into a hug.

“Well I don’t see any huge stuffed toys so…” she looked around and Pepper snorted.

“I talked him out of it.”

Tony handed her a small box and Katie looked at him.

“This isn’t big.”

“Brat.” Tony rolled his eyes and she smirked. She pulled the ribbon of the box, took the lid off and stared at the content inside. And as it dawned on her what it was she looked up at him, then to Steve, who was watching her, an amused expression on her face, then back at the box her eyes wide.

“You didn’t?” she looked up at her brother, her mouth dropping open.

Tony shrugged “Well you buried your Range Rover and gave away the Audi so…”

She looked at him for a split second before she squealed, threw herself at her brother and then turned on her heels, running.

Steve and Tony both watched her go before they turned to one another and followed her.

“You ready?” Tony asked.

“As I’ll ever be.” Steve nodded.

“Huh.” Tony nodded.

“Ready for what?” Pepper asked.

“Oh, they’re going to Coney Island.” Tony said as they headed down in the elevator, waving away her question.

Way ahead of them Katie burst into the parking lot and skidded to a halt. There, in all its glory was her own brand new Chevrolet Camero Exorcist, the car she had dreamed of since she was a teenager. It was gorgeous. Deep blue with cream leather interior. She unlocked it and sat in the driver’s seat, taking in the smell. The head rests were stitched with the Stark Industries logo and the dash was awash with every single button and function you could imagine.

“Fire it up.” a voice said, and Tony looked at her through the open driver’s side door. She did as she was told and grinned at the beautiful growling noise it made and squealed, feeling the leather of the steering wheel.

She turned to Steve who was stood leaning slightly on the door watching her.

“Hop in soldier!” she grinned, and he smirked, walking to the passenger side.

“Have fun…” Tony said, before he turned to Steve and looked at him, giving him a significant nod and a clap on the shoulder. Steve smiled back and then sank into the leather seat. He had to admit the car was nice. Katie pulled out of the space and gave a groan that was far too arousing than it should have been.

“Oh my god…” she murmured, as she pulled onto the street. The car purred and handled like a dream. As she put her foot down it sped forward, throwing them both back in the seat.

“Easy baby!” Steve chuckled as she laughed, speeding over Brooklyn Bridge. “You’re gonna get a ticket…”

She shrugged, not actually caring at that point.

*****

Steve wound up, pitching the ball which sliced through the bottles on the stall diagonally, knocking them completely off their pedestal and sending the ball through the back of the canvas booth as it ripped a hole clean through it. Steve bit his lip, not realising how hard he had thrown it and turned to look at Katie. She was doubled over, laughing at the look on his face, and then laughed even harder at the expression on the attendants face as he glanced from Steve to the bottles on the floor, to the hole in the canvas and back again.

“Which one do you want?” Steve asked, placing his arm around her as the attendant indicated for her to pick a toy.

“I think I’ll have that one…” she said, pointing to a brown bear that was dressed in a Captain America outfit, complete with helmet and shield.

Steve shot her a look and she held out her hands, protesting her innocence. “What?”

“Good choice ma’am” the attendant said, handing over the bear “He’s an all American hero is our Captain.”

“That he is.” She grinned “He’s incredibly handsome too I believe.” 

Steve cut her off as he thanked the man before steering her away as he checked his watch. They had about an hour before they needed to get back. 

“Come on, let’s take a walk.”

He led them both down to the sea front, pausing to get a hot dog each, and they walked, eating in comfortable silence. The sun was still warm in the sky, the sea was by their side and Katie was lost in her own little world until she realised Steve wasn’t besides her. She turned to look for him, wondering where he was and then spotted him a few yards behind her, crouched on one knee on the well-worn wooden slats of the boardwalk.

“I told you I was gonna ask you properly one day.” He cleared his throat, looking up at her with those blue eyes she loved so much as he held out his hand, opening the small box that was inside. The sun bounced off the surface of the ring and she couldn’t see it fully but she clamped her hands over her mouth. “I know we were a little too late to be each other’s firsts, well in some ways anyway…” he said, and Katie let out a choked giggle. “But I want all my lasts to be with you. Will you marry me, sweetheart?”

“And I told you I’d say yes one day!” She said, her voice cracking with emotion as she removed her hands shakily from her mouth and nodded. “Yes. Yes of course I’ll marry you.”

A few of the by-standers who had been watching started cheering as Steve jumped up, everything around him bar his girl faded to nothing as she threw herself into his arms. He picked her up, laughing like an idiot, his strong arms round her as he twirled her round, the pair of them sharing fast, rapid dizzying pecks on the lips as he held her off the floor. Eventually he set her on her feet, an utterly stupid grin plastered on his face as he looked at her, a grin that wasn’t going to fade any time soon.

“Do I errr have to put it on myself?” She spluttered a laugh, raising an eyebrow.

“What, oh, yeah, right…” he said, stepping back and removing the ring from its home, fumbling slightly before he managed to get it out, holding it in his right hand, but before he could do anything else she grabbed his left hand which contained the box before he could slip it back into his pocket.

“You bought me a Tiffany?” She almost shrieked as she looked at the distinctive blue-green box in her hand.

“Yeah, and if you give me a second you can see it.” Steve chuckled at her. Biting her lip she held out her left hand and he slid the ring onto her finger and she let out a loud gasp.

“Stevie, it’s beautiful.” She whispered, looking at it before she took his face in both her hands. “I love it.”

“I love you.” he murmured into their kiss. He grinned and dropped and arm round her shoulder as they made their way back down the boardwalk, back to the car, Katie’s eyes almost permanently transfixed on her ring.

“You definitely like it?” Steve asked, suddenly feeling nervous as he nodded to her hand

“It’s perfect, but how did you know?” she looked up at him as they reached the other side of the road

“Do the words, ‘big, fuck off Tiffany diamond’ ring any bells?” he looked at her, referencing their conversation outside his flat a few months ago.

“Not about the tiffany.” she shook her head “But the cut. It’s a princess one, the one I’ve always wanted.

“I have a good memory” he smiled, “And I picked that particular one because its a design called a Novo. I thought he said Nova at first.”

Katie laughed as she snaked her arms round his neck. “For the record, this was much a much better proposal than we can get married if you want….”

“Are you ever gonna let me forget that?” he sighed as he leaned down.

“I think you’ve redeemed yourself…” she said as her lips met his.

****

“Tony suggested we have a drink before we meet everyone.” Steve stepped into the elevator and Katie looked at him before she smoothed down her white dress.

“So where are we meeting everyone?”

“It’s a surprise, stop being so impatient.”

“Errr. You can’t tell me off, it’s my birthday.”

“Well stop asking so many questions and just enjoy your night!”

She didn’t get chance to reply as then the elevator doors opened onto the main party floor and there was a loud eruption of noise, making Katie jump.

“SURPRISE!”

Her mouth dropped open as she looked around the room. It was decorated in banners, balloons, and now paper streamers from the party poppers that had just been exploded by their friends. Clint, Thor, Bruce, Rhodey, Sam, Maria Hill, Tony, Pepper, Lawson, Evans, a whole host of people that worked in the offices and a familiar copper haired assassin stepped forward to greet her.

“Miss me?” Nat quipped.

 “I can’t…” Katie began to speak, as she hugged her friend back “Oh my God…”

“JARVIS can you record this?” she heard Tony speak. “For this is a monumental occasion. She’s actually speechless…”

Katie turned to look at Steve who had been watching her reaction with a smile on his face. He loved seeing her happy, and he was pretty sure he’d managed to achieve that several times over during the day.

“Did you organise this?” she asked

“Why do you sound so surprised?” he chuckled, stepping forward to kiss her cheek “I had a little help but yeah, it was my idea. Happy Birthday baby.”

Before she could reply Natasha suddenly spoke very loudly. 

“What is that?”

“What?” Katie asked, although she knew full well what Natasha was talking about.

“Errrr that?” She grabbed at Katie’s left hand.

The room fell silent.

“What does it look like?” Katie grinned at her

“Holy fucking shit.” Steve heard Clint chuckle as he slid his arm round his fiancées waist and the two of them exchanged a smile.

“We’re getting married” Steve grinned, finally tearing his eyes from Katie to look round the room. There was a pause and he locked eyes with Tony who winked at him before there was a flurry of noise and activity as everyone surged forward to congratulate them.

Tony reached them first and the two men shared a manly hug, which included lots of back slapping before he dropped a kiss to his sister’s cheek as Katie felt a hand grab hers. Natasha scrutinised her newest piece of jewellery before she looked up at Steve.

“You picked that all by yourself?” she looked up at Steve.

“I’m not completely useless” he rolled his eyes.

“I’m impressed Rogers,”

Sam clapped Steve on his back and as the two men began to banter, Tony pulled his sister into his side.

“Congratulations Kiddo.” He said, looking down at her hand “Looks even better on.”

“You’ve seen it?” She frowned.

“I may or may not have taken him to Tiffany’s…” Tony shrugged. “But I promise he picked it all by himself”

“So you knew he was gonna ask me?”

“He asked my permission.” Tony sniffed. “Well I might not be Dad but…”

Katie noticed his eyes were shining and she smiled at him as he continued.

“I want you to know,” Tony’s voice cracked slightly “I couldn’t be prouder of you, or love you more if you were my own.”

 “Stop it, you’re making me cry!” Katie exclaimed, the tears in her own eyes gently spilling out as he pulled her into huge hug and she pressed her face into his chest. Eventually she stepped back, the pair of them wiping their eyes and Tony took the opportunity of a distraction, turning to a waiter.

Steve, who had been watching the two siblings saw the emotional exchanged and he stepped forward, as Tony was yelling about champagne for a toast.

“You alright?” Steve asked, gently wiping a tear off her cheek before he slipped his arms around her waist.

“Never been happier.” she beamed, honestly, her hands winding round his neck “ I know I said last year was the best birthday ever but this has smacked it straight out of the park.”

“Glad to hear it.” he smiled, leaning down to kiss her “I love you.”

“God job, seeing as I’m gonna be your wife.” she teased, her hand tangling in the back of his hair.

“Yeah…” he said, the shit eating grin spreading across his face again as he contemplated the words. His wife. “Yeah, you are”

Chapter 19

**Original Posting**

[eryiss]

Ship: Freed x Laxus [Fraxus]

Rating: Teen

Alternate Links: Fanfiction, Archive of our Own

Request: Something based off the official Rockband Raijinshuu art.

Summary: Being a rockstar, Laxus had to endure far too many chat shows. Usually he would grin and bear it, let the pointlessness of it roll off his back, but not this time. He was alone, forced to keep his budding relationship with Freed secret, and done with it. Fucking done with it all! But he had a way to fix it, and all it would take was a little courage.

Notes: This was a request by @fuckyeahfraxus. Just a warning, it has a bit of homophobia near the end, but nothing too vicious. I hope you enjoy it.

The Life Of A Song

Fuck chat shows. Fuck their hosts. Fuck their producers. Fuck their directors. Fuck their too-hot lighting, their stupid uncomfortable sofas, their tiny changing room's, their cramped green rooms with too many camera, their always cheering audiences and their utter lack of anything interesting or unique. Fuck the whole damn thing.

But Laxus' opinions on the matter weren't important. What did matter was that he smiled, laughed, told anecdotes and sat in a way that showed off his thighs and crotch just enough so that his Twitter stans - what a shitty word - made him trend once it was over.

Still, fuck chat shows.

This particular show, Late With Jase, was one of the worst. The host was young, overly enthusiastic, and his name was Jason rather than Jase which pissed Laxus off more than it should. He'd somehow dragged an audience of Netflix only watchers back to mainstream, with a mix of meme crap that Laxus cringed at, and celebrity gossip that would make a tabloid envious. But the ratings were skyrocketing, celebrities who went there usually got a boost in sales of their latest projects, and Laxus' manager had insisted he take his turn.

It would have been fine, were he not alone. If Ever, Bix and Freed were with him, they could take the responsibility and he could fade into the background. They had been a band for years, and that was how they always dealt with interviews. But they weren't there, because according to their management, Laxus was the moneymaker and all they needed.

"So Laxus," Jason turned in his chair to look at him. "Let's talk about Thunderstruck. What a success that's been? You must be thrilled.”

"It's doing well, yeah," Laxus nodded. He wanted to cringe at his words.

"It's doing more than well. You can hardly escape it," Jason laughed, and the crowd laughed with him. Laxus chuckled, even though he didn't find it funny. "But this is the first song that you've written, isn't it? And it's one of the most popular you've had. Must feel good."

"Well, it wasn't just me," Laxus swallowed slightly. "Everything we make is collaborative. Freed worked with the lyrics a lot, and Ever composed it."

"They're your bass player and electric guitar player, right?"

"I wouldn't call them mine," Laxus mumbled slightly.

There was a beat of awkward silence, and Laxus relished it just a little. Jason recovered quickly, which was annoying, and flashed a happy smile. Laxus would have preferred the man to stew in the uncomfortable silence, it would be a fitting response to him being dismissive of the band's contributions, but perhaps it was a childish way to think of things.

"Well we'll be hearing the song live at the end of the show," Jason continued, and Laxus' eyebrow twitched. The rest of the band were in the damn building and yet were being treated like shit. "But let's talk a bit about how you came to write it. Heavy rock and love songs have a troubled history, and you managed to make a hit out of it."

"Just lucky I guess," He shrugged. "Got good people around me too."

"Don't be so modest," Jason dismissed. Laxus wasn't being modest; luck was the dominant factor in successful music and without the band, Laxus would be fucked. "So, take us back. Where did the idea start."

"Well, hard to pinpoint I guess," Laxus murmured. "But, I suppose it was at the end of our last tour."

——

Performing live was indescribable. It was an assault on all his senses, in the very best way.

Everything was exhilarating. The feeling of vibrations on the stage, the cheers, roars and singing from the crowd, the sweat running down his back, the roar of his voice cutting through his throat as he sang. It all flowed through him, removing any sense of doubt or self consciousness he might have. On stage, before a stadium of fans, he was Laxus Fucking Dreyar. King, God and Dragon. Nothing was better.

They were on their last song of the set, a roaring anthem that the crowd could sing along to. It was thrilling to hear a song he'd worked on sung by thousands. Freed's words were being screamed at them, with the passion and love of their fan base. It was indescribable.

"We are The Thunder God's Tribe," Laxus yelled into the microphone as the instrumental began. The crowd roared in response.

Freed, Ever and Bix held the crowd's attention, and Laxus looked over the gathered mass of thousands. They were all there for them, because they loved them and wanted to experience them in person. A loud roar of appreciation cut through the stadium as Bickslow finished a drum solo that always brought the house down. How he managed to do that night after night while never screwing it up was beyond Laxus, but it was incredible.

Laxus sang the final verse, putting his whole heart into the performance. It was the last show of the tour, the last time they'd sing in front of a crowd like this for two years. He loved songwriting, but this was the best part of his work. The crowd, the music, the experience.

God he would miss this. This high. This buzz.

The lights died around them as the song ended, plunging them into darkness as the crowd roared their appreciation. The four of them could still see their fans as they cheered and yelled, and they took a few moments to appreciate it. He would miss this.

As they were taken from the stage, the adrenaline didn't waver. Laxus could run a marathon, deadlift any weight, swim any ocean in those moments. It was pure euphoria.

Evergreen trailed off to her dressing room first, scraping her nails down her bodyguard's chest before dragging him in with her. They were no longer pretending they were simply platonic anymore; Bickslow walking in on them must have removed any hope they could keep their relationship a secret. Good for them; Ever worked hard and deserved a big man to fill her bed.

Bix's groupies appeared out of nowhere, two men and a woman. They clung to the drummers bare chest instantly, and he cackled as he was dragged away for a night of depravity and booze. Laxus grinned; the party boy really had hit his stride this year.

Glancing at Freed, he saw the man looking equally amused.

A shared moment of eye contact sent a pulse of heat through Laxus. They stared at one another for a moment, and Laxus found his eyes crawling over Freed's shirtless torso without shame before he could stop it. Hard muscle and flexing abs were fully shown, and the heat in Laxus' face settled down lower. The rush of the performance was still running through him and he knew he wasn't in his right mind, but dammit Freed looked fucking hot in that moment. Tousled, sweating, shirtless; who could fucking resist that?

Laxus had always known Freed was hot. They spent hours upon hours together, it couldn't be missed. But he'd never thought too hard about it. You didn't fuck your badnmates. You didn't fuck your male bandmate.

And if he weren't coursing with adrenaline and dunk off of the cheers, he might have stopped.

With a stride, he surged forward and wrapped a hand around the back of Freed's neck. He pulled the man against him, pressing their lips together in a passionate, needy, energetic kiss. Freed dragged him back, pushing himself against the wall and taking Laxus with him. Hands were roaming over his chest, and Laxus groaned as they slid lower.

"Wait," Laxus whispered, pulling apart. A string of spit hung between them, and Laxus felt a twisted form of delight at it.

"What?" Freed asked, and his husky voice ran down Laxus' spine.

"We better take it inside," Laxus murmured, and Freed grinned.

They snuck into the nearest changing room, locking the door behind them. It was only in the next morning, when Laxus' mind was focused on something other than mindless, unadulterated pleasure, that he began writing a song. That he felt the need to write in a way that he'd never felt before.

Because kissing Freed was music. A high unmatched by anything else, and one that Laxus would find himself addicted to.

——

"And how did it come about?" Jason probed. "You've never written before. Did you find your muse?"

He had. But Jason didn't get to know it. Not that their manager would let it happen.

"Well, you know how bands work. You tour, make an album, then tour with the album," Laxus shrugged, reaching for his glass of water. "Your mind goes into production mode, I guess. You see things a little different, put a little creative spin on the things happening around you. Something struck me and I started writing," He laughed, awkward. "Not that interesting, really."

Not the fake story he'd been told to say, anyway.

The audience didn't seem to care about how crap the anecdote actually was, and applauded his words for some reason. Jason forced out a laugh, as if his statement had been a self-deprecating joke rather than a simple fact. What he'd been told to say wasn't interesting.

"Well, maybe you weren't struck by some divine intervention, but whatever happened it certainly worked out well," Jason continued, and the small screen beside him showed the album cover. Laxus hated the cover, it was just him. Not the four of them. It should be the four of them, or none of them at all. "It shot to the top of the charts and seems like it'll be there for a long time. That must feel good."

"It's incredible," Laxus agreed, and it was.

"So talk us through the writing process," Jason promoted, grinning. "I can't imagine you hunched over a desk night after night?"

"Well, the first draft only took a couple hours, really," Laxus confessed, blushing a little. The lights would cover it, but it was still embarrassing. "But me and Freed spent a couple nights together, and it became what you've been hearing."

——

"You always this tried?" Laxus chuckled, placing a takeout cup of coffee beside Freed.

The bassist blinked slowly up at Laxus, removing his face from its resting place against his arm. He glanced towards the coffee he'd been given with a thankful smile. Laxus smiled a little as Freed sat up straight, running a hand through his loose hair and letting it flow over his shoulders. He had bags under his eyes and a yawn split open his lips.

Laxus found himself slightly transfixed by the sight of Freed picking up the coffee, bringing it to his lips and drinking it in large gulps. His throat bobbed, pale skin stretching and chords tightening.

"Better to be tired that not focused," Freed smirked a little as he placed his coffee down.

"I think me looking at you is exactly the kinds focus we need," He grinned, and Freed chuckled.

The two of them were writing alone. After a fair amount of hesitation, Laxus had shown Freed the draft lyrics he'd written, and Freed had instantly presented ideas on how to fine tune it. He hadn't been patronising - nor had he teased Laxus about the fact he'd written a damn love song about him - and instead decided to encourage and help him make it a hit. They'd spent three subsequent nights in their studio, completely alone, and Laxus was loving it.

He'd never written a song before. Words weren't his forte, at least not the writing of them, and he much preferred to show passion through performance. But hours of Freed and him in the studio, bouncing ideas off each other, was thrilling.

Laxus suspected any time alone with Freed would be thrilling now.

Walking behind Freed to get to his own seat, Laxus leant down and pressed a soft kiss atop his head. Freed made a small sound and leant back against his chair to get closer to Laxus. He chuckled, ruffling Freed's hair slightly as he sat beside him.

"You made any progress?" Laxus asked, stretching slightly. He didn't miss Freed's eyes roaming over his chest. "What were you saying about being distracted."

"Until you wear looser fitting clothes, you don't get to talk about me being distracted," Freed smirked.

"Maybe I'd agree to that if I didn't know how uncomfortable those jeans you're wearing are," Laxus smirked. "Flatters the ass but crushes the balls, right? Regretting it yet?"

Freed didn't answer, but blushed a little and Laxus cackled.

They quickly fell into step, working on the song again. They were focusing on the second verse, which Laxus had dubbed the catalyst chapter. It had initially been a torrent of ways to describe how explosive his kiss with Freed had been - though names were vague enough for nobody to know that. With Freed's help, it had turned into a well written lyrical explanation to the first flushes of a romance. The burning passion, the fire between the two people, the erotic rush that could ignite from a simple glance. Watching Freed write, Laxus had to hope he was writing about his own feelings for Laxus.

He also had to stop himself from jumping the man, because Freed knew how to write a hot song. A really hot song…

Taking his espresso and gulping it down, Laxus looked away from his lover. Perhaps if Freed were anyone else - if he weren't a guy, or if he weren't in the band - Laxus might have given in and kissed him. He wanted to, but couldn't,

Once they'd been signed, te band had been given a long speech about how you couldn't screw your bandmate by their manager, how it could ruin things and screw up the dynamic. When Laxus had discovered he was bi, and wanted to come out as such, multiple crisis meetings were held. Not only had Laxus not been allowed to speak about his sexuality, with the risk of his contract being terminated immediate held over him, but he'd also been forced to stage pictures with a woman so he looked to be dating.

There had been backlash even then. His fans were vicious to the poor model, many seemed angry at him for supposedly betraying them by dating someone, it was fucking insane, and Laxus hadn't known hot to take it, but it had scared him off relationships for years.

So, he couldn't date. Definitely couldn't date bandmates. Certainly couldn't date men.

And knowing that, he'd still come back to Freed. Slept with him after their tour, then in the hotel later that night, they'd even fumbled about in the tour bus to the airport when everyone else was sleeping. They'd been in dates - or as close to dates two famous men could get - and a week prior had sat down and talked. They didn't care about the rules, because their budding romance was too damn good.

Never let it be said Laxus kept things comfortable for himself.

"Stop that," Freed scolded.

"Stop what?" Laxus asked, looking from the song and towards Freed.

"Torturing yourself," Freed explained, taking Laxus' hand and stroking it. "It'll do you know good. Certainly not when we're trying trying to write a ballad about the two of us."

"Sorry," Laxus hunched.

"Don't be, I think about it too," Freed admitted, leaning towards Laxus and against him. "But drowning in what ifs and self doubt is hardly going to make things better. We might as well enjoy what we have while it's still between the two of us, and deal with the fallout should it present itself.”

"You're right," Laxus nodded, blinking himself back into focus. "Not sure I can write tonight, though. Not in the mood."

"You don't want to write sonnets about how much you want me? Should I be offended?" Freed smirked, and Laxus laughed. "Or perhaps should I see it as a challenge to refocus your attention."

A hand ran down Laxus' inner thigh, and his breath hitched slightly. "Really?"

"Well, the song needs to be finished eventually," Freed hummed a little. "The sooner the better, I'd say. So getting your mind back on me seems the only thing that makes sense,"

"Really," Laxus tried to make his voice sound seductive, but Freed's wandering hand made him crack slightly. "H-how d'you think you'd do that."

"Well, let's say that in five minutes you find yourself in the instrument store down the hall," Freed mused aloud. "And let's say you find me already there, and I happen to be kneeling there waiting for you. Well, we can hardly be blamed if we find ourselves distracted."

Laxus swallowed. "Here? You sure?”

"There's no one around," Freed shrugged far too nonchalantly, and then grinned a devilishly handsome grin. "And I must admit, making you come undone in here has been a fantasy of mine," His hand squeezed Laxus thigh, before he stood up, and all flirtation was gone. "I should find a guitar, we can hardly write without practice. Perhaps I'll see you in there."

And then he was gone, walking away with his ass hugged perfectly in his jeans. All doubts about his future with Freed disappeared, replaced by the uncomfortable tightness in his boxers.

He found himself grinning, and a few minutes later he found himself in the instrument room, panting and moaning.

——

"It was pretty normal," Laxus continued, not looking to Jason. "We wrote, we practiced, we rewrote."

"Keeping your secrets close to your chest, I see," Jason laughed. "Now, speaking of secrets, the rumours have been flying on Twitter about who this is written about."

"I hadn't heard about that," Laxus tried to dismiss the statement.

"I'm sure you haven't," Jason nodded almost patronisingly, clearly not believing him. It was fair, Laxus supposed. #WhoIsThunderstruck did trend for a week. "But you have to admit, a virgin songwriter making something so powerful on their first try, and in a song so distant from anything else you've ever made, does seem to suggest maybe you've found someone to inspire you."

"I'm around a lot of talented people," Laxus shrugged. "They know how to make a hit."

He was squirming now, and not because of Jason. Their manager was seating in the front row of the live audience, and a quick glance his way showed Laxus a glare. This was a topic he had to avoid, because his fans needed to think the song was about them. It was patronising, Laxus thought, but they'd found success with their manager for a reason.

"So," Jason continued. "Have you found yourself a special lady?"

And then something ridiculous happened. Laxus found himself furious.

Such a simple statement, so innocuous and normal for Laxus' life, had opened the floodgates for Laxus. Because why had he assumed it would be a woman? Why had he assumed he could ask a question like that? Why was Laxus in a position where he couldn't answer something so simple when he really fucking wanted to?

Every ridiculous injustice seemed to swarm over him at once. How was it fair he had to parade himself on shows like this, on his own despite how his band deserved as much love and respect as he did? How was it fair that he'd known he wanted to be with a man for five years, and he'd never allowed himself to indulge before Freed? How was it fair that he'd been forced to endure meeting after meeting about how 'stupid' he was being for hooking up with Freed? How was it fair that he couldn't go out for a fucking pizza with his boyfriend without starting a ridiculous internet scandal? It was all so bullshit.

"Nah," Laxus answered, leaning back in his chair. The anger gave way to confidence; every interview he'd been on edge, but not any more. "Not a girl."

"So nobody's tamed the dragon slayer then?"

"Not a girl," Laxus repeated. "A guy. I'm bi, and for the last couple months I've been dating Freed," There was silence, and Laxus grinned and turned to Jason. "Bet you wished you'd gotten him on stage with me now, huh?"

"You're…" Jason seemed at a loss for words.

"Screwing the bassist, yeah," Laxus laughed, exhilaration flooding through him. "Inevitable really. I've known I liked guys for five years, and there's a load of fan pages who talk about how hot Freed is, so it was bound to happen," He grinned, running a hand through his hair.

This felt so good. Fuck, he didn't know how much he needed to do this.

"So," Jason tried to recover. "Well, erm, we have r to go to break now. Maybe we'll talk about that when we get back, I really don't know."

The moment the cameras cut, people began approaching Laxus. His manager, his PR team, and most importantly, his band. Ever and Bix attempted to run interference on their management team, but the angry man and his cronies pushed through them with fury on their faces. Still, Freed met him first, and wordlessly grabbed Laxus by the collar and brought their lips together. It was more passionate and desperate than any of their kisses had been.

"I'm so proud of you," Freed whispered. "And we are definitely talking about how you know those fan sites exist."

"Who d'you think made 'em," Laxus grinned, and Freed laughed.

Their small, shared moment ended when a throaty cough cut through them. Their manager was looming over them, and Laxus met them with a cruel grin, knowing it was too late: that was the problem with live TV.

"Problem?" He asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"What the hell were you thinking?" The manager snarled. "You just fucked all of us, do you understand that? How fucking selfish are you. You've ruined this album, you know that? You think your bandmates will forgive you?"

"Nothing to forgive," Bix said immediately.

"You're a dick for not letting him do it before," Evergreen agreed.

Their manager seemed to flounder for a moment, before narrowing his glare at Laxus again. "Do you think your fans will want to see that?" He growled again, voice getting louder now. "You think they'll still want you now they know that. Now they have to think about you being with… with him!" He motioned to Freed disparagingly. "They'll leave you. You've fucked yourselves, you know that."

Silence filled the soundstage, and their manager seethed. Laxus grinned, then looked past him towards the audience, half of whom had their phones pointed towards them.

"Since you're always talking about PR," Laxus smirked. "How d'you think you'll look once this hits Twitter?"

Their manager halted, then slowly turned. He turned sheet white, and it was brilliant.

"Oh, and in case you're worrying about your little threat to drop us if I came out, don't," Laxus smirked, though looked up to his band, who all nodded. "Yer fired, so fuck off."

[love-musicheart]

NoirBug - Chapter Four - Episode 4

(AO3)

Summary:

Things are NOT perfect. Ladybug has disappeared. The future is disappearing. And... wait, did you just say Cat Noir's identity is-

“Paris is under attack by an akuma! I repeat, Paris is under attack by an akuma!”

Wang Fu cast a glance at his small TV, then, setting down the tablet he was working on, shuffled over to turn up the volume.

“It appears to be some type of plant akuma...”

That much certainly was obvious. Roots curled up from cracks in the pavement wherever the akuma stepped. The view appeared to be taken from a helicopter - safely out of range of the attack.

Fu made his way back over to his desk, picking up his tablet again. Translating the grimoire took time - but as he liked to keep an eye on the superheroes of Paris, he’d gotten pretty good at multitasking.

“How annoying,” Fu mentioned in a conversational tone to his kwami, Wayzz, who was floating closer to the TV. “I thought I would at least have several hours to work without interruption.”

“Hawkmoth doesn’t usually attack this early in the morning,” Wayzz agreed. “Do you think he might have something bigger planned for today?”

Fu chuckled. “I think that, whoever Hawkmoth is, he just likes to sleep in. But who could stay in bed on a day like this?”

Wayzz chuckled as well, zipping back over to the desk to munch on their shared breakfast - a fruit salad.

Fu got back to work, carefully translating the old text into French. He glanced between the text on the tablet, his paper, and the TV. This akuma was no plain gardener; it seemed to have control over nature itself, employing all four elements. Its very presence made plants grow and water start to rise in the Seine.

“I wonder…” Fu mused out loud, trailing off.

“Master?” Wayzz asked, glancing up, cherry stained across his lips.

Wang Fu shrugged. “Just a passing thought.” He paused, then admitted, “But… I cannot help but be curious as to whether Ladybug will come for a miraculous to assist her and Cat Noir in this fight.” He couldn’t help himself, and smiled. “It would quite interesting to see the dragon miraculous pitted against this akuma; the holder of that one in particular seems to be quite dependable.”

“Master,” Wayzz warned, “your rules…”

“Well, I’m the one who made them, am I not?” Fu shrugged, a little defensively. “I can speculate who I believe the ladybug would choose, seeing as I am the one providing her the miraculouses for the fights.”

Wayzz just shook his head, smiling - though the wisdom hidden behind it was ruined a little by the cherry still smeared across his face.

“Cat Noir is here, on the scene at the Seine!”

Master Fu glanced at the TV. “I think both of us can agree, based on what we’ve seen from the dragon holder in action, that they have a steady dependability that would be quite the asset for this fight.”

“Yes,” Wayzz conceded. “We can agree on that point, at least.”

As Cat Noir took on the akuma with cocky fearlessness and puns, Fu went back to his translations. Wayzz casually floated over. “Are you sure that you should be writing those down on paper, Master? Couldn’t someone steal them?”

“Firstly, Wayzz,” Fu said, “could you please take you and your cherry a little further away? You know you’re not allowed to know these recipes.”

Wayzz sighed, but obeyed.

“Secondly,” Fu continued, “while I agree… it is a danger we must risk. The next guardian will need them.”

“You already know who that is going to be?”

“Yes,” Fu said, not hesitating even a moment. “I know exactly who should be the next guardian. And this…” he tapped his paper, “will help them immensely, especially as it means they will not have to translate it on their own.”

The two old friends fell silent, Wayzz enjoying the food and Master Fu slowly working on the grimoire. There was a peacefulness in the small house, and, paired with the wonderful fresh air that the morning had provided, it was altogether perfect.

Besides that akuma attack, of course.

Fu glanced at the TV again. Cat Noir was holding off the akuma, keeping it occupied while saving civilians. But Ladybug herself had yet to show up.

Slowly, Fu found himself drawn more and more to watching the TV and less and less to actually working on translating the grimoire. The peace he’d enjoyed just minutes before was rapidly dissipating, replaced by a feeling he hadn’t had for many years; it was one that gathered in the pit of his stomach, curling in on itself.

One that said that something was very, very wrong.

“Master?” Wayzz floated over to the TV, joining Fu. “Is something wrong?”

“Hopefully nothing other than an old man’s worries,” Fu murmured - though the feeling in his stomach told him otherwise. “Ladybug may have been deterred in some way in her civilian life.”

The akuma made a vicious shoving motion with its arms, stretching to its very fingertips, and vines covered in thorns burst from the ground. They slammed in Cat Noir, rocketing into him so quickly and driving him back with such force that the camera couldn’t even turn fast enough to keep up with where he landed.

Far off in the distance, Fu could hear the slam of the cat hero hitting something - ground or building, he wasn’t sure.

Fu winced, then, with sudden determination flooding through him, stood. “Ladybug would never let her partner go this long getting injured,” he said decisively. “I must enter the fight myself.”

“But Master,” Wayzz protested, “you may get injured! You can’t risk that happening! You’re the guardian!”

“Cat Noir needs help,” Fu insisted.

“Just wait a little longer,” Wayzz begged, floating straight up into Fu’s face, as if invading his personal space would somehow stop him from leaving. “Ladybug will surely arrive any minute now!”

Fu looked back at the TV. Several seconds stretched out, filled only with the sound of Cat Noir beginning to struggle against the akuma.

Finally, Fu sighed. “All right. Just a few more minutes.”

However, by the time a few more minutes had passed - without Ladybug showing up - Fu had to admit within himself that there wasn’t much he’d even be able to do to help. He was just an old man, after all, and couldn’t be completely sure who Ladybug had chosen as the other holders of the miraculouses.

Fu sat down at his desk again, the remnants of the fruit salad now left untouched by both him and Wayzz.

Surely Ladybug will come.

Cat Noir leapt, narrowly avoiding getting slammed into with a thick vine again.

Surely she wouldn’t leave Cat Noir to this fate.

The camera lost sight of Cat Noir for several tense minutes - but at last found him again, gasping in the Seine as a whirlpool developed around him.

I must hold onto hope.

Yet hope slowly faded away like an evening glow into twilight. Cat Noir was holding his own for now - barely - but was obviously becoming more and more battered.

“I’m sure Ladybug will come,” Wayzz said aloud. “Cat Noir won’t have to fight this one on his own.”

Fu said nothing. He just watched the TV.

The feeling in his stomach whispered that it was right.

And, by the time night fell, Master Fu had to agree.

He had been right.

Because something must be very, very wrong if Ladybug wasn’t showing up.

-

3 Weeks Later

“Parisians are currently being evacuated,” the TV blared.

Fu stared into his cup, watching the way the surface of his tea was rippling, set off by the motion of his shaking hands.

He had stopped to take a short break - or, more accurately, had been ordered by Wayzz to stop and take a short rest. But rest wasn’t possible at this time. Calm wasn’t something he could feel anymore.

Parisians were… scared. Scared for their families, for their futures, and for their lives - to the point that some of them had begun to leave.

The departures had begun as a trickle that slowly strengthened into a roar - and now, Mayor Bourgeois had ordered a full-scale evacuation.

For the past three weeks, Master Fu had scoured Paris ceaselessly for Marinette Dupain-Cheng, searching for her among those departing. If her parents left, would Marinette follow? Fu knew she loved her family beyond words; she’d do anything to protect them.

But she also loved Paris; she would do anything to protect it, too.

Fu’s hands shook slightly as he slowly raised the cup to his lips, attempting to take a sip of the tea. The hot liquid burned the roof of his mouth, however, and he hurriedly put it back down.

Attempting to find Marinette was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. As more people began leaving at the same time, it became even more difficult for him to try and find her among the crowds.

“Master.”

Master Fu looked up. Wayzz was floating in front of him.

“Don’t torture yourself like that,” the green kwami said gently.

“But what if I missed her, Wayzz?” Fu asked - and, despite what the kwami had just said, his voice was tortured. “What if she was behind me, or beside me in a crowd, and I didn’t turn? What if she cannot be found because she’s already gone?”

“You chose her to be Ladybug,” Wayzz reminded him. “You know that she wouldn’t have run from this. She would never leave Cat Noir behind.”

Fu fell silent. All logic pointed toward abandonment by the ladybug hero… but Wayzz was right. Fu had chosen her, and it was for a reason. Deep down, he still trusted her, despite all reason.

But he also had to try and think logically.

Either Marinette had left, was hiding, or was somehow in deep, deep trouble. Perhaps Hawkmoth had discovered her identity and taken her prisoner. Or maybe there had been a different akuma attack that none of them had heard of, and it had kidnapped Ladybug when she took it on. Or maybe she’d been injured in some way and was unable to help… or get help.

Fu sighed; there was just no way to know.

“Quake is currently at the Louvre; Parisians, do not approach the area. All those within, if you can hear me, head to the nearest exit and run.”

The news channels had become less and less formal over the past few weeks; the anchors were more concerned with keeping people safe than actually sounding professional.

Things had only gotten worse since the first akuma attack Ladybug hadn’t come to. That akuma had been, on its own, one of the most powerful Fu had ever seen Hawkmoth create.

But then another akuma had joined it.

And then another.

Now, akumatized civilians were running rampant across Paris. Nowhere was safe.

“I am not doing enough, Wayzz,” Fu murmured, staring in exhaustion at his television.

“You are not in this fight alone, Master,” Wayzz said, drifting closer. “There are other heroes fighting these akumas alongside you - magical and everyday.”

“We need the ladybug, Wayzz,” Fu shook his head. “She is the only one who can heal this mess. Paris can rebuild after the dust has settled, but we need her miraculous cure to purify the akumas first.”

“This is, admittedly, a bleak situation,” Wayzz agreed. “However, you must remember that you are not alone in this. People from very different walks of life have stepped up during this time of crisis.”

“That is true,” Fu admitted.

Seeming to be encouraged by this, Wayzz smiled and continued. “Cat Noir is holding out, for one. He has surely realized by now that Ladybug will not be joining him, yet he continues to fight on his own. You chose a good holder for Plagg.”

Fu couldn’t help but give a faint smile at the thought of Cat Noir. “I will admit, he is one of the best Cat Noirs we have ever had.”

“He even defeated one of the akumatized civilians!”

“Yes, but he had to destroy the akuma to do so.” Fu’s face deepened back into a frown. “Adrien Agreste is a boy with a big heart. He loves life. Even though they are just butterflies, I know he doesn’t want to cataclysm them.”

Wayzz sighed. “You’re right. His hand was forced during that fight; it was a desperate situation. But it’s not worth it for him to continue doing so. It would change him if he did. After all, if it’s all right to take life from butterflies, then what next? Where would the destruction end?”

Fu nodded. “You are correct; destruction needs a firm hand on the reins that won’t ever let up, and Adrien Agreste is one of the few people in all of Paris who understands, and therefore respects the power of destruction and the effects it can have.”

“If only the akuma he’d defeated was one of the bigger ones…”

“You just said that it was a desperate situation.”

“Yes! It was! But, in comparison to some other akumas…”

Fu sighed yet again. “That is true; smaller is only relative in this situation.”

There was silence for a beat. Then, as if trying to lighten the mood, Wayzz added, “At least he’s keeping Parisians safe as they evacuate.”

“Yes,” Fu murmured. “Without him, I’m sure all of Paris would be in dire trouble indeed. The akumas are becoming more and more violent.”

“Which is why you need to rest,” Wayzz added. “Save you strength.”

As if on cue, there was a rumble in the distance, shaking the floor. A crash rang out from the kitchen - likely a teacup dropping due to the quakes.

Both Fu and Wayzz winced. “Quake,” they both chorused.

“Obviously, he isn’t keeping his effects to just the Louvre,” Wayzz noted.

“Think of what it must be doing to it,” Fu shook his head sadly. “The building is made of glass.”

“Cat Noir is on the scene. He is - oh, I’ve lost sight of him. Crap. Oh holy crap. Heavens above, where did he go? Alec, get your eyes on him! If Cat Noir is dead, all of Paris is lost- oh, wait. There he is. Cat Noir is battling it out with Quake at the Louvre, and- and he’s gone again.” Nadja’s voice was strained, cracking, and when her face appeared on screen again, there were deep bags under her eyes. “Apparently, he’s playing a game of cat and mouse with this akuma. I’m not sure - oh! The civilians are escaping. He’s using himself as a distraction.”

“That is very dangerous,” Wayzz observed.

“True,” Fu agreed, then couldn’t help but crack a smile. “Imagine how his father would react to knowing it was his son keeping Paris safe.”

“Probably would use it for media purposes,” Wayzz shrugged his tiny shoulders. “His next fashion line would be inspired by Cat Noir and modeled by him.”

“Is Gabriel Agreste even a fan of the heroes?” Fu pointed out. “I don’t think we’ve ever heard him speak on them.”

Both paused, considering this. Then, together they shrugged. “Na-a-ah. Everyone loves heroes.”

“According to the Ladyblogger, Steam is also on the move. Please stay out of the South side of Paris, citizens.”

Fu glanced toward the tablet with the grimoire on it, still at his desk. He had no phone, but could access internet through the tablet - and the Ladyblog had saved him from wandering into akuma territory during his search for Marinette more than once.

The Ladyblogger was keeping a 24/7 update going on her blog, doing her best to report where akumas were at any given moment. People who spotted any sent in footage to her. A certain DJ was apparently helping her with it. The blog was the only reason civilians were able to avoid akumas even somewhat.

“Wait. It appears that the Couffaines have returned to Paris! Parisians in the immediate area, please go to the Seine now!”

Fu looked back at the TV screen. A certain family who lived on a boat had been offering their services to the city these past weeks, ferrying civilians away from Paris. They’d even been involved in helping people being chased by akuams several times. Their boat had taken some hits thanks to this, but it was holding up surprisingly well.

“Cat Noir is no longer in sight at the Louvre, but Quake is staying there searching for him. Either Cat Noir is hiding - and doing a good job at it - or he has left. Parisians are now streaming out of the area.” There was a beat of silence. “This just in: the next group of evacuees are being chosen. Please, civilians, keep your phones on you at all times. You may be called for next.”

“Chloe has been busy as well,” Wayzz noted.

“She makes a much better everyday hero than a super one,” Fu agreed.

Those who had stepped up to help were intensely varied, yet the most surprising of the bunch was Chloe Bourgeois. She, the source of many akumas herself, was one of the few people who was staying level-headed in the situation. With everything going down around her, Chloe had dropped her own drama and risen up. She was now helping her father make decisions in the best interests of all of Paris - and she was actually surprisingly good at knowing which countries to contact at which times for assistance.

“Just yesterday, the government decided to finally reach out to the kingdom of Achu,” Wayzz nodded. “You were busy searching at the time.”

“That has Chloe’s influence written all over it,” Master Fu noted.

“Evacuees are now being welcomed there,” Wayzz explained. “I suppose London is too close for comfort for some of them.”

“Yes, well, Hawkmoth surely won’t just stop with Paris,” Fu said grimly. “Where to but the next city of consequence?”

It was a closed loop of terror. No one was safe any longer in the world, and it was in desperate need of more heroes.

Which was why Fu had been working so tirelessly - or, at least working while suppressing his exhaustion as best he could. Fu was an old man, secretly the guardian of the miraculouses, and if he perished, all might truly be lost. And yet, he had risked that, walking the streets of the city and searching desperately for the one girl who might be able to save them all.

But to no avail.

“Citizens, I repeat, please keep your phones on you at all times. The Paris police force is sending out alerts to sections of the city with instructions when you are to be evacuated - but only at the moment you are to be. There seems to be a new akuma who can hear phone signals, so the city is attempting to time things as closely as possible to the actual action.”

Fu finally reached for his tea again. Despite Wayzz’s attempts to boost his spirits, now that they had both quieted down, he only felt more nervous. What would happen if any of the everyday heroes were told to evacuate? The Ladyblogger, Chloe, himself - or, worst of all, Adrien? What if Cat Noir was told in his civilian form to leave? What would he do? Would he reveal his identity just so he could stay? Would his father truly make a fashion line based on him?

Slam!

“Master Fu!”

Fu whipped his head around, almost dropping his tea cup.

There, standing in his doorway, was Cat Noir himself.

The cat hero was panting, a bag slung over his shoulder as if he were about to go to school. He was dusted with fine particles of glass, which didn’t bode too well for the Louvre.

And then, as if determined to make this already surprising situation even more so, Cat Noir met his eyes and blurted out, “I know who Ladybug is.”

Fu stared. “Pardon me?”

“I know who Ladybug is,” Cat Noir stressed, shutting the door behind him and hurrying over, kneeling down in front of the old man. “I know her civilian identity.”

“Then please, do enlighten me,” Master Fu said drily, setting down his tea cup and attempting to appear composed. If Cat Noir was wrong, then-

“Her name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng. She’s the daughter of Tom and Sabine, who run a bakery. They make the best croissants there, and she’s the best person to exist on planet earth - or anywhere, actually. She wants a hamster, loves to design, and-”

“I believe you,” Fu interrupted. The information was too exact to easily dismiss, and after a moment, he sighed. “That is to say… you are correct.” He paused. “How did you find out?”

As if he’d expected this question, Cat Noir pulled his bag forward and, reaching inside, produced a beret. “She gave me this gift. It was signed as being from Marinette, but I walked into my room and saw Ladybug leaving. It was easy to put two and two together after that.” He let out a pent-up breath. “I mean, I’d suspected she might be Ladybug before, like when we fought Kwami-Buster. But Plagg always told me that I was wrong.”

Fu nodded. Cat Noir was no fool; he was much more straightforward than Marinette, making him the perfect candidate to stumble upon their true identities by accident. “I see. However, I must know how you discovered my location.” Fu indicated the room. “It’s supposed to be secret, and we’ve never met here before; how did you know you’d find me here?”

“You run a business,” Cat Noir said bluntly. “It was easy to look you up on the internet, and I knew what I was looking for, seeing as I met you after we defeated Syren.”

“I knew that I shouldn’t have set up that website,” Master Fu grumbled, shooting an accusing look at Wayzz.

“Don’t look at me!” the kwami protested.

“It was your idea to set it up!”

“Master Fu,” Cat Noir cut in. “Please, I don’t have much time. I need to get back out there to help protect the next wave of evacuees from akumas.”

“You’re involved in that?” Fu asked, taken off guard.

“Chloe is helping me plan it. We’ve worked together before, seeing as she was Queen Bee. She knows a lot about government that I don’t.” Cat Noir began twisting his ring about his finger - obviously a nervous habit of his. “She acts like she doesn’t care about anything, but she really is a tough nut to crack. Nothing gets past her. If it weren’t for her, I’m not sure what would’ve happened to Paris by this point.”

“So… if you’re so busy helping Paris, why visit me?” Fu asked, studying the cat hero. “Clearly this is an important matter.”

“I need help,” Cat Noir said miserably. “I’ve tried to find Marinette in her civilian form. The last time I saw her was when she was going out my window. But her parents don’t know where she is, and none of our class knows where she’s gone - not even her best friend, Alya, and she’s the Ladyblogger to boot. I’ve looked everywhere for Marinette! But I can’t cover ground very fast on my own. I need your help to find her. Something must be wrong.”

“The Ladyblogger is Alya?” Fu asked, his attention caught by that detail.

“Yeah, but we need to find Marinette,” Cat Noir said, dismissing the fact.

“Very true,” Fu murmured - but his mind was racing.

He himself, of course, was never told the true identities of the heroes that Ladybug had chosen to give a miraculous - but as soon as he’d heard Cat Noir describe this Alya, he had the sudden feeling that she must have been Rena Rogue.

But he had to be careful with this new information; he might be wrong, for one. For another, if Cat Noir had guessed out Ladybug’s identity even before he was given definite proof, he might be able to figure this one out as well. Fu had to act as if nothing had just happened.

“Can you help me?” Cat Noir asked, misery evident in his voice. “Please?”

Shaking himself, Fu focused on the problem at hand. “I’ve been searching for Ladybug myself. I haven’t found her.”

Cat Noir drooped. “Then there’s nothing we can do?”

“I will continue searching,” Master Fu assured him. “I believe the only thing we can do is continue evacuating citizens and trying to protect them. There are others helping us, such as that family on their ship.”

“The Couffaines?” Cat Noir asked. “Yeah, I know them. Juleka’s in my class. Luka and Marinette are pretty close. Or… were pretty close?” He growled in frustration, digging the heels of his palms in his eyes. “I don’t know anymore.”

“They were close?” Fu repeated. Perhaps this Luka was Viperion or Carapace? Ladybug would only have given a miraculous to those she trusted most.

“Yeah, he’s a musician.”

Perhaps Viperion, then; he’d played the lute very well.

“I should go,” Cat Noir said abruptly, standing. “I need to get to the next evacuation point.”

“One more thing,” Fu said, just as Cat Noir reached the door. “Do you know who it is who is helping the Ladyblogger with her uploads? The DJ.”

“Nino Lahiffe,” Cat Noir replied. “He’s Alya’s boyfriend. They’re taking turns going through footage being sent to Alya while the other rests.”

“Was Marinette close with him as well?”

“They’ve been in class together for years,” Cat Noir recalled, hand hovering over the doorknob. “I think they might have been.”

“He is trustworthy?” Fu checked.

“He’s one of the most trustworthy people you’ll find,” Cat Noir vouched. “He’d do anything to keep others safe; that’s why he’s helping Alya.”

That fit the description of a good turtle hero, then.

“But also maybe because he likes her.”

All these people that loved Marinette, yet no Marinette to be found.

“Master Fu?”

Fu looked up. Cat Noir was still waiting at the door.

“Thank you for coming,” Master Fu inclined his head to him. “I’m not sure if I should say that I’m relieved or not that you knew who our dear Ladybug was.”

Was.

The word hung in the air between them for a few moments, horrible and empty of life.

“She was sitting behind me in class for months,” Cat Noir mumbled, his voice tortured.

Fu tried to think of some reassurance, but all he could come up with was, “We’ll find her.”

Yet the was was still ringing in his ears, and Fu found he couldn’t bring himself to entirely believe it anymore.

Cat Noir studied him for several moments, and as Fu locked eyes with him, he had the feeling that the young hero could see that lack of hope in his eyes.

At last, the black cat simply nodded at him and slipped out the door.

For several minutes, Fu stared at the closed door, sipping his tea. It had grown cold, but the gears in his mind turning too fast for him to pay much heed to that.

“Master?” Wayzz finally asked. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m not quite sure myself,” Master Fu admitted. He glanced over at the green kwami. “I’m starting to doubt that we’ll ever find Ladybug.”

“Don’t give up hope!” Wayzz encouraged.

“I’ll try not to,” Fu sighed, putting his tea down. “I wish that there was at least some guidance that I could be given.”

Whomp!

In the air right in front of Fu, there was a brilliant flash of white light. For a single moment, he thought it was some vehicle passing by outside and reflecting the sun through his window.

Except the light didn’t disappear.

Instead, it became a white circle, hanging suspended midair.

And then, for the second time that day, a hero suddenly burst through a door - except, it was an entirely different kind of door this time.

“Master Fu!” Bunnyx exclaimed.

Master Fu leapt to his feet - no small feat for him at his age - overturning his tea as he did so. “Bunnyx? What are you doing here?”

The bunny hero bowed to him hurriedly. “I need your help.”

“Does this have to do with Ladybug?” Fu said urgently. “She has gone missing.”

“Yes,” Bunnyx said. Her face crumpled. “It… it’s all my fault. I brought her to the future - about three weeks ago from this point in time - to stop a possible future. Cat Noir had found out her civilian identity. They…” She hesitated, as if suddenly remembering how she wasn’t supposed to share the future, even with Master Fu. “How much can I tell you?”

“Everything,” Fu said firmly. “This is an emergency of the highest order. Paris has descended into chaos during the time that Ladybug has been gone. The entire city is being evacuated. Without the cure, there’s no stopping Hawkmoth. There’s even been talk of trying to ask American heroes to come help Paris.” He took a step closer to the blue and white hero. “I think that it’s all or nothing now. We can’t afford to lose.”

“Okay,” Bunnyx said decisively, tapping her umbrella against her hand in a quick rhythm, as if to let out nervous energy. “Okay.” She hesitated for one more second, then blurted out, “They dated as civilians.”

“At last!” Wayzz cried, flipping in the air. “My ship has sailed!”

Fu and Bunnyx stared at him.

Wayzz coughed. “I mean… yes. Very nice. Carry on, Bunnyx.”

“As I was saying,” Bunnyx said, side-eyeing Wayzz, as if daring him to try and interrupt her again, “they were living their best lives until Hawkmoth discovered their identities. Or at least Cat Noir’s. He targeted Cat Noir and akumatized him into a villain called Chat Blanc.”

“So you brought Ladybug to stop him?” Fu’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Why could the Ladybug in the future not save him on her own?”

“It’s a possible future,” Bunnyx explained. “I had to try and fix it from the root of the problem by using the Mini-bug that had caused it.” She paused, then quietly admitted, “Also, the Ladybug from that time is… dead.”

Fear dumped over Fu in an icy stream. “Is our Ladybug still there? Right now? Is she still… alive?”

“I… I can’t answer that.” Bunnyx rapped her umbrella against her hand more forcefully. She obviously had been under a lot of stress, and it was taking its toll on her. “Look, in the future, Hawkmoth tried to force Chat Blanc to destroy Ladybug - their Ladybug, I mean. But, rather than her, he destroyed the world - and still killed her in the process.” Bunnyx began to pace, tapping her closed umbrella aggressively against her leg as she did so. “He shot the moon, Fu. He’s more powerful than any akuma that’s outside right now; I don’t have to see them to tell you that.”

“He destroyed the world?” Fu stared at her. “Surely you are exaggerating.”

“Nothing was left,” Bunnyx shook her head. “Just water, ruins, and corpses.”

Fu winced. “So you brought our Ladybug to save him.”

“The plan was for Mini-bug to purify the akuma and come back to the present,” Bunnyx explained. “She’d change how she accidentally revealed her identity to Cat Noir, and that future would never happen.”

“The plan was?” Fu said, noting the way the word had just come back again. “What happened?”

Bunnyx squeezed her eyes shut, as if in pain. After several tense seconds of silence, she whispered, “He won.”

“Who?” Fu demanded. “Hawkmoth?”

“Chat Blanc. He took her earrings. And… that’s all I could see. I don’t know what happened.”

“What do you mean?” Fu asked.

“Come with me into my burrow,” Bunnyx said urgently. “I’ll show you.”

Fu exchanged an uncertain glance with Wayzz.

As if worried that he were considering not coming, Bunnyx took another step closer to him. “Please. The future of the world depends on this. You’re the only one I can trust to know what to do. With Ladybug having been ripped from time and beaten in the future, there’s no older version of her for me to turn to.”

“All right,” Fu said decisively. “Wayzz, shell on!”

There was a flash of green light, and a moment later, Jade Turtle followed Bunnyx into her burrow.

The first thing Jade Turtle noticed was how white it was. Circles speckled the air, playing footage of some kind.

The second thing Jade Turtle noticed was the small clump of circles that only showed white.

“What is this?” he breathed, approaching the cluster. He had never been in the burrow before, but he already could tell that this was an anomaly.

“That’s where the future is supposed to be,” Bunnyx explained, trailing after him. “It’s where I saw what happened to Cat Noir and Marinette: him figuring out her identity, the dating, and then the akumatization. But, after he got the earrings… it turned white.” She gestured to one in the center of the cluster. “That was the original. But, not long after it turned white, the ones around it started to as well.”

“What can that possibly mean?” Jade Turtle frowned.

“I don’t know!” Bunnyx growled in frustration. “I brought you here to see if you’d know.”

“I can’t tell from the outside,” Jade Turtle said decisively. “I need to go in.”

“What?” Bunnyx stared at him. “Are you crazy?”

“That’s the only way to find out,” Jade Turtle insisted. “It’ll just be a reconnaissance mission. I’ll try to locate Ladybug without getting involved with… you said his name was Chat Blanc?”

“Yes,” Bunnyx nodded, worry apparent on her face. “I’m going to be straight with you, Fu: that’s a horrible plan. If it were good, then I would have gone in already myself.”

“You are the only one with access to the future,” Jade Turtle shook his head. “I, on the other hand, know how to blend in and stay hidden in plain sight. I’m the guardian of the miraculous; I’ve kept myself hidden from anyone who might want to use them for years.”

“For the wish?”

“Exactly,” Jade Turtle nodded. “I’m the best option for this. Actually,” he gave a joyless smile, “I’m likely your only option.”

“How will you get back?” Bunnyx asked.

“With Ladybug’s help,” Jade Turtle said simply.

Bunnyx stared at him before giving a bark of laughter. “You mean you’re going in there blind, will maybe find Mini-bug - wherever she might be in whatever that is, if she’s still even alive - and then trust that she will find a way out?”

“Yes,” Jade Turtle said simply.

Bunnyx shook her head. “Maybe an older version of herself could, but Mini-bug…? She’s still crazy about Adrien Agreste right now!”

“Is there ever a time she isn’t?” Jade Turtle pointed out.

“Well, there was this possible future this one time where she fell in love with Cat Noir instead, but then you managed to contact me and insisted that we change it since you like Adrinette better-”

“Bunnyx,” Jade Turtle interrupted, “I know she can do it.”

Bunnyx went quiet, studying him. Finally, she quietly said, “You really have that much faith in Mini-bug?”

“I chose her, didn’t I?”

“Then why hasn’t she come back herself?” Bunnyx challenged.

“There is no way of knowing for sure,” Jade Turtle glanced at the burrow hole. “But the holder of the ladybug miraculous is naturally drawn towards healing and curing situations. She should be able to sense the right way - or at least discover the path. Besides,” he added, “if we stick to the original plan and purify the akuma, then you might be able to get me out yourself.”

“Fair enough,” Bunnyx reluctantly admitted. “But… be careful, Fu; the white is spreading to the past for some reason. I… I don’t know what it is. But I can’t seem to stop it.”

“It’s affecting only the future for now?” Jade Turtle checked. “Not the time period I was just in?”

“Yes.”

“Then it’s within a safe limit.”

“For now,” Bunnyx muttered.

“We’ll find her,” Jade Turtle promised.

He’d said the exact same words not ten minutes ago to Chat Noir, but now… he actually believed them.

However, before stepping forward, he paused. “Bunnyx? Do you know the identities of the heroes that Ladybug chose?”

“Their civilian identities? Yes; why?”

“Just wondering,” Jade Turtle shrugged, then, hope rising, stepped into the center white circle.

He was instantly swallowed up by the white. It was blindingly bright, just like when Bunnyx’s burrow first burst forth into existence in his house. Jade Turtle squinted against it.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then, a feeling like static electricity suddenly washed over his whole body.

Traveling through a burrow could be disconcerting, though Jade Turtle obviously didn’t have much to compare this to; just the single trip into the burrow he’d gone through just now with Bunnyx.

Yet, despite that, he knew instinctively that it didn’t feel like this. It was like an entire force of energy gathering its strength, a tidal wave about to crash over him - and right now he was only feeling the winds.

Whatever this energy was, it didn’t want him here.

He had to get to the other side before it could stop him.

Jade Turtle pushed back against the energy, gritting his teeth.

The energy seemed to push back against him, trying to stop him.

But he was old, not weak.

For several moments, he struggled, an invisible battle of wills with this pure whiteness. It seemed to whisper about him, static filling his ears, and bright spots of colour bursting and popping before his eyes. His head went dizzy, filled with the static feeling.

For a moment, nothing happened. He hung, suspended.

Trapped.

The wave was about to crash.

Jade Turtle gave one last, desperate push against the energy, and-

Without any warning, he burst out of the burrow, falling to his knees and almost braining himself on a plant pot.

For several moments, all Jade Turtle could do was pant on his hands and knees. Whatever the white was, it had notwanted him to get through.

But… get through to where?

He looked up, and was greeted by…

His house.

“What?” he murmured, straightening. He’d only just left here. How could he possibly be back?

Jade Turtle went to take a step forward, but his foot bumped against something. He glanced down, then paused.

There was an aquarium on the floor.

Filled with turtles.

And, now that he was looking down, he could see that he was no longer in his superhero form of Jade Turtle. Instead, he was in his normal clothes - except for his shirt, which had a turtle pattern playing across it.

“What is this?” Fu murmured, fear beginning to grow within him. He hurried over to the window, peering outside. His body ached with the movement, as if he’d just undergone a strenuous physical activity, but he ignored the pain, trying to get a good look at the outside world.

He was greeted by… Paris.

Except…

It was black and white.

“What?” Fu breathed, confusion flooding through him. “How can this be?”

His house was coloured, and so was he.

So why did the outside world look like this?

Fu’s hands began to shake, and he sat down on the floor. He needed to think.

Bunnyx had described a world destroyed by Chat Blanc, filled with water and ruins. But there was no water in sight, and all the buildings appeared intact.

Fu rubbed his forehead. He had next to nothing to go off to make a guess of any sort; the only thing he could think of that could explain what made the world turn… well, retro, was that it was somehow an effect of Chat Blanc destroying the world.

Yet, at the same time, that made no sense. If Chat Blanc had destroyed the world, wouldn’t nothing be here?

I must investigate further, Fu decided. He went to walk to the door, but was jerked to a halt, as if he was tied to something. Twisting about, Fu’s gaze instantly fell on the aquarium.

It only took a second before the realization hit him.

Turtles.

His shirt.

His miraculous.

For some reason, he couldn’t leave the aquarium behind. Bringing the turtle miraculous with him seemed to have created these turtle-related items, and he couldn’t go anywhere without them.

Or maybe he wasn’t allowed to go anywhere without them.

If he had to bring the aquarium with him, then, he wouldn’t be able to cover ground very quickly. He was old and slow as it was, much less while carrying around an aquarium of all things.

Fu hurriedly shuffled about the room. Everything was where he always kept it. He quickly located what he was looking for, and within minutes, he’d constructed some new additions to the aquarium: wheels, and a handle for him to push it about with.

“Time to find Ladybug,” he murmured, straightening and nodding at his handiwork.

This time, while pushing the aquarium, Fu made it to the door and outside.

As soon as he closed it behind him, he noticed the difference:

He was no longer in colour.

Feeling a slightly frazzled, Fu began to push the aquarium down the street, starting his search for Ladybug.

-

Bunnyx paced her burrow, eyes locked on the cluster of white circles.

This place, created by her miraculous, was supposed to be beyond the touch of time. Usually, when she sent a hero into the future or the past, she could view what happened to them.

But this time…

She was blind.

Bunnyx swung her umbrella, popping it open and closed, trying to keep her hands busy. She glanced at the circles again, as if in some half-hearted hope that Fu would already be stepping out with Mini-bug at his side.

Bunnyx liked to think of herself as the protector of time. The burrow was the one place where the bunny miraculous couldn’t be in the same place at the same time. Holders of it over the centuries never entered it at the same time. Maybe because of that, it was actually the only place where time really did have any true meaning. She could be in any place more than once, and could end up with multiple copies of herself running around in any time period - except for the burrow.

Bunnyx raked a hand through her hair, sending her already spiky hair shooting out in all directions. Without her ability to see what was going on, she wasn’t sure what to do.

She glanced at the cluster again - and was just in time to see another circle fizzle, as if being overtaken by static, then blip out into pure white.

Another one gone.

Bunnyx approached one of the few circles close to the white group that still showed images. She set her hand upon it, playing it back.

It didn’t help her. All it revealed was Cat Noir and Ladybug in the middle of fighting an akuma. It was after they’d revealed identities to one another, and the knowledge seemed to have further empowered them, letting them work in a tandem that they’d never before enjoyed until they had this absolute trust in one another.

Out of the corner of her eye, Bunnyx noticed movement. That wasn’t unusual in the burrow, seeing as all around her were circles portraying movement of some kind. But this one was out of the ordinary enough that she turned to look.

Across the burrow, a circle was fizzing, going static-ey - and then turned white.

But it was nowhere near the cluster.

“What? No!” Bunnyx shot to it, slamming her palm against the circle, as if trying to turn it back so she could watch what happened, the way she could with any of the normal circles.

But nothing happened.

That one had nothing to do with the future! Bunnyx thought, backing up, fear roaring in her ears. Why did it go out?

The white was obviously spreading - but the fact that the future affected something so out of the way, something that was so far into the past… it was not just disturbing, but downright terrifying.

Bunnyx stood before the circle, her hand hovering just over it it. What if she tried to step in, the way Master Fu had? What if she touched this circle, not just with the intention of playing it back, but of entering? What if she tried to find out what was beyond this white?

But what if it destroyed her entirely? What if it had already done so to Master Fu, to Mini-bug, and all hope was lost?

Bunnyx let her hand drop. She didn’t dare go in; like Master Fu had said, she was the only one who could access the future. If the white cut her off from the time period she’d picked Fu up from…

Bunnyx actually wasn’t sure what would happen if that occurred, but she knew in her gut that it wouldn’t be good.

“I think that it’s all or nothing now. We can’t afford to lose.”

Fu was the wisest person that Bunnyx knew - and she’d traveled through time and spoken to some of the brightest minds in history. If Master Fu had believed that this situation was truly that dire… then this was a very desperate situation indeed.

“All or nothing,” Bunnyx whispered, trying to rein her fear in.

Her gaze fell on the circle that led back to the past, back to the time period she’d first retrieved Mini-bug from and then Master Fu.

It was still holding steady - for now. But the hand of time was slow slipping its fingers about her burrow, and now, it was starting to squeeze, to choke and kill it. She was inside a time bomb, but she couldn’t see the clock ticking down to the explosion.

She didn’t have a choice.

She couldn’t afford to wait.

With sudden determination, Bunnyx rallied herself and marched over to the hole - and

stepped

through.

It was utter chaos. People were running from something, screaming. The sun went dark, as if something huge was blocking it out, and a dull roar filled her ears.

Bunnyx turned, alarmed - but it was no akuma blocking the sun.

A building was falling, creaking and groaning as it descended straight toward her.

Bunnyx didn’t even have time to gasp before someone jumped in front of her, baton twirling, the speed of it cutting straight through the stone as the building crashed down. The hole created was barely big enough for the two of them to stand in.

Dust exploded all around them, and Bunnyx burst into a fit of coughing, trying to wave it out of her face. “Th-thanks for the save.”

“Bunnyx?”

For the first time, Bunnyx looked down at the person who had saved her.

He was a little taller than the last time she’d visited him in the past, but his green eyes were still as keen as ever.

“Cat Noir,” Bunnyx greeted, then gave a few more final coughs, as if for good measure.

“What are you doing here?” Cat Noir asked, waving dust away. “If you’re going to help me evacuate Parisians, I certainly would appreciate it-”

“No,” Bunnyx interrupted. “You need to come with me.” She grabbed him by the bell, opening up an entrance back to her burrow and dragging him through even as he yelped.

“Bunnyx, what are you doing? Paris needs its heroes-”

“-here,” Bunnyx interrupted. “It needs all its heroes here. Look, I asked Master Fu for help, but he’s gone, and I’ll be cut off soon enough from the past - the place you’re from - so I have to bring you and all your fellow heroes here.”

With that, she turned and re-entered the circle again, willing herself to exit in a different location.

Bunnyx had watched Fu open up the miraculous box many times in alternate futures.

It was a simple enough matter when she walked into his room once again to stride over and pop it open.

Bunnyx glanced over the miraculouses. The turtle one was gone, taken by Master Fu. She didn’t dare waste time trying to locate it in another time; she’d have to find a situation where Mini-bug didn’t need the miraculous, and she couldn’t afford to leisurely flip through past akuma attacks as if she were reading a magazine in a waiting room. The past and future were disappearing for some reason. She had to act, now.

Bunnyx snatched up all the miraculouses she needed, then opened up a way back into her burrow.

“First off, rude,” Cat Noir complained as soon as she re-entered - though she knew that it wouldn’t seem to him like any time had passed. “Second off, what are you even talking about?”

“I’m talking about those,” Bunnyx tossed over her shoulder, inclining her head toward the cluster of white circles. Then, she hopped back out of her burrow.

It took her several precious minutes of going in and out of her burrow to reach each hero, give them their miraculous, and drag them back through. She had to make them transform before going back in, which took time. The kwamis were very talkative. But Master Fu didn’t want any of them knowing each other’s identities, so Bunnyx had to abide by his rules.

“This is ridiculous,” Queen Bee was complaining when Bunnyx finished off by bringing Ryuko through. “We’re leaving Paris completely unguarded! And I don’t even know where we are!”

“We’re going to lose Paris if we don’t save the future,” Bunnyx replied shortly. She got straight to the point. “The future is disappearing - and it’s starting to affect the past. I don’t know why.” She pointed at the cluster of white circles. “Master Fu went in there to try and find Mini-bug.”

“Excuse you, but where are we?!” Queen Bee demanded, stamping her high-heeled foot. “I’m busy right now, so I don’t care about Master Wu or whatever his name was.”

Bunnyx didn’t even try to resist the urge to glare at Queen Bee; Chloe was just as annoying as she remembered. “This is my burrow. I have the miraculous of time. These circles allow me to access time - and some of them are going out.”

“Did you say that Ladybug is in there?” Cat Noir asked, his attention still obviously caught on that point. His entire body seemed to practically be vibrating, as if he’d just downed an entire energy drink.

“Hold your horses,” Bunnyx warned. “We can’t just go jumping in there.”

“Why not?” all the heroes demanded at once.

“Your Master Yu did,” Queen Bee added.

“And look where that got him!” Bunnyx yelled. “He’s not here! I need backup, not to babysit! Quiet down so I can explain!”

“Paris is being left completely unguarded right now!” Queen Bee yelled back. “We need to go back! Without us, everyone is doomed!”

Bunnyx forced herself to draw in a long breath - it was through her teeth, making a hissing noise, but she attempted it anyway. “Look. You don’t need to worry about Paris. I have the ability to let you out at the exact moment you left.” She tried to not think too hard about the fact that the past might just get cut off by the white. “Paris isn’t losing any time by you being in my burrow. Here, though, we are on a time limit.”

“That makes no sense,” Viperion frowned.

“Shouldn’t this be the one place outside of the reach of time?” Ryuko agreed. “If you access time here, that would logically make this the only place time stands still.”

“It should be,” Bunnyx replied shortly. She surveyed the heroes in front of her.

During the time leading up to her becoming the holder of the bunny miraculous, she’d seen many other heroes given a miraculous. She would have loved to grab all of them.  But now that the timeline had been changed, Mini-bug had technically never had a chance to give those people their miraculouses.

Instead, all she had were Cat Noir, Rena Rogue, Carapace, Viperion, Pegasus, King Monkey, and Ryuko.

Not exactly the most inspiring group ever. But at least they had her. She at least was somewhat inspiring.

“So…” Rena Rogue broke the silence. “At the risk of sounding totally dumb… who is Master Fu again?”

“Wu,” Queen Bee corrected.

“Fu,” Bunnyx, Cat Noir, and Rena Rogue all said at once.

“Master Fu,” Bunnyx said, casting a glance at Queen Bee before looking back at Rena, “is the guardian of the miraculous.”

“Wait, I thought Ladybug kept the miraculouses,” Rena Rogue frowned.

“No, she didn’t,” Bunnyx replied. She glanced over at the cluster of circles; they were holding steady, for now, but she hated wasting time that could end in them being cut off from more parts of time. “Under normal circumstances, I would not tell any of you anything about the future. But…” She walked over to the cluster. “This is where the future used to be. Master Fu went in it, but I have no idea if there even is another side that he could exit out of. I usually can see the future, but now…”

“Just white?” Pegasus observed, adjusting a bag he had over his shoulder. There had been no time for him to drop it off when Bunnyx grabbed him, and now Bunnyx had to hope that no one would recognize the bag as belonging to Max Kanté.

Bunnyx nodded, turning back toward the group of heroes staring at her. “It’s spreading. I don’t know what it is, but eventually, it’ll hit your current time period as well.”

“So… the world is ending?” Nino asked.

Bunnyx gave a short nod. “Essentially.”

“Wow,” Viperion blinked.

Rena Rogue gave a small fist pump. “Add that to the list of things we get to defeat!”

“Why is he here?” Queen Bee complained, pointing at Nino.

“Now’s not the time to celebrate, Rena,” Bunnyx said, simultaneously shooting her a withering look and ignoring Queen Bee’s question. She’d been hoping none of the other heroes would notice that Nino was there, which would obviously make him a holder - and, based on the fact that only Carapace was missing, it would be easy to conclude that he was Carapace.

The only reason she’d brought him in - even though he was in his civilian form - was because he was a holder. But as long as Master Fu was in the future, Bunnyx wasn’t going to try diving around in the past to find the turtle miraculous when her burrow could potentially lock her out.

“I brought Mini-bug here,” Bunnyx explained, jerking a thumb at the white circles. “I needed her help to try and save the future, but she wasn’t able to.”

“Wait. You mean she went into the white?” Cat Noir bristled, the hair on his head practically standing on end. “By herself? Why didn’t you grab me?! I’m her partner!”

“Because she was saving the future from you.” Bunnyx folded her arms across her chest. “And it wasn’t even white, yet.”

“Is that supposed to make this better?” Cat Noir glared.

“It was a more stable situation at the time,” Bunnyx snapped. Her nerves were frayed. She’d been trying to save the world from a teenager who had enough power to destroy everyone and mess with her own miraculous’s powers, and she was either alone, worrying about someone else who had stepped up to help, or else babysitting. She was too far gone to let some little version of Cat Noir snap at her without retaliation. “You found out her identity, Cat Noir. That action was the source of a chain reaction that resulted in Hawkmoth discovering your identity because you transformed out in the open to save Mini-bug as a civilian, Hawkmoth akumatizing you…” She glared fiercely at him. “…and you destroying the world.”

All the heroes stared at her, and Bunnyx realized a little too late that she may have come across too strongly on the point that it was somehow all Cat Noir’s fault.

Ugh. She’d leapt before she looked. She did that quite a bit.

“Come again?” Viperion finally said.

“I destroy the world?” Cat Noir whispered, twisting his ring.

“Did they date?” Rena Rogue and Nino chorused.

“That is completely irrelevant,” Bunnyx attempted to wave it off.

“So, yes, then?” Rena Rogue noted hopefully.

“Wait, what?” Cat Noir froze. “I-I mean… she would never… we… there’s someone else… I mean, I d-destroy the world?” He froze, panic, confusion, and a strange balking mixing in his expression. “What?”

“Priorities, Cat Noir,” Bunnyx chided - forcing herself to make her voice a little more gentle this time. She needed to keep this conversation on track, and these teenagers were making that very difficult. “Yes, you destroyed the world. That’s what I was trying to fix when I brought Mini-bug here. It was her fault that you found out her identity.” She shot Cat Noir an apologetic look. “It wasn’t all your fault. But because she was the source of that action, I needed her to fix it. If you stepped in, you might end up remembering it, anyway, and I had to change that.”

“Why is it so important that they do not know one another’s identities?”

Everyone looked up.

Ryuko was standing at one of the still-clear circles, watching the footage play out.

“Hey, that’s the future!” Bunnyx yelped. “You’re not allowed to see that!”

“We’re trying to change this,” Ryuko replied, not even glancing away. “It won’t be here when we’re done.”

“Well… I guess,” Bunnyx grumbled grumpily.

“There is an incredible level of teamwork displayed between Cat Noir and Ladybug here,” Ryuko observed. “Knowing her identity seems to only have made them stronger. If only one having been revealed does that…”

“Well, I mean, he transformed out in the open to save her,” Bunny reminded Ryuko. “She knew his after that.”

“They have skill,” Ryuko insisted. “Knowing their identities only made them stronger - maybe strong enough to defeat HawkMoth. I don’t see how this is a negative thing.”

“It’s Master Fu’s rules,” Cat Noir said quietly. “If anyone knew our identities, that could put them at risk.”

“Aren’t you both already at risk by being heroes?” Viperion pointed out. “Heck, aren’t all of us?”

“Now is not the time for an existential crisis,” Bunnyx shook her head.

“I’m not sure that means what you think it means,” Queen Bee began, but Bunnyx shot her a look.

“Not now, Queenie.”

“Only Cat Noir gets to call me that.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s the only one who doesn’t say it like it’s an insult.”

Bunnyx paused, then let out a huff. “Fair enough. But Cat Noir and Ladybug aren’t allowed to know each other’s identities because, simply put, once they did, the world was destroyed. Which was HawkMoth’s fault, by the way. Not Cat Noir’s.”

“He really destroyed the whole world?” King Monkey shot a look of admiration at Cat Noir, which Bunnyx felt may have been the wrong response to the situation.

“Yeah, he did, and Mini-bug was supposed to purify his akuma,” Bunnyx said. Trying to keep the conversation on track, take two. “You were called Chat Blanc, Cat Noir. But you were incredibly strong - stronger than any of the akumas currently in your time of Paris. She lost to you.”

“Why couldn’t Ladybug have brought one of us with her?” Queen Bee asked, studying her nails. “I mean, obviously we aren’t Cat Noir, so obviously we could have been involved.”

“Yeah, if he wasn’t literally yelling her civilian name during their fight,” Bunnyx rolled her eyes. “Stay focused! Mini-bug tried to fight him, lost, and then…” She rapped the center white circle with her knuckles. It gave where she touched it, but sprung back easily, as if it were a truly physical mass. “The future disappeared.”

“You can’t access it at all?” Pegasus checked.

“I haven’t gone through,” Bunnyx shook her head, “but Master Fu managed to step through earlier. You can at least enter it, if not exit.”

“What do you mean, if not exit?” Cat Noir stared. “Did you send the guardian in to that when we might never get him back?”

“I don’t know!” Bunnyx rubbed her eyes roughly with the heel of her palm. “It was his idea! I don’t know if there’s anything left.  Maybe something. Maybe nothing. Maybe Mini-bug. But I can’t see anything, which is the whole problem!”

“So… we need to find a way through?” Nino surmised.

Bunnyx strode to the other side of her burrow to the white circle that had cropped up earlier. “The fact that the future is no longer accessible is starting to affect the past. It’s disappearing as well, for some reason. Once these go white, I can’t access them. I can’t see through them, and I don’t know if anything is even past them. So, yes, we need to find a way through.” She met the eyes of the heroes. “To save all time.”

“To… save the world?” Rena Rogue casually checked, sounding a little too hopeful on that point.

Bunnyx sighed. “Yes, Rena, to save the world.”

Rena Rogue gave a small celebratory fist pump.

Pegasus raised a hand. “I have an idea.”

“All ideas are welcome,” Bunnyx nodded.

“I have one,” Queen Bee said.

“Except your’s,” Bunnyx amended. “You were saying, Pegasus?”

“I have a robot with me,” Pegasus explained. “I built him myself. If I sent him in, we might be able to see what’s in there through him.”

“That… might work,” Bunnyx said slowly, hope fluttering in her chest. She wouldn’t trust just anyone with a mission of this importance - especially a robot built by a teenager - but Pegasus was Max; that meant he was probably referring to Markov. For a robot, Markov was pretty sentient, proven by the fact that he’d once been akumatized.

Not to mention, Max himself was pretty smart. Not as smart as Bunnyx, of course, but smart.

Bunnyx gave a determined nod. “Pegasus, send him in.”

Pegasus joined her at the circles. “It is the center one, correct? I assume that the white is spreading out in a ripple effect from it, but I want to make sure I’m not sending my friend into the wrong one.”

“Friend?” Queen Bee snorted. “It’s a robot. You sound exactly like one of the idiots I know.”

“How many idiots do you know?” Viperion glanced at her.

“Too many,” Queen Bee sniffed.

“Yes, it’s the center one,” Bunnyx confirmed.

“Why are you carrying a robot around with you, dude?” Nino asked curiously. “Paris has been going crazy; not exactly the best time to be dragging a robot around.”

“I was heading to the next evacuation,” Pegasus said distractedly as he dug into his bag. “I was bringing him with me.”

Queen Bee frowned - and Bunnyx realized a beat too late that Chloe probably had decided who to send out next herself; she might be able to figure out who Pegasus was.

And then Pegasus pulled Markov out of his bag, and Bunnyx realized a beat that was very much too late that the majority of the heroes here were very familiar with Markov.

Everyone stared at the robot as Pegasus whispered instructions to him. Ryuko and Viperion were the only ones who still seemed somewhat calm - they didn’t know Markov, and therefore couldn’t make the connection to Max. Cat Noir also seemed unaffected, seeing as he’d been there when Ladybug gave Max the horse miraculous.

But, as for everyone else…

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Queen Bee muttered.

Ah, yes, Chloe was just as annoying as Bunnyx remembered.

Unaware of how he’d just exposed his secret identity to almost every hero present, Pegasus turned on his phone and began tapping on it quickly, fingers flying across the screen.

“What are you doing?” Cat Noir asked. His voice was weary. Bunnyx felt a small stab of guilt at pegging the problem on his future self so hard; the poor guy had been singlehandedly attempting to take on all the akumas in Paris by himself.

“When I made Ma- erm, my robot, that is, I also created an app where I can link up to him. If I turn it on and send him through, we should be able to see what is going on inside, hypothetically speaking.” Pegasus punched a few commands into his phone, quietly gave several more instructions to Markov, then stepped back.

The little robot flew straight into the white circle, disappearing.

Pegasus sucked in a sharp breath.

“What is it?” Bunnyx demanded, by his side in an instant, peering at his phone. “Where’s the feed? It’s just white.”

“I’ve… I’ve lost all connection with him,” Pegasus said, his voice faltering.

The heroes fell silent.

Bunnyx began tapping her umbrella against her thigh again. Pegasus - Max - wouldn’t take this loss lightly, but she couldn’t help but be more worried about Master Fu than Markov.

What did it all mean? Was the white just interfering with the connection? Or was there no other side for Markov to even get through?

If the was the case…

That meant Bunnyx really had sent the guardian of the miraculous to his doom.

That meant they’d never get Mini-bug back.

And that meant they’d never be able to fix this.

“That’s not good,” Bunnyx finally rasped, the silence too oppressing.

“What can we do if we can’t retrieve any intel?” Rena Rogue asked, rolling her flute between her hands nervously. “We need to know the facts before we can draw any conclusions.”

“There has to be some way we can check on this dude - uh, Master Fu, I mean,” Nino said.

“For goodness sake, why is he here?” Queen Bee demanded to know yet again.

“It’s not important-” Bunnyx tried to glaze over Nino’s presence once again, but Pegasus was already talking.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Pegasus said distractedly, fingers flying across his phone as he attempted to re-establish a connection with Markov. “He’s the hero Carapace. Master Fu must have taken the turtle miraculous with him, or else Bunnyx would have given it to Nino.”

“Pegasus!” Bunnyx hissed, resisting the sudden and strong urge to smack him upside the head with her umbrella. “Identities are supposed to remain a secret!”

Pegasus paused only long enough to glance up, a look only slightly guilty playing across his face. “Oh. Sorry. I thought that it was so obvious that everyone else knew as well.”

“No need to insult their intelligence,” Bunnyx reprimanded, though she couldn’t bring herself to be too mad about the jab. These mini versions of the heroes were pretty slow on the uptake, sometimes. And she couldn’t really blame Max for it; she herself had already done more than her fair share of jabs. Nerves were frayed, and everyone was on edge.

“Should we send someone in?” King Monkey asked, scratching his head. “I mean, that Food guy-“

“Fu,” Bunnyx corrected.

“Fu,” King Monkey continued, “is in there. But we can’t see him. If one of us could reach him, then we’d be able to help him find Ladybug faster so we can fix this whole mess.”

“We don’t even know if he got through,” Viperion shook his head, folding his arms across his chest. “For all we know he might be…” He paused, glancing somewhat guiltily over at Bunnyx.

Bunnyx’s chest tightened. She knew exactly where Viperion had been going with that.

For a moment, they were all silent.

Then, from behind Bunnyx, someone said, “I’ll go.”

-

Everything about this was ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous.

Chloe had only just begun initiating another group of evacuations when this bunny hero had burst out of a glowing white hole in the middle of the air, shoved the bee miraculous at her, and ordered her to follow.

Chloe had done so. She was Queen Bee, after all, a hero. She’d done her best for the past 3 weeks, despite not having a miraculous, settling for trying to help her utterly helpless father. He wasn’t good at dealing with a crisis.

They’d been in the middle of a particularly tense evacuation - a building had literally just fallen over, and no one had eyes on Cat Noir - but Chloe had followed the bunny hero into the glowing hole anyway. She’d been hoping they would be getting Ladybug from wherever she was, and that she’d be able to fix everything.

But here, no one seemed to have a plan! It was chaos, utter chaos. Even Chloe had been able to develop one in an unprecedented crisis, okay? It wasn’t that hard. Unless you were an idiot. In which case, it might be somewhat challenging.

“Should we send someone in?” the monkey hero was asking.

Queen Bee pursed her lips. She’d already tried to give them a plan to work with, but Bunnyx had rejected her idea before she’d even heard it.

Rude.

But…

These fools need a lot of help, Queen Bee observed, and a queen must step up.

It had become her mantra during the past couple of weeks. Because of it, she’d found that she made a great leader under pressure, and that she was clearly the only one in Paris that had any sense whatsoever. Besides Cat Noir, of course. He was the reason anything had even gone through; he’d backed her up when she’d tried to help at first, and apparently the word of a superhero carried a lot of weight.

But, besides him, no one else in this… whatever it was called… burrow? Tunnel? Yeah, whatever. Close enough. Everyone else in this tunnel was stupid. First off, that Pegasus guy was obviously Max, and he’d been dumb enough to reveal very incriminating evidence about his identity to all of them. She’d recognize that robot anywhere; it was so annoying. And Nino? He’d always been such a pain; she couldn’t imagine him as a hero. The only person Ladybug had chosen that showed she had any good taste was Chloe herself - and Chloe hadn’t been exactly chosen.

“We don’t even know if he got through,” the hot green guy shook his head, folding his arms across his chest. “For all we know he might be…” He paused, glancing somewhat guiltily over at Bunnyx.

Dead, Queen Bee mentally filled in.

For a moment, they were all silent.

Now was a good a time as any to propose her plan without any interruptions; hopefully Cat Noir would be willing to back her up again.

Queen Bee straightened. “I’ll go.”

Everyone turned to stare at her.

“What?” Queen Bee demanded. “I tried to tell you it like, five minutes ago! Someone has to go in, and I’m obviously the best choice.”

“What makes you say that?” Rena Rogue retorted.

“I trust her,” Cat Noir interrupted. “I’ve been working with Chloe for the past couple weeks to help Paris; she’s really good at planning things and acting like she belongs when she doesn’t.”

Queen Bee glared at him; it was exactly the backup she’d been hoping for. “That was both compliment and insult, and I don’t appreciate that.”

“I’d prefer if we could just send you, Cat Noir,” Bunnyx sighed, “seeing as you already know Ladybug’s identity.”

“He WHAT now?” Queen Bee demanded. “Ladybug and I are besties! I should have been the first to know!”

Cat Noir seemed to draw in on himself. “I… only found out on accident,” he mumbled. “She didn’t know that I knew - and then she disappeared.” He glanced up. “Or, I guess she was brought here by Bunnyx, and then got trapped in the future.”

Oh, so he playing the blame-game now, was he? Queen Bee didn’t blame him, though; Bunnyx had been extremely rude earlier to him about it when Bunnyx had been the one to bring Ladybug through.

“If the future still exists through that white,” Bunnyx was saying to Cat Noir, “then your future self will likely still be there. You’re my first choice for who I’d send in, but we can’t risk that; if you ever met your future self, it would be too obvious that you don’t belong there.”

“I’m sure I could blend in,” Queen Bee declared, trying to get the conversation back to the topic of her plan. “Let me go. Besides,” she added, “I’m probably the most expendable, seeing as Hawkmoth already knows my identity.”

Everyone stared at her. “Wow, Chloe,” Rena Rogue finally said. “That was almost selfless.”

“You’re not expendable,” Cat Noir said gently, laying a hand on her shoulder. “And we’re not even up against Hawkmoth, here.”

“If Queen Bee goes, she needs to know what Ladybug’s identity is,” Bunnyx warned.

“I can keep a secret,” Chloe reassured Bunnyx. “You have no idea how many government ones I already know.”

“Before we tell you,” Cat Noir interjected, “you have to promise me that knowing her identity as a civilian won’t compromise your loyalty to her. We have to be 100% committed if we’re going to beat… whatever this is. You can’t do anything to undermine her.”

Queen Bee shot him a quizzical look. “Why would I do that to Lady-bae?”

Bunnyx began tapping her umbrella against her leg - something she seemed to do a lot of. “Because you already know her.”

“Should all of us know it?” Ryuko asked. “We might need that information, but if it’s best to keep her identity a secret…”

“I’ll tell Chloe,” Cat Noir offered quietly. “I’ll just… I don’t know. Tell her on the other side of the burrow.”

“It’s not that wide,” Bunnyx pointed out, seeming agitated.

“Then plug your ears,” Cat Noir said drily, taking Queen Bee by the elbow and leading her away to the other side.

“Okay,” Queen Bee said, turning to face Cat Noir head on as soon as they were as far as they could go, “who is she?”

Cat Noir lowered his voice, saying quietly, “She’s… Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

Queen Bee blinked. Then blinked again. “All right.”

“All right?” Cat Noir repeated. “Don’t you two have like, a feud or something?”

“Please,” Queen Bee rolled her eyes, “I may be rude sometimes, but the only reason I targeted Dupain-Cheng was because I had to assert dominance. She’s always been my biggest rival because she posed the biggest threat.” She began to count off on her fingers. “She’s class rep, has designed things that have impressed Gabriel Agreste, and every boy in the school probably has had a crush on her at some point. I suppose it only makes sense that she’s Ladybug.”

A small flicker of amusement went through Cat Noir’s eyes. “Does that still mean that you’ll refer to her as Lady-bae-“

“Don’t push it, kitty cat,” Queen Bee interrupted.

Cat Noir just shrugged. “It’s a valid question.”

“I think you and I have very different ideas of what a valid question is.”

“Are you sure you want to go through?” Cat Noir asked, his smile fading. “We need to find her, but we don’t know what’s beyond that circle.”

The unspoken words of if there’s even anything beyond it hung in the air.

“Enough dramatics,” Queen Bee grumbled, trying to put up her uncaring facade again after having just opened up. She hated feelings. They were so icky and… feely. “Just let me go already.”

Together, they walked over to the others again.

“Ready?” Bunnyx asked, eyeing Queen Bee.

“I always was ready, “ Queen Bee sniffed. “If you had let me talk-”

“Try to find anything you can on Fu,” Bunnyx interrupted. “If he’s in there, we want to know where.”

Queen Bee rolled her eyes, sarcastically saying, “Copy that.”

Without waiting for a reply, Queen Bee strode over to the circles and stepping through the one she’d seen Markov go through.

Everything went white. For a moment, nothing happened.

And then suddenly tingles fizzed all over Queen Bee’s body, as if the white was attempting to push her back.

What was this stuff?

Despite how strange it was, though, Queen Bee wasn’t deterred in the least. She knew that there were only three things that could match her in stubbornness: her mother, Adrikins, and Marinette. This white stuff stood no chance.

Queen Bee pushed back - though pushed back was a strange way to describe it. She couldn’t really see anything. It was like a battle of wills, and they were fencing it out the way Adrikins liked to in competitions.

And, just like her Adrikins, she was going to win.

But for several moments, nothing happened.

An inkling of doubt trickled into Queen Bee’s mind. What if she was wrong? What if it wasn’t a battle of wills? What if she was going to be stuck here forever?

With the sudden strength of desperation behind her, Queen Bee threw her will against the white, grappling with it, and-

Without warning, she stumbled into daylight.

At least, she was pretty sure it was daylight.

Chloe stood there, blinking, trying to get her eyes to adjust. But the sight before her would not go away.

It was… Paris. Sort of. People were walking up and down the sidewalks, paying no attention to her whatsoever. That alone was odd, seeing as she was Chloe Bourgeois, daughter of the mayor.

However, unlike the Paris she had left just minutes before, this one was completely intact. There was no sign of destruction anywhere.

But there was something much, much more wrong with it.

Everything was black and white. And there was an odd net pattern across all of it.

Had the white stuff taken away her ability to see colour?

Buzzzzzzz.

Chloe took a fighting stance instantly, ready to venom her way out of whatever threat there might be.

Yet no threat came into sight.

After a beat, a bee flew in front of her, still buzzing.

But it was yellow.

Colour.

Chloe relaxed her stance only slightly, twisting her head to look about. There were bees, all of them yellow, floating about her head. They were all humming slightly.

What were they doing here?

Chloe made to shoo them off - but upon lifting up her arm, she froze.

“What am I wearing?!” she whisper-shrieked.

Her sleeve alone was hideous. Upon looking down, though, things got even worse: it was a full-body costume! At least, she assumed it was a costume; there was no other explanation for it.

Chloe reached quickly up to her head, trying to check on her hair - and her hands instantly bumped into something.

Was she wearing a helmet?

“Stay calm,” Chloe whispered, trying to not hyperventilate. This trip into the white was already much more panic-inducing than she’d expected. “A queen must step up.”

Right. She was a queen. She wouldn’t let a temporary costume stop her. At least, she hoped it was temporary.

Look on the bright side, she tried to assure herself. At least that explains the net pattern I’m seeing.

Looking on the bright side didn’t come very naturally do her.

But where had this monstrosity even come from? And, more importantly, where had her epic superhero suit gone?

“This is so wrong,” Chloe muttered, crossing her arms. She wanted to pout, to yell and scream at the black and white sky about how ridiculous, utterly ridiculous this was - but she had to find Ladybug. And the You guy.

But where did she even start?

What would Ladybug do? Chloe wondered. Ladybug - ugh, Marinette, too - always seemed to know exactly what to do in every situation. If Chloe had to choose one person to emulate… it might as well be her.

She would take stock of the situation, Chloe decided, then develop a plan of attack.

Chloe was halfway hoping that her plan of attack would somehow have a very necessary step in it of removing her ugly suit, but she started by taking stock of the surrounding area.

Okay. She had made it through the white. Or forced her way past it. Whatever.

She hadn’t seen the Wu guy inside of the white - not that she could even see much in there, it had been so bright - so she could probably assume he’d also made it through. That would mean that both of them were now here to search for Ladybug - Marinette - at the same time.

Right. Searching. She had to search.

So… Chloe would try and find Lady- Marinette. She would try and find Marinette.

Knowing Ladybug’s identity was going to take a little getting used to.

But Paris needed Ladybug back. Chloe was prepared to set aside any bad blood between her and Dupain-Cheng, as well as her intense loathing for her new… outfit in order to find her and set things right.

First things first: where did she even begin? Paris was huge.

Maybe someone has seen her? Chloe wondering, glancing around. Surely they’d remember seeing Ladybug - but that only works if Dupain-Cheng has transformed during her time here to fight akumas.

Ugh. She doubted that Marinette could bring herself to be that helpful.

But if she was also Ladybug, the smartest person Chloe knew, then maybe she could-

Quiet! Chloe ordered herself; she didn’t have time for internal debates. If this is the future, then I could try and find someone that Marinette might be with. Like me; I’m famous. Or Cat Noir. Chat Blanc. Whatever.

But did she dare ask for help to find someone who had destroyed the whole future?

More importantly… did she really want to deign to ask for help?

Ugh. The thought alone was horrid and slimy. Chloe didn’t ask for help; if she needed someone to do something for her, she just ordered them to do it. That’s how friendship worked! And being the daughter of the mayor!

Chloe let out a peeved sigh, then began taking a closer look at passers by; she might as well peg down someone who looked weak.

But the more she looked at them, the more uncomfortable Chloe became. It wasn’t just the fact that she wasn’t sure whether she even wanted to ask someone for help, or that all these people were black-and-white; it was the expressions people were wearing. Everyone looked… happy. Or at least not sad. But also not truly happy. Like they were glad to be there but were dead inside.

It was disconcerting.

Chloe gave up on the idea of asking someone for help; she’d just rely on herself for this job.

It might be a little tricky, though; there weren’t any signs anywhere that could help lead her to where Ladybug might be. There was no destruction, no akumas, and no Chat Blanc. Everything appeared to be, well… perfect.

But there was something very off about this place. No one was noticing her, or freaking out that everything was black and white.

Or over her. She was standing in the middle of the road, surrounded by bees, but no one had given her a second look.

Chloe waved a wayward bee out of her face that was obstructing her view. She cast an annoyed look at them; where had they even come from? And why were they still hanging out around her? She was Queen Bee, but still-

Wait.

Bees.

This place must be affecting my miraculous, she realized, staring at the bees. I hope that’s not Pollen. Changing outfits was bad enough; she couldn’t imagine being split up into multiple tiny hers. Though the rest of the world would probably love having more than one Chloe.

So… essentially, she couldn’t trust anyone because they all seemed to be stupid, she had no idea where Fu was, meaning she was alone, and she didn’t even know where she currently was or where Dupain-Cheng lived in just normal-Paris, much less this one.

Really, she was alone in the big city with no way to know where to go.

Letting out an annoyed sigh, Chloe began walking along the streets at a brisk pace. Maybe she’d get lucky and just bump into Dupain-Cheng.

And then she couldn’t help but snort at the thought of considering bumping into Marinette lucky.

Chloe quickly began noticing more differences as she made her way down the streets, choosing her path at random. For one, not only was she dressed differently, but so was everyone else. They were wearing a totally different style entirely, as if they had walked straight out of a 1960s movie. Dupain-Cheng wasn’t the only one who knew fashion; Chloe had grown up around fashion moguls. Her mother had practically invented fashion itself. If Chloe couldn’t tell what time period a piece was from, then someone would have been seriously wrong with her. More than she already was by wearing this horrible outfit, of course.

Chloe went up and down sidewalks, peering into stores and houses, unable to recognize anything she was passing by. At first, it was somewhat interesting.

But after a while, it became stiflingly hot in her suit, and her feet began to ache.

Where was a limousine when you needed one?

The sun reached its peak, hovering in a black and white haze above Chloe. She was sweltering in her suit, but didn’t dare try to take it off; there was something very right about it in a very wrong way, as if she couldn’t remove it even if she tried.

She hated how everything here was right and wrong; it wasn’t… right. Or wrong, either. But certainly not right!

UGH.

Several hours in, Chloe was more lost than ever, her feet were blistering, and the sun was starting to go down. At one point, she thought she heard cheering - something about children? - but ignored it. Marinette wasn’t a child - well, not technically speaking. Emotionally, Chloe had always considered her as vulnerable as a toddler, and even easier to read and manipulate.

Unlike these street signs. Chloe’s eyes hurt from seeing just black and white all day, and with the light lessening, it was becoming even more difficult to read anything.

Grumbling, Chloe took to just walking in the middle of the road so she could check out both sides of the street more easily. It turned out to be a bad idea, however; before long, in the dark, her foot caught on something and sent her crashing to the ground.

“Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous!” Chloe hissed, twisting to see what she’d tripped on. It was just a pot hole covering. She kicked it back into place before standing, brushing herself off.

The sound of a door opening rang out across the street - but Chloe would have ignored it completely and moved on had it not been for a very familiar voice saying, “Be careful.”

Chloe’s pulse instantly kicked up a notch. Was that who she thought it was?

As if feeling her quickening pulse for her, the bees around Chloe began to buzz in earnest, fluttering around her head. “Hush!” Chloe ordered, trying to peer into the darkness toward where the words had come from. She twisted her head from left to right, not wanting to miss anything.

“What’s that?” the same voice gasped - yes, that was definitely Marinette. But… at the same time, Chloe could now also hear how she also was definitely Ladybug. How had she not noticed that before?

Where is she? Chloe thought in frustration, peering into the darkness.

But then, as she twisted her head again, she came to a stop.

There.

Marinette was staring at her, eyes wide. Her hand was clutching the shoulder of the person standing beside her.

And then Chloe noticed who the other person was.

His hair was the same blond that it had been when they were kids, and his physique was unmistakable; even the way he stood at attention. Yet… it seemed almost looser than normal, as if he were more relaxed around Marinette.

Adrien Agreste. Chloe’s childhood best friend.

But what arrested her attention the most were his eyes.

They weren’t green.

Instead, they were a bright, icy blue that showed up like a shock of lightning in the dark.

And he was looking straight. at. her.

“No,” he whispered. The word practically rumbled in the air; there was an innate feeling of power behind it. Chloe had grown up around politicians; she could have recognized it from a mile away, but in this case, it actually was like a physical presence backing it up - as if his word were the wind in front of a tsunami that rose up only a few moments behind it, towering above everything, ready to destroy everything in its path.

Adrien closed his fist, fingers curling in on themselves. There was a distinct clink and then-

-

“Pegasus, status update?” Rena Rogue asked, glancing over at the superhero that was obviously Max Kanté. Bunnyx had asked him to start looking at the holes in her burrow; Bunnyx might be the holder of the miraculous, but Max was still a genius.

“Nothing yet,” Pegasus reported. “If I had Ma- I mean, my robot here, then he might be able to help me…”

Rena winced; Max was not taking the loss of Markov lightly, yet was stoically attempting to not mention the robot too much. He had no idea that she already had figured out his identity.

“Actually…”

Rena looked up along with everyone else.

Pegasus was staring at the white circles, rubbing his chin, deep in thought. “It pushes back when I try to place my hand against it. This circle is unlike the one that I entered by. It’s as if it’s a solid mass.” He reached up, adjusting his sunglasses, the same way Max usually would adjust his glasses while thinking. “Newton’s third law of motion states that for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. But… what if we could somehow bypass the wall that we are acting on?”

“Excuse me?” Bunnyx stared.

But Rena was catching on. “Like… through one of your portals?”

“Precisely,” Pegasus nodded. “However, it would need some way to link up to the circle itself; I doubt I could create a portal through time. My miraculous is not intended to work in such a fashion.”

“Whoah, everyone hold up,” Viperion held up his hands. “I only caught about half of that, but we can’t go in there!”

“Why not?” Pegasus and Rena asked in unison.

“First off, Fu and Chloe both already went in,” Viperion counted off the reasons on his fingers. “They haven’t come back. We have no idea if they even made it through in the first place. And, if they did, they’re undercover. Even if we could find an easier way to get through, by going in, we’d be blowing their cover.”

“By that logic, Chloe going in blew Fu’s,” Rena pointed out, crossing her arms.

“If we could just see what’s going on, that would help everything!” Bunnyx growled in frustration. “We need to know if they made it through or not!”

“And where they are now if they did,” Ryuko murmured in agreement.

Rena looked down at her flute and suddenly smirked. “I have an idea.”

-

“Are you sure about this?” Bunnyx checked one final time. “Giving me your miraculouses will reveal your identity to everyone present. That could endanger those you love if Hawkmoth-”

“Yeah, well, I don’t see Hawkmoth present,” Rena Rogue waved her hand dismissively. “Besides, who cares about him right now? We’re up against Cat Noir - or Chat Blanc - and, honestly, I’d be way more scared of getting in a fight with him than Hawkmoth. Besides,” she added, “all cards on the table, right? We’re your hand, and you’re playing us to your best tactical advantage.”

Bunnyx chewed her lip. Rena was right - she always had been logical that way. “Okay,” she finally relented - though she couldn’t deny a part of her was relieved. Rena’s idea was a good one, and Bunnyx was desperate to try and get eyes on the future. “You may remove your miraculouses.”

There was silence as Pegasus and Rena Rogue faced one another. It felt like a solemn moment; a last second of anonymity before being thrown into the spotlight.

They both took in a deep breath. There was a bright flash of light as both of them detransformed.

And then Alya Cesaire and Max Kanté were standing there instead.

“Wait, Alya?” Cat Noir gaped.

“Do you two know one another?” Max asked, glancing between them.

“Well, I mean,” Cat Noir stumbled over his words, “she’s the Ladyblogger. And I’ve saved her several times.”

Bunnyx could have facepalmed herself at the clumsy save.

“Here you go, Bunnyx,” Alya said as she and Max handed over their miraculouses to her.

Bunnyx slipped the sunglasses and the necklace on. The horse and fox kwamis instantly appeared in front of her. Bunnyx pulled out carrots, quickly feeding the tired kwamis. “You guys up for round two?”

Kaalki looked at her curiously. “Are you glorious and famous?”

Bunnyx gave her a look.

“Glorious,” Kaalki decided, popping the rest of the carrot in her mouth. “I’m ready!”

“Fluff, Kaalki, Trixx, unify!” Bunnyx declared.

It was a risky idea to act on. The more miraculouses a holder wore, the more dangerous it was for them - much less one being the miraculous of time.

But she was strong; Bunnyx didn’t doubt that she could handle it. After all, if Mini-bug could wear all of them, then this should be a cinch.

There was a burst of light, and a moment later, she stood in her new form. A wave of dizziness crashed over her, and for a breathless moment, Bunnyx thought she was about to faint. She stumbled, leaning heavily on Alya and Max for support.

“You good?” Alya grunted.

“Just peachy,” Bunnyx mumbled, the dizziness slowly fading. She took in a deep breath, steadying herself, then pushed up. “All right. Let’s do this.”

“What should we call you now?” Alya asked, trotting beside her as Bunnyx strode over to the white circles, the rest of the heroes tailing them. “If I ever get to talk about this on my blog, I need a name.”

“There’s no time to decide,” Bunnyx replied. “Just continue calling me Bunnyx.” She stopped before the white circles. “I hope your idea works.”

Everyone leaned closer, watching intently.

Bunnyx took her umbrella, sliding the flute along up it and lodging it in place with the horseshoe. Then, slowly, she began sliding it into the white circle.

For several tense seconds, she felt the whiteness push back, as if it were a truly physical force.

Gritting her teeth and sending up a prayer that this would work, Bunnyx said, “Burrow, Voyage, Mirage!”

It was probably the longest shot of shots that she’d ever attempted. Reaching through time, bypassing a force keeping them locked out, and…

The white circle flickered.

Bunnyx caught her breath. Had the mirage really reached through?

The other heroes gathered around, peering at the white, crackling… whatever it was. It honestly reminded Bunnyx a little of an old TV.

And then, the static cleared up, leaving them with a black and white image instead.

{Audience laughs}

Bunnyx jumped at the sound, almost losing her grip on her umbrella. “Holy hopping dust bunnies! What is that?”

“So… because we’re doing this dinner for us… you thought we should make the whole thing?”

“That can’t be right,” Alya squinted, leaning in a little closer. “That’s Adrien Agreste. Chat Blanc is nowhere in sight.”

“Basically.”

“And that’s Marinette,” Max pointed. “What is she doing here?”

“Hands off, dude; I can’t see!” Nino complained.

“Quiet!” Bunnyx ordered, her voice strained. They were finally able to see through, and these teenagers were yelling over it!

“Have you at all considered the fact that you usually bake, and I don’t really cook?”

{Audience laughs}

At the sound of the canned laughter, Bunnyx flinched again. What was this, a movie from the 50’s?

“That’s why we have a recipe, Adrien. It’s the kind of thing people use when they’re cooking.”

{Audience laughs}

“What do you need help with?”

“Could you grab out the knives?”

“Planning a murder, my dear?”

{Audience laughs}

“What…?” Bunnyx breathed.

“What are we looking at?” Viperion asked. “What is this? Where’s it coming from?”

“Out there,” Bunnyx murmured, hoping that the answer would make these kids be quiet already. Her eyes were locked on the… well, for lack of a better word, she had to admit that it now looked almost like a screen.

“Now, we’re going to need some spices…”

“Is it authentic?” Alya frowned. “Is it happening in real time? Is it recorded, fabricated?”

Would these kids just be quiet already?

“I don’t know,” Bunnyx cast a glance at Alya, her voice tense. “We’re reaching through space and time. It could have reached some kind of alternate reality for all we know.”

“So you’re saying that the universe created a sitcom staring… a model and a fashion designer,” Viperion said drily.

“I’m not saying that! I’m just theorizing!” Bunnyx waved him off, trying to pay attention to the feed. Possible alternate reality or not, this was the first time she’d seen something through the circle since she’d sent Mini-bug in there.

The scene played out, Marinette panicking over how much they had left to do - and then suggested they use their miraculouses.

“Their… miraculouses?” King Monkey blinked.

Bunnyx thought fast. “Oh, Marinette once used the mouse miraculous against Kwami Buster, and Ladybug originally gave the snake miraculous to Adrien Agreste; they must be referring to those.”

“She gave it to Adrien first?” Viperion stared.

Cat Noir shifted a couple steps away from Viperion.

“Green is not a good colour on you, Viperion,” Bunnyx said. “I mean… jealousy. You’re already in green.” She let out a tense sigh. “Would you all please be quiet now? I’m trying to hear what’s going on.”

She was desperate to hear what was going on; Minibug would never suggest that they use their miraculouses for personal gain; never.

But, almost more concerning was the fact that she was acting as if Adrien had her miraculous. If Adrien was Cat Noir, and in this world had been akumatized into Chat Blanc, that could only spell trouble.

“What the heck?” Nino yelped in the back of the group as… well, as he walked in through the door. “That’s me!”

“Nino!” Marinette exclaimed, confirming the fact that it really was Nino Lahiffe there for them.

“What’s up?” Nino asked, smiling widely, showing all his teeth. “Do I smell chicken?”

“I don’t actually smile like that, right?” Nino whispered from behind Bunnyx to Alya.

Bunnyx shushed him.

The three did the dishes, and then Nino left - only to be quickly replaced by the Dupain-Chengs, and…

“That’s Emilie Agreste!” Alya gasped.

Cat Noir made a strangled sound in the back of his throat.

Adrien on the screen didn’t appear phased by her appearance, however. Instead, they all ate dinner today, and then Adrien and Emilie left.

And then… credits began rolling.

“Is this a TV show?” Ryuko frowned. “Did you access a channel by accident, Bunnyx?”

“No way,” Bunnyx shook her head desperately. “I… I couldn’t have.” Of course, she’d never tried doing what she’d done before, so she didn’t know that for a fact.

“What would a channel featuring us be named?” King Monkey pondered. “The Family Channel? Gloob? Zag?”

“Stop making stuff up, King Monkey,” Max chided. “Now is not the time.”

Now certainly wasn’t the time for anything these kids were talking about. Bunnyx needed to be able to think. Mini-bug appeared to be fine; it was as if she didn’t know anything was even wrong.

“Marinette seemed a little… off, don’t you think?” Nino frowned. “I’ve never seen her greet me like that before.”

“But she’s dating Adrien,” Alya pointed out. “That’s a pretty good thing, right?”

“Why would she want to date Adrien Agreste?” Cat Noir mumbled. He was standing in the back of the group, his arms folded tightly across his chest, as if distancing himself from the mess that his future self had caused.

“She’s had the biggest crush on him since the first day they met,” Alya shrugged. “After she gave him heck when she thought he’d stuck gum on her seat, of course. But that was just Chloe.”

Cat Noir jerked his head up and stared at her. “She liked… Adrien?”

“Yep,” Alya confirmed.

Cat Noir’s eyes practically dilated, and Bunnyx could just see him connecting the dots in his head. If Marinette is Ladybug… and Ladybug always told me that there was another boy… that other boy was Adrien Agreste… and if Adrien Agreste was me the whole time…

“Enough!” Bunnyx exclaimed. These teens got sidetracked way too easily. Though she was willing to forgive Cat Noir at least a little; this was all probably starting to get a little too overwhelming for him. Just not in entirely all the ways that the others thought.

The credits finished rolling, and Bunnyx stared at the screen for a few moments. That episode hadn’t revealed anything helpful; only more questions… and no sign of Fu.

That couldn’t be it… could it?

“Now what?” Nino finally asked.

As if in response, the screen flickered back to life.

For a moment, Bunnyx thought it was about to replay the same thing they’d just watched, the way her burrows would replay when she touched them.

But then a theme song began blaring.

And it was different.

“Is this a new… episode?” Alya stared.

Bunnyx squinted at it. The theme song was still in black and white, but looked less like it was from the 50’s and more like it was from the 60’s.

The new… well, like Alya had said, episode began to play. It appeared to be the middle of the night, and Emilie was telling Adrien that something was outside.

Bunnyx’s heart leapt; could it possibly be Master Fu?

“Chloe?” Viperion blinked. “That was fast.”

Obviously Bunnyx and Viperion had very different ideas as to who the more capable searcher was in there.

They watched Adrien head towards of the door of the apartment, moving to go check on something. He was doing something with his hands, but the camera angle only showed him from the back.

And then… he switched direction, heading for the window instead.

Bunnyx realized what he was about to do a second too late. “Wait-!”

Before she could order the other heroes to turn around, Adrien whispered, “Plagg, claws out.”

There was a flash of white, and a moment later, Chat Blanc opened up the window began climbing the outside wall.

Everybody froze, staring.

And then slowly turned to look at Cat Noir, who was still standing in the back of the group.

“Adrien?” Ryuko stared, looking the most shocked she had during this whole situation.

“Bro?” Nino gaped.

“You’re Chat Blanc?” Viperion asked.

Cat Noir winced. “Uh… hi?”

“Wait…” Nino clutched at his head. “So all those times you disappeared during attacks…? And wait, during the past 3 weeks, you’ve been fighting akumas on your own?!”

“Maybe?” Cat Noir said it like it was a question, as if there was still some way for him to plausibly deny it.

“Wait!” Alya exclaimed, her fingers twitching, as if she was resisting the strong urge to grab out her phone. “If you, Cat Noir, are Adrien, and that makes you Chat Blanc, and Ladybug is stuck in the future with future you, and this show is featuring Adrien and Marinette…”

The blood slowly drained from Bunnyx’s face as everyone fell silent, the obvious conclusion lying in plain sight. Bunnyx might not agree with Fu’s rules, but if there were two identities she had wanted to keep secret above all others, they were Mini-bug’s and Cat Noir’s.

“Marinette is Ladybug?” Alya choked when nobody contradicted her. “Like… for real?”

“You all weren’t supposed to know,” Bunnyx groaned. “I thought we could keep it secret…”

Tap. Tap. Tap tap tap.

Bunnyx gave the screen a cursory glance, unsure as to where her attention should even be focused any longer. Chat Blanc was still on the wall, and it was now revealed that it had only been a tree branch that had scared Emilie.

Still no sign of Fu, then.

“My best friend has been fighting akumas all school year?!” Alya looked like she was either about to have a panic attack or faint.

Bunnyx rallied herself; she needed to get control of this situation. “Everyone, calm down!”

The heroes instantly quieted down, looking at her with varying degrees of shock and panic displayed on their faces. It wasn’t exactly calm, but at least it was slightly more quiet.

Bunnyx decided to just grab the bull by the horns. “Yes, Cat Noir is Adrien Agreste, and Marinette is Mini-bug. I’m sorry, Cat Noir, I didn’t mean for them all to find out your identity.”

“It’s not your fault,” Cat Noir shook his head wearily.

“So in the future, Marinette is Ladybug… and she’s dating you… who is…” Alya’s brow was scrunched up, trying to put the pieces together in her mind.

“Chat Blanc,” Bunnyx finished, glancing at the screen as Chat Blanc made his way back along the wall to the window. “And Mini-bug seems to know that he is, yet isn’t concerned in the least. Which is extremely puzzling.”

“Is this a love triangle or square?” Alya asked.

“Square,” Nino supplied.

“Marinette would never willingly assist a villain,” Viperion shook his head, then cast an uncomfortable glance at Cat Noir. “No offence.”

“Do you know her?” Alya asked, casting a curious glance at the snake hero.

“And then end with a backflip going into the splits.”

They all turned back to the screen at the sound of Marinette’s voice. Bunnyx drew in a sharp breath, just as Chat Blanc did a backflip going into the splits.

Because Mini-bug was there on screen with him in her own superhero outfit.

“They seem a little tired,” Marinette was saying when Bunnyx finally got her brain to pay attention to what they were actually saying again. “Are you sure we should be using these for our routine?”

“Routine?” Max repeated, confusion obvious in his voce.

“It’s fine,” Adrien replied on screen. “Everyone will just think we’re wearing costumes of their favourite superheroes, Ladybug and Chat Blanc!”

And with that, the pieces finally began to click into place in Bunnyx’s head.

“Superheroes,” she whispered. “Mini-bug thinks that they’re both superheroes, the way she and Cat Noir are! But now…”

“It’s with Chat Blanc,” Cat Noir finished quietly from the back.

“She doesn’t realize that anything’s wrong,” Bunnyx nodded.

Marinette headed on out of the apartment, joining Emilie Agreste. They began heading down the street chatting about some committee meeting and Lila Rossi.

But as the pair of them went around a corner, the camera panned out and around them to get a better view of them from the other side - and that’s when Bunnyx saw him.

She gasped. “Master Fu!”

There he was: he was barely even in the shot, narrowly making it in at this new angle, shuffling along down the sidewalk behind Marinette and Emilie, as if heading in the same direction as them.

But it was him.

“Does he seem okay to you?” Cat Noir, leaning around King Monkey’s shoulder to see better. The monkey superhero leaned a little further to give him a better look; everyone seemed to understand that, while knowing Cat Noir’s identity was huge, they had to wait to truly process it until later.

“He doesn’t appear to be harmed in any way,” Bunny said, relieved, “but that’s definitely not the outfit that he went in there with. And those turtles! What’s up with that?”

“So, what, deep cover?” Alya suggested, her reporter gears clearly already turning. “Fu has to play along?”

“With whom?” Viperion shook his head. “Or else, what?” He frowned, studying the screen even as Marinette and Emilie continued talking. “What are we looking at here? Because things have obviously changed; is it an alternate reality? Just time travel?”

“For all we know, it could be a cockamamie social experiment,” Max pointed out.

“It’s a sitcom,” Bunnyx said. “A 1950s sitcom - or, at least, the first episode was. This one might be in the 60’s.”

“But why?” Viperion insisted.

“Hey, man, we’re working with the same scarcity of intel,” Bunnyx held up her free hand as if to shield herself. She glanced back at the screen. “But I think I’m starting to get an idea for something we can try.”

She finally had seen Fu. Just knowing that he was all right, that he had made it through, made Bunnyx feel as if a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders. New courage flooded through her.

If it was possible to get through the white that was overtaking her burrow, that meant…

They might actually be able to beat it.

The screen changed back to Adrien, who was heading out of the apartment.

“An idea? What is it?” Alya asked excitedly. “A way to break my best friend out from… whatever this is?”

“Not entirely,” Bunnyx shook her head. “More of… a way of possibly contacting Mini-bug and Adrien.”

“Both of them?” Viperion noted.

“Cut it out,” Bunnyx said cuttingly. “She liked Adrien who’s Cat Noir and is now with an akumatized version of him in the future. Get over it. And, yes, both of them. We don’t know exactly what happened, but it was centered on Mini-bug and Chat Blanc. They’re both good options to try and contact.”

“Markov!” Max suddenly yelled, surging forward.

Everybody whipped their heads about to look back again.

On screen, Adrien was holding… something. It was an odd ball of sorts, a bright blue oval decorating the front of it and a cone attached to the bottom sticking out form it. It was the first sign of colour they’d seen so far.

“That looks like a retro version of my robot,” Max said, practically blocking the entire screen with how closely he was leaning in.

“But how did it change, and why?” Ryuko said as Bunnyx pulled Max back.

“Uh… to go with production design?” Nino suggested. He’d directed stuff before, so he would probably knew about those sort of things.

But Bunnyx found she didn’t entirely agree with that theory.

“Or render it useless,” she murmured, watching Adrien study it.

“Why’d you colourize it?” Alya asked. “How did you even do that?”

“I didn’t.” Bunnyx shook her head.

Adrien turned, marching back to the apartment and closing the door behind him. When he emerged again, only moments later, Markov was gone.

“Where did he go?!” Max exclaimed, his voice panicked, and rushed at the screen.

“Don’t touch it!” Bunnyx yelled, letting go of her umbrella to tackle Max. She landed hard, and grunted. “If we interfere with the feed we have coming through, we might never be able to get it again!”

“But Markov…!” Max struggled weakly beneath her strong grip.

“Calm down, Max,” Bunnyx ordered. She began to raise herself off of him, still using her hands to keep him pinned down in case he tried anything again. “Adrien may have just hidden him somewhere; he was colourized, after all. That would have made him stand out.”

“I wouldn’t destroy Markov, if that makes you feel any better,” Cat Noir volunteered.

Max stopped struggling, panting. “Yeah… yeah, that helps.”

Bunnyx let go of Max, glancing over to make sure her umbrella was still good. It was leaning, but its tip was still inside the circle, the handle resting on the base of her burrow. “What did we miss?”

“Marinette is talking with Fu,” Ryuko recounted, the only who had thought to continue watching, “and her kwami fell into his aquarium.”

“Tikki what?” Bunnyx yelped. “That’s bad. If she gets a cold…”

“Master Fu has an aquarium?” Cat Noir asked. “I didn’t see that when I visited him.”

“Well, he certainly didn’t have that shirt when I last saw him either,” Bunnyx grunted, brushing herself off as she stood.

“You’ve visited him before?” King Monkey asked.

“Can Master Fu help if her kwami gets a cold?” Max asked.

“Wait, is he part of the committee now?” Alya stared.

“It appears so,” Ryuko shrugged, even as the screen switched on them again.

“He found her,” Bunnyx realized, barely paying attention to the new environment being panned around on the screen, or anything the heroes were saying, “and now he’s tailing her. Master Fu had nothing but utter faith in Mini-bug; he’s probably waiting to try and help in some way, or maybe is trying to gain her trust!”

“They’re talking!” Nino told her. “Or… that is,  we are.”

Bunnyx looked at the screen, paying attention to the new scene for the first time - and blinked.

It was back to Adrien.

But he was sitting at a table… with most of her old classmates.

“I could help you with some melodies to go along with it, if you want,” Luka Couffaine offered onscreen.

Viperion drew in a breath.

“What?” Alya asked, glancing at him.

But, just then, Bunnyx’s eyes fell on something. “Radio!” she exclaimed.

“What?” Alya yelped the word this time, almost falling over from the force of Bunnyx’s exclamation.

“There was a radio in the kitchen in the first episode,” Bunnyx said, scrambling forward to grip her umbrella, “and now there’s one on that table. We can try and reach you, Adrien!”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Cat Noir asked uncertainly.

Bunnyx paused, glancing over her shoulder at him. Clearly, they were the only two to have developed a new theory about Chat Blanc - one that was likely right.

But when all they did was silently observed each other, Bunnyx knew that Cat Noir was just as interested as she was in sharing it with the others - as in, not at all.

“We have to try,” Bunnyx said instead, finally breaking eye contact and looking back at her umbrella. “If Mini-bug doesn’t know what’s going on, he might. He could help us.” She doubted that, actually, but was still interested in testing out her theory.

Bunnyx twisted her umbrella about, as if tuning it to the perfect signal. She focused, the powers of space and time colliding within her and honing in on their target: the radio.

On screen, the boys were still talking about Ivan’s song for Mylene. Now was as good a time as any to do this - not to mention, Bunnyx didn’t know when the scene might change; for all she knew, she only had a couple of seconds to try this.

“Adrien,” Bunnyx said into the handle of her umbrella, not entirely sure where else to speak.

She stared hard at the Adrien on screen. There didn’t seem to be any reaction from him, so she tried again. “Adrien, can you read me, over?”

“I knew it was bad!” Ivan exclaimed on screen.

Bunnyx tried to focus despite the yelling. “Adrien?”

There was a blip on screen, and beat later, it had cut to Marinette, who was nervously clutching Tikki in her hands.

Everyone stared.

“Well that didn’t work,” Cat Noir finally said.

“Just wait,” Bunnyx said, her voice brittle. “Once it switches back to you, I’ll try again.”

She couldn’t afford for it to not work.

“I might have left the radio behind by then,” Cat Noir pointed out.

“Or maybe not,” Bunnyx countered.

A beat later, it switched back.

Still Adrien. Still at the table.

Still close to the radio.

Instantly, Bunnyx was trying to tune in to the radio again. This time, however, the camera kept switching angles, making it difficult to focus on the radio. She gritted her teeth, sweat dripping down her forehead.

“I need to go,” Adrien said.

Bunnyx focused harder.

Adrien stopped.

Bunnyx’s breath caught; was she getting through?

Just as she went to speak into her umbrella again, however, a jolt went through her body.

“Ack!” she exclaimed, dropping her umbrella.

“What is it?” Cat Noir was by her side in an instant.

Bunnyx shook out her hands, frazzled. “I… I’m not sure. It was like a shock or something.”

“Sit down for a minute,” Ryuko suggested - although it sounded a little bit like an order, coming from her.

Bunnyx sat down obediently. Past or future, one did not simply ignore Ryuko unless they were interested in getting their butt kicked. And her head was kind of dizzy, anyway. Bunnyx focused on breathing, and tried to pay at least some attention to the screen.

The episode played out, Marinette and Adrien doing their act without their miraculouses due to Tikki’s illness. Bunnyx watched with increasing worry over the little pink kwami - until, at last, Fu approached and offered to heal her ‘cat’.

“Is the episode ending?” Viperion asked as Marinette and Adrien headed back to Adrien’s apartment.

“It looks like it,” Bunnyx frowned.

Marinette and Adrien entered the apartment, Marinette talking about a surprise - and food.

There was a sudden blip, and then-

Zwoosh!

Everybody involuntarily screamed, scattering as a body burst out of the burrow hole and slammed into the ground right where they’d been.

The person groaned.

“Chloe!” Cat Noir exclaimed, dropping to his knees beside her.

Chloe - Queen Bee - let out a shallow gasp, as if her lungs were unable to get any air. Her eyes fluttered open - but as soon as they landed upon Cat Noir, they widened, fear obvious in them as she lurched away from him. “N-no…!”

“It’s okay!” Viperion was in front of her in an instant, placing calming hands on her shoulders. “Just breathe, Queen Bee. You’re okay.” He paused. “I mean, I think you are? What happened?”

“Adrien,” Queen Bee gasped out, one of her desperate hands clawing at Viperion’s, her other one wrapping around herself.

“Wait, you saw him?” Bunnyx jumped in, not waiting for Queen Bee to pull herself together. “We didn’t even see you through the feed!”

“See…?” Queen Bee twisted, her other hand still clutching her stomach, only to freeze when she saw the screen. “There- there! Adrien!” Here voice rose to a shriek at the end, and everyone winced.

“What happened, Queenie?” Cat Noir asked, staying several paces back.

Queen Bee stood there, panting, for several moments. Slowly, her shoulders relaxed slightly, and she blinked, as if her mind was just returning to reality. “S… sorry,” Queen Bee muttered, stepping away from Viperion, wrapping both her arms around herself. “You sounded so much like Adrikins for a moment that I panicked. He just… I don’t know, ejected me or something.”

“What are you talking about?” Cat Noir said at the same time that Alya said, “He is Adrien.”

“He’s what?” Queen Bee stared. Then, she stormed over to Cat Noir. “Adrien Agreste, are you telling me you’ve been risking your life these past 3 weeks by yourself?”

“That’s what I said!” Nino exclaimed.

“Everybody, shut up!” Bunnyx yelled. The heroes fell silent, and Bunnyx roughly shoved hair out of her eyes, letting out a pent up breath. “Queen Bee, tell us what happened.”

Queen Bee shot another venomous glare at Cat Noir, as if promising their conversation would continue later. “It was… wrong. Yet right. It was Paris, but in black and white. And I was in a disgusting outfit with bees flying around.” She shuddered.

“Queen Bee, please,” Bunnyx said, desperate for information.

“Fine, okay!” Queen Bee shook her head, as if trying to clear it. She wrapped her arms around herself again. “I saw Adrien - well, Chat Blanc, I suppose.” She shot a glance at Cat Noir. “But… he had blue eyes.”

“Blue?” Bunnyx repeated, simultaneously confused and wondering how this was important.

Queen Bee shuddered. “It was horrible. They were ice. Marinette was there with him. I’d wandered around all day, trying to find her. But then… Adrikins clenched his hand, and…. then I was here.”

“A suit with bees?” Bunnyx repeated, her mind unable to let go of that piece of information. “Wait. Fu has turtles.” She blinked, the pieces clicking together. “This future doesn’t seem to want us to reach it. It has been fighting us since we first began trying to get in. Maybe it’s revealing who we really are!” She began to pace. “And Markov - it must’ve turned him into something to match the time period the show was set in at the time.”

“Show?” Queen Bee repeated weakly, sitting down.

As if on cue, the credits began to roll.

“Wait, was that in colour?” Viperion asked. “I wasn’t even watching.”

“Yes,” Ryuko confirmed simply.

Everyone sat down at once, as if all this was too much to process. Bunnyx stopped her pacing to stare at the screen, hard, as the third episode began.

It was in colour.

Cat Noir drew in a sharp breath at the sight of Adrien on screen - and Bunnyx had to resist doing the same thing herself. Chloe had been right; his eyes were piercing blue.

They silently watched it play out. Marinette was planning a surprise, going around doing errands for it. Adrien disappeared for a short time, heading outside before the screen switched back to Marinette. When it finally showed him again, he was heading back to the apartment.

After the excitement of the last episode, it seemed almost like… a let down. Overall, the whole episode appeared to be harmless enough. There was no new information; Fu was still there, still helping Marinette and gaining her trust. Kim also made an appearance, as did Bunnyx’s old teacher, Ms. Bustier, but nothing truly serious happened.

As the episode wound down, however, Adrien was left alone with Fu in the apartment.

There was a sudden blip on the TV, and-

Adrien was alone.

Bunnyx leapt forward, alarmed. “Fu’s gone!”

As if summoned by her words, a body rocketed out of the burrow, white light flashing brilliantly as they exploded from the burrow. Queen Bee screamed as it narrowly missed slamming into Bunnyx, shooting out past her and flying into their midst.

As soon as it had crashed down, however, they all instantly recognized who it was.

“Master Fu!” Alya exclaimed.

“Are you okay?” Nino’s jaw dropped.

“What happened?” Queen Bee demanded, already seeming to have recovered from her shock, struggling to push herself up.

“Where’s Ladybug?” Cat Noir asked, desperation clear in his tone.

Master Fu slowly opened his eyes, letting out a groan and closing them again.

“Fu,” Bunnyx knelt down beside him, relief at seeing him back and yet fear for the same reason colliding within her. “What happened?”

Slowly, Fu opened his eyes again.

“Fu?” Bunnyx hated to rush him, but her nerves were grating incessantly that the show was still running right now.

Master Fu’s gaze locked on her. With obvious effort, he whispered, “I…”

“Fu?” Bunnyx frowned, worried. There was a pale pallor to the old man that wasn’t normal.

Master Fu closed his eyes, as if pained. “Bunnyx… I don’t know if we can rescue her.”

-

Feet pounded on the stairs, someone obviously taking them two at a time.

Someone burst into the apartment behind Adrien. “Wang Fu!” Marrinette’s voice called. “Your turtles… I’m sorry but they’re…”

She stopped short. Adrien could hear the way her breath was coming in short gasps.

After several tense moments, she finally asked, “Adrien? Where… where’s Wang Fu?”

For a moment, Adrien tried to figure out how to answer that. At last, though, he settled on simply saying, “Oh, he left, Marinette. He had to rush home.”

He turned around-

And gasped.

“What?” Marinette asked, concerned. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Except… she wasn’t Marinette.

Not really.

Not anymore.

Her body was grey, as if she were a statue. Despite not wearing the earrings, she appeared to be in her superhero suit, staring at Adrien with dull, lifeless eyes.

Adrien turned his face away. “I…”

He could hear the way Marinette was taking a few hesitant steps forward. “You’ve always worked so hard for others; maybe we should take a trip out of the city or something.” She was beside him now, slipping her arm through his. “We’re superheroes, kitty. We can go wherever we want, once we put the suits on.”

She was suggesting using the miraculouses for their own gain - out of her own free will.

For him.

Adrien steadied himself with a breath, then looked at her.

Marinette was back to normal.

“No, we can’t,” he finally whispered. “This is our home. Paris is the reason that we donned these suits, so… in Paris we shall remain.”

Marinette’s brow crinkled in concern. “Are you sure?”

Adrien’s face relaxed into a smile at her. It was amazing having her back - but even better to feel her love. He’d missed her so much. “Don’t worry, buginette. I have everything under control.”

-

“Master Fu…” Bunnyx hesitated. “Are you all right?”

What she hoped he was about to say was that he wasn’t, he’d hit his head on the way out, and what he’d just said wasn’t true.

But she knew just from the way he looked at her that her hope was in vain.

Rallying himself once more, Fu locked eyes with her and gasped out, “It’s Adrien. It’s all Adrien.”

-

“I’m back!” Emilie announced.

Marinette twisted about, looking at her. “Oh, so soon?”

“I realized I didn’t need to go out after all,” Emilie replied cheerfully. She came around the couch to them, laying a quick kiss on Adrien’s forehead.

Adrien smiled at them both. “Well, what should we watch tonight?”

First / Previous / Next {Coming Soon!}

[detroitbydark]

Chapter 9

Characters: Commander Fox/Reader

Warning: None

A/N: I’m breaking this and the next part into two seperate pieces to keep them at a comfortable readable length. Strap into your seats babes it’s about to get bumpy.

“For the love of Fett-“ Fox shoves the datapad away in a fit of disgust. Three others sit nearby. He was missing something and he was starting to wonder if it wasn’t his mind.

There was a piece he just didn’t have. Rex hadn’t been able to provide it, only given him more questions.

It’s well past the end of his work day but Fox can’t let it rest. He drags a holopad back. This one contains footage, surveillance of the ARC trooper from before everything had come to a head. There had to be something he was meeting, someone somewhere in the background. A hint of anything to go off of.

But there wasn’t. He’d watched the same blurry, looped feed six times already and nothing new presented itself.

That was the definition of madness wasn’t it? Doing the same thing over and over yet expecting different results.

“Fox?” Mouse’s voice cuts through the noise on his head. “It’s getting late. Let it be for the day.”

He raises a brow at the order. Not her usual gentle question. He’s not feeling playful or amorous and she seems to mirror it in the way she stands across the room, her distance from him speaking volumes and making his stomach clench uncomfortably. He’d give anything right now just to lose himself in the soft plains of her body, let the sounds of their passion drown out the voices inside his head that said he was failing.

“Can’t.” He gruffs, pulling another datapad over and flipping through the screen. redacted black lines take up the entirety of it and any attempt to bypass is left with a flashing red ‘access denied’. He snarls lowly.

“Alverde?” the term throws him off. His Little Mouse didn’t speak any Mando’a. She offers a tiny smile to his bewildered expression.

“Wren taught me a few things.”

His stomach clenches again, sour and dispeptic. Had they talked about what he’d said in the heat of the moment? He couldn’t explain himself now. Couldn’t have the conversation if she wanted too. There was too much he needed to-

Mouse’s hand softly cradles his cheek. He flinches away. He hadn’t realized she’d moved so close. Maybe he was too tied up in his own thoughts. The look on her face is hurt. It’s the only way to describe it, like he hadn’t pulled away but in reality had slapped her.

He grabs for her hand quickly, grip tight at her wrist. He presses a firm kiss to the back of her hand and then more along her knuckles until he feels the muscles in her arm begin to relax. Mouse sighs tiredly. Yeah, he could understand that. She moves to perch on the edge of the desk.

“It’s been a long day but I need to figure this out.” He tries to explain.

“Is this about Captain Rex?” The 501st Officer had not left a good impression on Mouse if her eyes glaring daggers at his backside as he’d left had told the story.

“This is about us all.” Fox corrects, saying aloud for the first time what was truly at stake or, at least, what he’d come to believe. “The Jedi, the clones, my brothers-“

Mouse sits, looking away from him and to the datapad.

“You shouldn’t be looking at these.” He says after a minute, though he doesn’t move to close anything out. Mouse raises a brow at him before getting up to pull the chair from the other side of the desk around next to him. He’d rather she be in his lap. Even next to him feels too far away. He can’t bring himself to act on it.

“Why are all these about the ARC trooper?” She questions, not validating his assessment with a response. She knew as well as he did that this was far beyond any clearance she had.

Fox’s jaw clenches. He needed to tell her to go. This wasn’t for her to see but he can’t because he's weak for her. Having her near may flare some nerves but her presence alone calms so many others.

“You're looking at this like Fives was the lynchpin in whatever plot you’ve got brewing.” She traces the image of the clone softly and Fox feels a flare of something ugly in the soft brush of her fingers against the datapad. “He was young, fresh from ARC training. Where would he find someone to conspire with?” She makes a point.

Maybe he’d been looking at this wrong, “so your saying, Fives wasn’t a conspirator, he just-“

“-got mixed up in it. Did the Captain say when they started noticing him acting strange?”

“After the clone Tup turned on his Jedi-“ Fox pauses for a minute. He’s already said too much so he decides, kriff it, and says it all “he was sick, they thought. Sent him to Kamino for- Rex said he wasn’t right after Tup died there.”

“But Fives didn’t think Tup was sick,” Mouse says quietly. Fox looks at her not for the first time and wishes he’d never laid a hand on her because now she was in this and he wanted her too kriffing to make her go. If this was high level stuff, something cooked up by higher military personnel than it was more dangerous than she’d ever know.

“Who do you think is responsible?”

Now that was the question of the hour. All the way to the top? Tarkin’s name comes to mind first and foremost. The man oozed hunger for power, latched onto any he could get and clung to it fiercely with thin skeletal fingers. Wulff Yularen was another probable candidate but he didn’t seem to stand out so much as Tarkin did. Maybe it was by design. Maybe Yularen has grown weary of being held at heel by the Jedi Order. Maybe he thought he could do better. It was a possibility but still it didn’t feel likely.

The Kaminoans had discouraged young clones from pacing, it was an inefficient use of metabolized energy and unnecessary for such high functioning merchandise. Fox found it to be the best way to think. The act of motion helped to center his thoughts, form them into something clear and concise instead of a tangled, jumbled mess. He rises to his feet and begins the short path back and forth across the office.

He needed access to the redacted files. His clearance- top secret- should have cleared all of that for him but it had barely scratched the surface of the files. They were utterly useless as they were now. He’d need them opened. If it was one of the admirals preparing for some sort of military coup he wouldn’t be able to go to them, while Yularen may comply with his request Tarkin thought too little of clones to agree even if he wasn’t implicitly involved. If they were working together any request would expose him to the full wrath they were capable of bringing down.

No. He needed to go higher. The Supreme Chancellor could get the files opened or at least find the one to order too. It was a matter of galactic security, even though Fox wasn’t a great fan of the Chancellor personally he trusted the man to do what was in the galaxies best interest. That was what he'd sworn an oath to do.

A warm hand slides over his. He startles. Again. He was too on edge for any of this. Mouse looks up with worried eyes.

“Fox-“

“I need you to go home.” He's brisk, erasing any tenderness from his voice. She does a good job of hiding the cringe at his words. He needed her to stop looking at him with those big, trusting eyes. Eyes that held all her faith in him. If she didn’t he wasn’t sure he’d have the strength to push her away again. Even now it hurt, felt like he was carving out a part of his heart with a dull vibroblade. He couldn’t drag her any further into this no matter how much he did- how much he did care for her.

He could not allow her to be in danger. If something happened to her… he just wouldn’t allow it to happen. Even if he had to be cold to do it. He’d make it up to her after the conspiracy had been laid to rest. When it was safe to have her at his side again. It physically hurts his head, his chest, and even down to the marrow of his bones to place what he wants (but now he’s more afraid that it’s moved on to a need) to the back burner for any reason.

“Mouse go home. Yours.” He clarifies before she can ask. “You can’t- I don’t need you here.” Fox is surprised he can lie so convincingly.

“Fox-“

“-No” his voice is sharp and Mouse flinches, he almost misses it as small as it is. All the same it’s like a punch to the gut. “Go home. I don’t want you here.” It’s amazing he’s able to get the words out. He’s never lied so completely in his entire decade of life. He feels like a hut’uun as Mouse turns away. She doesn’t fight him on it and he wants her too. He wants her to yell or rage. He wants her to fight to be with him.

His Mouse is smarter than that. She’s better than that. His cyar’ika knows him better than he knows himself he worries- he hopes- because the small sounds she’s making as she leaves the office sound like a broken heart.

——

It’s been a long time since you’ve been made to feel so small. You’d never handled rejection well. Your mother had been very cognizant of it and, after you’d lost her, the children’s home attendants had learned quickly. You’d always just been sensitive and any kind of harsh treatment made your mind push into shut down mode.

In a year working at Fox’s side he’d never so much as volleyed a cross word your way.

He hadn’t just then, your brain supplies helpfully.

That wasn’t how you felt. It was as if he’d slammed the door in your face. The sweetness he’d shown you over the last week was gone as if you’d only just come into his acquaintance. It kriffing hurt. That’s what it did. It hurt. Especially after your talk with Wren earlier in the day.

You wipe at your eyes as you take the elevator to the nearest speeder platform and wait for a taxi to loop around. A chill rises up from the lower levels and you shiver lightly. You think back to the previous night, the emotion that had bled through Fox’s words as he held you. The depth of what you’d felt when Wren had translated them earlier.

Forever.

That was the word that you let roll around in your head and your heart. But maybe that was just the heat of the moment falling from his lips? Of course you didn’t want forever.

This was too young, too new. Of course Fox didn’t mean it. Time away from one another would be good, breed perspective. You were drunk off the newness and the feeling of being wanted by such a strong individual. That was all. It was good to separate yourself from the situation. You needed to be alone so you could think clearly and reevaluate what you thought you knew.

By the time the door of the cab is popping open your brain has almost completely convinced your heart that it was in the wrong. Almost.

———-

Fox wakes at his desk, still on full armor with the exception of his helmet off to the side, at 0400. His back protests the first attempt to move into motion and he’s forced to stretch slowly before trying again. His vertebrae pop loudly in protest. He has to agree with them. Falling asleep draped over the duraplast was a rotten idea, certainly less inviting than other sleeping arrangements he’d made over the last week. He doesn’t allow himself to think of Mouse. Definitely, not the way she’d left him the night before.

There was too much riding on his time with the Supreme Chancellor today to allow anything to distract him. He needed more access, to reopen the case. To be given the freedom to investigate like he hadn’t had previously, like he hadn’t pushed for.

He makes his way down to the barracks, shucking his armor and blacks the second he’s clear of the door. The ‘fresher is his first stop. There’s barely an ounce of heat to the stream of water that pelts him. The cool blast wakes him faster than any cup of high-octane caf ever could. He’s efficient, clean and wrapped in a towel in no time flat like he’d been taught on Kamino.

Next, he runs a razor over his face. He doubted he’d be taking his bucket off but if it came to that, Chancellor Palpatine wouldn’t see anything other than the absolute pinnacle of military excellence. To complete the effect he takes the clippers, trimming the short hairs around his temple and back of his head back into regs. He pauses before he gets to the hair at his crown. It was getting longer, not yet floppy but more to the length than he’d traditionally allow.

Mouse had mentioned how she’d liked running her fingers through it as it had slowly grown over the last week. She liked the feel of it between her fingers and he couldn’t argue. He liked the feel of it between her fingers as well. He leaves it be and packs the razor and clippers away before retrieving clean blacks from his closet and fitting his armor back into place. He makes a point of shining the visor to a glossy mirror finish.

A yawn creeps past his lips and Fox takes a longing look at his bed but he knows if he lays back down now he’d be even worse for wear when he got up. No sleep was better than too much sleep as far as he was concerned. He had ways to fight the fatigue. Today was a day for caf and stims, maybe not in that order.

Like any good trooper, Fox kept half a dozen stims in a belt pocket for emergencies. On Coruscant they weren’t as likely to use them as the clones in off world war zones but they did get used from time to time. There was nearly no other feeling better than riding a stim high, comparable to a good night's sleep, three square meals, and a good hot shower. A single stim would make you feel ready to take on the world single-handedly. That’s what he needed today. He pops the little blue and red capsule dry, swallowing it down quick.

By the time he’s to the cafeteria Fox is already beginning to feel the effects of the stims in his system. He no longer has to focus to keep his feet from shuffling, his back feels straight and strong, and his focus is laser sharp. It doesn’t do much for the anxiety that’s been slowly eating at him since Rex showed up yesterday but it gives him the mental fortitude to pack every kriffing nerve and down, down, down burying it so deep below the surface that he can confidently pretend it doesn’t exist.

He downs a ration bar and a cup of caf without breaking his stride, the few clones already present and eating offer respectful greetings and Fox returns them with a quick nod. His vode. This is who he needed to get to the bottom of this for. He needed to keep them safe, make sure they had a future to work towards.

It's nearly 0630 by the time Fox is parking his speeder in the garage of the main senate complex. No matter what the time of day Coruscanti traffic, particularly around the Senate, was a nightmare. Not for the first time, Fox wonders what it might be like in another world, a place where the city isn’t a hodgepodge of thousands of levels dating back to who knew how many centuries past. What must it be like to see green pastures and vast waters, a place that was more scenic than scene?

His mind is firing on too many cylinders and he takes a moment and a deep breath to refocus. The stims are working their magic now and it was his job to focus it to precision, not let it run amok.

The clones at both security checkpoints entering into the building give him a thorough once over even as they recognize him as their Commander. He’s pleased. If they did this to him it meant they treated everyone entering the same, a possible threat until proven otherwise. The safety of the senators and their staff depended on his men.

His boots echo against the fine marble floor as he makes his way to the Supreme Chancellor’s offices. The turbo lift takes him to the top of the building and he encounters one last checkpoint before he’s able to enter. It’s nearly 0730.

Palpatine is busy at his desk when Fox enters. He waits at parade rest for a handful of minutes until the chancellor completes whatever task he’d been set on and looks up.

“Commander” he greets pleasantly, “your early. I wasn’t expecting you til at least the turn of the hour.”

“I can come back if I-“

Palpatine waves him off. “No, my young friend. Come closer. It will be nice to have the company before the business of the day begins.”

The informality makes Fox uncomfortable. He lowers himself into the seat he’s motioned too. “I’m afraid I do have some business for you this morning” Fox stares straight ahead, he’s glad he’s got his bucket on, even so, when the chancellor looks at him he feels as if the old man is looking through it.

“Well that is unfortunate but, part of the grand scheme of things I suppose. What is it? I did hope I’d hear more about the lady love I'd encouraged you to pursue our last meeting.”

The smile he gives makes Fox feel like squirming. His gaze is more assessing than friendly. Fox thinks of how precarious the situation is. His vode, the Jedi, Mouse.

“Any relationship would be wholly inappropriate given my standing within the GAR and the greater Republic, sir” it’s a deflective answer, neither admittance nor denial of what was going on. A brief flash of, what can only be annoyance, flashes across the chancellor’s face. Then it’s gone as if it had never existed.

“I’ve gathered new intel on the case of CT-5555.” That earns him a raised look, as the chancellor leans back in his seat.

“I see.”

Fox watches as the chancellor pushes up from his seat, he moves slowly. His weakness on display in the slight hitch in his gait, the way he holds a hand to the warm wood of his desk for a moment too long to maintain his balance. He moves to stand in front of the large transparisteel windows, turning his back to Fox as he looks out over Coruscant. “I was led to believe that all the pertinent information in that case had already been obtained. The case was closed last I was made aware.”

“And it still is” Fox leans forward in his seat, gloves planted against his knees, “some new information has come to light and, well, the case is so severely redacted I’m having trouble slotting it in or making any sense of it.”

“What kind of information?”

A dull throb, flares into existence at the base of Fox’s skull. Nothing as horrible as some of the headaches he’s endured previously but worrying all the same as the stims should have brought it to a screeching halt. He blinks once. Twice. It takes a moment to set his head straight.

“Captain Rex of the 501st-“

“Skywalker’s Captain?”

“Yes sir.” He hates the way the chancellor interrupts nearly as much as he hates the way his vode are spoken of as belonging to the Jedi. “Captain Rex has some insight into the clones behavior leading up to the incident. He says he filed a report but I’m unable to find any such thing in the case files.”

“The case is closed, my boy” the chancellor's tone has developed a chill. Fox wishes he could see his face but the old man doesn’t turn away from the window.

“You could have it opened. This is a matter of galactic importance.” Fox pushes, feeling desperation rising in his chest along with his heart rate but he can’t stop to think about that. He has to make the Chancellor understand. Now was not a time to hold back, “I believe there is a threat building within the GAR itself. A conspiracy to bring down the clone army and the Jedi.” The pressure in his head is increasing. It’s moving about, hopping from one point to another.

“The case is closed, Commander Fox.”

“Chancellor- I-“ he fights back a wave of nausea. The Chancellor’s voice is all around him. It’s in him, echoing off the insides of his skull.

“Commander Fox, you don’t want to look any further into this matter.”

Fox rises to his feet quickly. His head spins as he drags in a ragged breath. His lungs feel pressed tight as if they’d been placed in a vice, “I need to-“

“You do not need to continue to push this matter. The case is closed. You did a thorough review and found nothing.”

Fox cocks his head. The tension breaks with an awful clarity. The pressure eases, like the sky becoming clear after a late afternoon storm, “I did review the file. Nothing new was there.”

The Chancellor turns and offers him a grin. “You’re a good soldier, Commander Fox.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Now, tell me, how much assistance did your precious secretary offer for your research?”

[bangtan-madi]

All Of Our Lifetimes — Seven: Sleepless in Seoul

Pairing — Taehyung x Reader

Tags — boyfriend!Taehyung, husband!Taehyung reincarnation au, lovers to strangers and to lovers again, established relationship, implied soulmate au

Genre — fluff, angst, crime (ish)

Word Count — 2.5k

Summary — Does love ever truly end, or does it simply take another form in a new life? The cycle is like clockwork: your lives end and you’re reborn again. You’ve lived it over and over. Each cycle, one of you loses your memories and is tragically unaware until the other finds and awakens their lover. After all these eons, all these lifetimes, is it possible to find each other again—even when neither of you awakens with your memories? 

Part — 7 / 15

Warnings — none

Previous — Next

That night, sleep alludes you. You can't find it in you to close your eyes and quiet your mind for long enough to drift off. Instead, you lie on your back, stare at the ceiling, and wonder if Taehyung is doing the same.

When morning finally comes, the dawn stretching out her welcoming arms in the form of sunlight, you leave for the museum early. Even though you had promised to meet Taehyung at ten, you take the front steps two-by-two just before eight. The building isn't even open yet, and it won't be for another half-hour. It's something you hadn't considered in your sleepless and distracted state.

"You couldn't sleep either, then?"

Turning on your heel, you see Taehyung standing behind you. His usual disguise is back up; this time, the hoodie is dark blue and the mask is white. Messy, dark hair hangs just above dark brown eyes, the same ones that stare intently at you. 

Offering a sheepish smile, you shove your hands into your jacket pockets. "I'm not sure I did at all, really. Too much on my mind."

"Me, too." Breathing a sigh, Taehyung turns and sits down on the stairs leading up to the front of the building. He looks at you over his shoulder and motions to the spot beside him. "I won't bite. Promise."

The concrete is cold underneath you, and the air is chilly. The early morning silence is a welcome void, and you sit in it with Taehyung for several minutes. 

"I was up thinking pretty much all night," he states. You wouldn't say his voice breaks the silence; it's far too soft and quiet to break anything, even silence. It's gentle and deep, a honey-smooth melody that plays along with the quiet.

"About what?"

"Reincarnation." He shifts so that his elbows are propped on separated knees. His attention is on the conversation, but his eyes are elsewhere. "I don't know about America, but in Korea, it's something that we're told from a young age. It's always been a possibility."

"Really?" you prod, interested in the way he's grown up.

Taehyung nods, and a small smile slips onto his face. "My grandmother always used to warn me, 'Be good! Otherwise, you'll come back as a rock.' And when six-year-old me said that that didn't sound so bad, that it was better than coming bad as a spider, she'd turn to me..." He holds up a finger, waving it as if mimicking his grandmother. "And she'd say, 'If you come back as a rock, you might be dropped into the sea or left on top of a mountain. You won't have family or friends to keep you company, and you'll be there for a much longer time than a spider.' She'd always add, 'At least a spider has a job to do in its lifetime.'"

You can't help but chuckle at the way his voice fluctuates to sound like the woman he clearly admires so much. "Your grandmother is wise."

The brunet's smile falters a bit, and he lets his finger drop back down. "She was."

You gather from his tone that she's no longer with him. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," he assures, shaking his head. "She was the best there was. I believe she's living on. I might not know where or when or as who, but she's out there somewhere." He turns to look at you, tilting his head slightly. "Do you believe life goes on, [Y/n]?"

Your thoughts shift back to the dreams you've had your entire life, then to the images on the museum walls, all while keeping your eyes on the man that's involved in both of them. Setting aside your upbringing and your family's beliefs or what your country by in-large preaches, how could you deny anything other than the fact that there is something that happens after you die?

Maybe not to everyone, maybe not all the time, but the evidence is piling up, and everything is pointing to you and Taehyung having intertwined past lives.

"Yes."

The conversation comes to a halt as a shadow crosses over both your figures. Taehyung's head moves swiftly to see who's behind you. His expression is one caught off-guard, laced with surprise and...fear.

The museum curator stands with hands clasped behind her back, a welcoming smile on her face. "Apologies, I didn't mean to startle you."

You stand and bow slightly as a greeting. "We're early. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all," she replies, shaking her head.

Taehyung snaps out of his stupor, stands beside you, and mirrors your polite bow. "Sorry, I'm a little out of it. Didn't sleep very well last night."

Jwa Ji-yeong cracks a smile and tucks a loose strand of dark hair behind her ear. "You did seem a little jumpy, and I figured a five-foot-even woman wasn't the reason." She gestures towards the museum entrance. "Follow me. I was just about to open up."

Taehyung and you follow the petite woman into the large brick building. The space is eerily dark and silent before she flips the switch and brings it to life. Even your soft footsteps echo down every hallway you pass on the way to the other side of the museum. As the lights slowly get brighter, they cast fewer and lighter shadows. Yet still, as you venture into the space ahead of the curator where she has yet to do the same, the art looks ghostly and almost sinister.

You force yourself not to look into the showroom that holds Winged Victory of Samothrace as you pass by. Your heartbeat quickens as you see the silhouette of the water fountain come into view. And you know that just beyond that is a gallery wall full of pictures of you. It's enough to make your head spin.

Instinctively, you reach out for the thing nearest you to steady yourself. Taehyung's hoodie sleeve happens to be that thing. You grip it tightly, focusing on the softness of the fabric and the warmth radiating off his skin. On anything other than your racing heart and sweaty palms, especially on the way such a reserved person doesn't pull away. 

Keeping your gaze firmly ahead, you're relieved when Ms. Jwa diverts away from the water fountain and leads you to a section of the museum you've never seen before. Your visible relief doesn't escape your companion, the way your shoulders relax and your breathing comes easier. 

"Are you okay?" he whispers, out of earshot of the curator.

Nodding slightly, you release his hoodie sleeve with a heated face and turn slightly away. "Yeah, sorry."

"Don't be. I'm a little uneasy, too." 

Taehyung's next actions are the opposite of what you'd expect. His fingers wrap around your wrist at first, then slide down to brush against your palm. Eventually, his fingers lace with yours when you don't push him away. 

It's impossible to explain the feelings that the simple gesture gives you.

"Where are we going?" Taehyung asks the museum curator.

Ms. Jwa stops in front of a service elevator, the extremely large kind reserved only for employees to transport pieces of art to and from storage. She slides her security pass against the panel. We hear an affirmative beep, and the doors part down the middle. 

"There are some items in storage that I've kept for a long time," she replies as the three enter. After selecting the below-ground level of three, she turns back to you. "I promised you answers, and while I don't have them all, I have some."

"Why don't you just tell us?" you ask.

The petite woman shakes her head, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you. Trust me, this is something you have to see for yourself."

The elevator doors open a few moments later. Ms. Jwa steps out into the dark, reaching over to the side to flip on another light switch. She waves to you and Taehyung, signaling for you both to follow.

The third level of the basement is wide and expansive. A bit duller and grayer than the above levels, it reminds you of a storage facility or warehouse. Row upon row of boxes and crates fill the space. Large, florescent lights hang high overhead.

"This is where we keep our long-term items," she announces, and Taehyung tugs you to keep up. "Things that aren't always on display but we refuse to get rid of, nevertheless. It's also where I, as the Head Curator, can pick and choose those items I want to have on-hand for a future exhibit. In other words, I have a bit of lenience and privacy as to what I keep down here."

She walks up to a smaller crate at the end of the last aisle, one that's been here for a long time if the dust is any clue. Using a cloth from a hanger nearby, she brushes it off and reveals the label below. Briefly reading the tag, she smiles and taps it lightly with a slender finger. 

"This is it! This is the one I was looking for."

"What is it?"

She turns to you, and her eyes soften. "This...This was an old friend's. I made them a promise that I would take care of their belongings if anything were to happen to them. So, naturally, after they..." She trails off. "It has all the answers I have. If you both want to take it to one of our art inspection rooms over there," she nods to a door at the end of the warehouse, "to look at what's inside, please go ahead."

"You won't be there with us?" you ask. "That's risky, leaving museum property to total strangers, isn't it?"

Ms. Jwa chuckles softly as she pats the surface of the crate affectionately. "You're not strangers. If you need me, I'll be on the ground-level taking care of a few things. The elevator doesn't need a security pass to go back up. So whenever you're done, you're free to leave whenever."

After she departs, Taehyung walks around you and picks up the medium-sized crate with ease. He nods to the back door, and you walk ahead of him to open it.

The inspection room is simple and clean. The beige walls are pristine, and the lighting in this space is much more cool-toned than that in the warehouse. A large table takes up most of the space inside, with tools and packing materials lining the cabinets on the far wall. 

Taehyung places the crate on the surface and plops into one of the nearby chairs. "Can you find something to open this with? Maybe a crow-bar or—"

"—What about this?" you ask, pulling a large tool from the nearest cabinet.

The brunet tugs his face mask off his face, unwrapping it from around his ears and placing it into his hoodie pocket. At your suggestion, he makes a satisfied face and takes the tool from you. Silently, he places the slender end between the cracks on the crate lid.

"Who wants to bet that this is full of things that belonged to the other Kim Taehyung?"

"And his wife," you add. "Who looks like me."

Taehyung stops his movements, turning instead to gaze across the table at you. "We can stop right now if you don't want to go on. I wouldn't blame you if you didn't want to dive into this. Reincarnation, the possibility of it...it's not an easy one to swallow."

You shake your head. "No, I've come this far. If the answer is that I've—we've lived another life, trust me. I've thought of crazier scenarios over the years. I...I have to know. I'm losing sleep and becoming more consumed by this secret every day I'm in Seoul." There's a pause as Taehyung's eyes glance down at the tool in his hands. "What about you? Getting cold feet?"

"No, it's not that," he breathes. "I've heard about the possibility of past lives my whole life. If this is real...then there was another version of me living right up until my birth. In that case, the only reason I was born at all is that he died in 1995." He gives a small shrug. "It's an unnerving thought."

"I hadn't thought of that..."

Taehyung chuckles softly. "I bring up a lot of things no one thinks about, sorry if it made you uncomfortable."

"Not at all." Giving him a reassuring smile, you tap the wood to emphasize your conviction. "Go on. If you're ready, so am I."

Your companion takes a deep breath in to steady himself, straightening his back and shoulders as he grips the metal tool tighter. "Whatever we see, whatever we find out..."

You can see he's struggling to get his feelings across; a little crease appears between his brows as they furrow, and his lips purse into a thin line. In an attempt to put his restlessness at ease, you move your hand from the crate to cover his, giving his fingers a brief squeeze.

You lock eyes with his for a moment, and your smile widens a bit. "I got your back, Taehyungie."

The nickname causes him to giggle. You're relieved to see the edge wear away, shifting him back to a semblance of his usual, happy-go-lucky self. "You're only three weeks older than me," he murmurs. "Don't let it go to your head."

"Wouldn't dream of it," you retort with a sly side-smile.

Taehyung shakes his head at your amusement and turns back to the task at hand. 

All smiles fall away when you recall why you're here, what you're about to see, and what truths might be revealed. It doesn't slip by you that his hands still tremble a bit, nor does it go unnoticed the lump that forms in your throat. No amount of teasing or flirting can make you forget that the items in front of you belonged to a couple who loved each other more than life itself, and who died because of it.

Those people were you and Taehyung. Twenty-five years ago, in another lifetime, you were them.

With a swift flick of his wrist, Taehyung pops the lid open with the metal tool. Dust and small pieces of wood are cast into the air, causing you both to cough and wave the debris away. He places the tool to the side. Each of you grabs a side of the lid, carefully moving it to the other side of the table.

Without any further delay, you begin to delve into the past.

Taglist — @just-call-me-trash-can​​, @jaienn​​​, @happyhrsme​​, @butaes​​, @peter-pan​, @twoteen-yup​, @dreamcatcherjiah​

[merryfortune]

Day 10 / Electric

Clover and Violets 2021

Ship: not applicable | Kyoko/Hayami

Universe: Vrains

Word Count: 1,580

Rating: T

Tags: Post Canon, Meet Cute, Fluff, Implied Redemption Arc

   Hayami wasn’t good at meeting new co-workers. Not for lack of trying though, more like because of trying too much. She wanted to make a good impression. Even if it was a good impression on people who really got into the nitty-gritty of Sol Tech’s shadier dealings.

   So, she put on a big smile and she did what she did best: played the gopher.

   Not to brag or anything but she had gotten really good at making coffee these days. She made a mean dirty chai, in her opinion. She brought out five throwaway cups on a cluttered, wooden tray into the office chambers where they were having their meeting, as well as milk, cream, sugar, any topping they could really want: Hayami was doing her best to make their guests feel at home. Maybe even so much at home that they would drop the facade and use their real names. Akira told her not to be so hopeful but Hayami thought that a little bit of hospitality would go a long way.

   Regardless, she was the last one to walk into the room and Akira closed the door behind her, completing the soundproofing of the room. She smiled, big and gawky, as she set down the tray. And as she did so, she did a head count: their boss wasn’t here but the main entourage of this upper echelon on were, the only one missing aside from Revolver was his little assistant who had duelled Blue Angel.

   “Help yourselves.” Hayami said.

   “Don’t mind if I do.” nattered the man closed to her, he was about mid-thirties to early forties, glasses, and green hair.

   Hayami smiled. She then flicked her gaze to the other two, the other man and the only other woman aside from her,  made sure they were welcome to have some coffee as well. In the meantime, she took her own drink and sugared it to oblivion and beyond. The woman - with sharp cheekbones and devilish red hair - hid a giggle as she did that.

   “Are we all comfortable yet?” Akira asked.

   He sounded a little testy so Hayami made sure that he got his coffee promptly as well: he took it almost black, one sugar and a teaspoon of milk. He thanked Hayami with just his eyebrows before he took stock of the rest of the situation. It seemed so and thus, Akira began the meeting.

   And what a dull meeting it was, Hayami thought. It was dark inside the room and Akira’s voice droned; Hayami could have gone straight to sleep in her chair. Thank goodness she had the coffee. She wouldn’t have been able to keep her eyes open through it, and her mouth closed, too. It was all hypotheticals on top of hypotheticals; action plans for future action plans. Very ambiguous and open ended, she mostly just nodded and hummed in agreement whenever Akira said something she thought made sense or sounded good or if he just needed someone in his corner to back him up. 

   So yes, the meeting couldn’t end quick enough but when it did, there was time to linger. To get up, stand around, stretch their legs. The Knights of Hanoi mostly kept to themselves so Hayami took the chance to clean afterwards. She collected up the mostly empty throwaway cups and all the foodstuffs she had brought over in the first place but that Baira woman couldn’t let fine enough be. 

   Hayami was perfectly capable of doing it all by herself but she insisted. She glared, with pursed lips, and she tried to help Hayami when she did not want the help. The outcome was about what was expected. Hayami attempted to trod off with all of it in her arms; Baira tried to cut in and take some of her burden but Hayami refused with a smile and a mildly annoyed, furrowed brow.

   The two ladies engaged in an exceedingly polite warfare of push and pull and it ended with milk and cream going everywhere. Though, mostly it went all over Baira and that nice white jacket of hers.

   Hayami was stunned with her error and it was, mostly, her error. “I am so sorry.” she said. “I can pay for dry cleaning for you, if you like.”

   Baira laughed. “It's fine, I’ve been covered in worse.” Her laughter was coarse, barky, but jolly and good natured. “How about you just show me to the nearest restroom, huh, sweetie?”

   “Oh, yeah, totally.” Hayami chirped, stiffening up, she loved pet names and didn’t mind if they were used by near or virtual strangers.

   Hayami gathered up what was dropped and with Baira, they dawdled off. The nearest restroom was on the corner of the floor and they got cleaned up there. Hayami helped dab off stains on Baira’s coat, both thankful that it hadn’t been actual coffee that they had dropped on her.

   It felt odd for Hayami to pick up and bundle Baira’s coat but she seemed content to watch, observing Hayami with a sharp eye. Hayami blushed. She didn’t actually think she was that interesting but maybe she was.

   “There we go,” Hayami said, “all done.”

   “You’re good at this.” Baira said and she shrugged. “I’ll be the first to admit, cleaning, housekeeping, cooking: never been my forte, you?”

   “Love all of the above.” Hayami admitted, a little bit embarrassed.

   “You’d be a cute housewife, feeding the OL to wife pipeline, it's an important job.” Baira teased her.

   “Oh shut up.” Hayami playfully replied with a giggle but she toyed with her hair. “Its always been my dream to be a June bride, a bit old fashioned nowadays but I can’t help it.”

   “Better than my dream.” Baira shrugged. “But, like, no, really, if you go and get hitched, I think I’d miss you. Gets so dull being around men all the time. Like they just go on and on, like get to the point, mister or you're as bad as us misses.” 

   “I was thinking the same thing the entire time - and I like Akira.” Hayami laughed.

   Baira smirked. She was really taking a liking to this little lady - and not just because it felt good to be tall around one someone shorter than her.

   The two ladies finished up shortly after. And Hayami had to admit, she had really taken a liking to Baira as well. As mean as a woman Queen was, Hayami did miss having another woman about the office, especially one with sharp wit and the like. She was so socially awkward, having someone more extraverted and graceful about, whilst anxiety inducing, was the good sort.

   And the connection didn’t just stop there, oh no, it started and Hayami was having a hard time puzzling out Baira’s intentions. They seemed a little bit more than just friendly. She was a gift giver, it seemed. Only small things here and there and Hayami was making the point to return the tiny favours but some of the things Baira couldn’t help but unload were a bit odd. And none of them were her actual, literal name and whilst that information was out there on the big, bad internet, Hayami wanted to be entrusted with it on Baira’s terms and consent so she would wait.

   Wait whilst holding onto all those bits and bobs that Baira told Hayami reminded her of Hayami.

   Like hand sanitiser in a pink bottle. Cute, cleanly, and convenient. Hayami liked it but she thought it was a little strange. But not as strange as the extravagantly handled coffee mug that Baira had gotten her. The squirrel motif was a bit too on the nose for Hayami, she thought and the pun wasn’t all that great either. And then when Baira handed her the electric toothbrush, Hayami thought she had gotten the picture. 

   Hayami stared at the offending implement rather than the beautiful cityscape view in front of them, “You know,” she said, “if I didn’t know any better, I would say this was an invitation to move in with you. Or at the very least come over.”

   “I was wondering when you would get the picture.” Baira said with a laugh, happily gazing out to said cityscape in front of them but her eyes kept wandering back to Hayami. She was too cute and a lot more fun than the soiree they were both ignoring.

   “Oh.” Hayami murmured.

   “Oh, indeed.” Baira said. “But, well?”

   “Well, what?” Hayami said.

   “I have a key to an apartment I used to own, would you be interested in visiting?” Baira asked.

   “A little, yeah…” Hayami replied, a bit embarrassed and trying to play it coy.

   “Here, another gift then.” Baira said.

   Hayami looked up at Baira, still holding that darn electric toothbrush with one hand and extending out the other, and Baira dropped something in her palm. Her fingers swirled against the skin of Hayami’s palm flirtatiously and Baira gifted her a key complete with a keyring: one of those cow tag-like keyrings and it had writing on it.

   “Thank you.” Hayami mumbled.

   Baira smirked and Hayami had a closer look at the keyring. She blinked. Taki Kyoko. 103, 3F. Hayami’s heart fluttered.

   “I should give you directions there, yeah?” Kyoko asked. “So you don’t get lost, I mean, this party’s pretty boring and I was the bookworm in uni who never went anywhere but even this shindig’s boring me.”

   “I’d like that, thank you.” Hayami replied with a blush in her cheeks.

[gingrrfrog]

these nights (12)

word count: 5.9k

warnings: none 

summary: jaemin has to deal with the consequences of a promotion he never asked for--both professionally and personally 

Jaemin wasn’t allowed at executive meetings, and for good reason. When he first started, he initially got into a lot of trouble with his brother because he spoke over their father during a meeting, which often led to a slap on the cheek from the older man. Jaehyun begged, pleaded Jaemin to hold his tongue just once, but Jaemin never once listened.

For that reason, their father demoted Jaemin from capo to a regular soldier, banning him from joining any executive meetings as well as being promoted. Jaemin didn’t care either way, he and his father never saw eye to eye anyway.

Even after his father died and Jaehyun took over, the same rules applied. Jaemin had no interest in attending executive meetings as he found that the relationship between him and his brother improved the less he was involved in upper tier involvement. However, since Jeno was injured, he found himself in his place, sitting in what he assumed was his spot as Yuta and Mark sat in their own spots, chatting mindlessly about the weather as if nothing was happening.

They seemed to be handling whatever this was better than him, despite his brother being next to them with a somber look to his face while he whispered to Johnny. Jaemin tried to make sense of what they were saying, but it didn’t work; Jaemin wasn’t able to read lips like Jaehyun could. Instead, he waited for Jaehyun o turn and face the table, sighing heavily as he ran his hand through his greasy, unkept hair.

“Alright,” he started, his voice traveling through the room. “I want to make this quick, I have a flight to catch soon.”

Jaehyun reached in the envelope and began taking photos of Jeno in a wrecked car out, Jaemin’s eyebrows furrowing as he took one in hand and studied it closely.

“A week ago, I got an envelope full of these pictures. Most of the were of Jeno before, during, and after wreck. High def photos as you can see, many of them before he was picked up by the ambulance and before he was found by Mark.” Jaehyun rubbed the underside of his chin, glancing at Jaemin, “the next night, I got a phone call from Jaem that someone had broken into their house. No sign of forced entry, so they knew the key code, or they found another way in. Nothing was taken, no one was hurt.”

“Last night, someone broke in to my home while Jihyun and the housekeeper were still here. No one heard anything, Jihyun didn’t even know someone was in the house until I told her. They left a stuffed animal in my daughter’s nursery,” Jaehyun threw said stuffed animal on the table. Yuta took it into his hands immediately. “He said it was a gift for my baby. I asked him who he was, to which he only replied he was sent by someone named the Whisperer. He said he wanted to protect Jeno, Jihyun, and the baby.”

“Jeno?” Jaemin repeated.

Jaehyun nodded, “I asked them what he wanted with him, but he just repeated what he said before. I took him out, I took off his mask and his face was burned beyond recognition. I thought maybe he wouldn’t have fingerprints either, which I was right about, but he didn’t have a hand and the hand he did have the fingerprints were burned off.”

“You don’t know anything about someone with burns and without a hand?” Mark asked.

“It couldn’t have been something I did, he looked way older than me.”

“Maybe your father? Grandfather?” Yuta pressed, his eyes glued on the stuffed animal.

“I don’t have a clue. The one thing I know is that this Whisperer has a hard-on for dogs.”

“The best thing about dogs is the they’re loyal no matter who you kill,” Jaemin read out loud, flipping the photo around. “Are they talking about Jeno?”

“I think so.”

“Jeno told Jaehyun and Jaemin last night that he didn’t get most of his injuries from the car accident,” Johnny interjected. “He told Jaehyun that he was taken first, barked at by both people and real dogs. He doesn’t remember how he got out.”

“Cool. So we’re dealing with a furry,” Mark scoffed. “Hyung, do you have any idea how insane this sounds?”

“Why did you think I called you here, Mark?”

“It sounds insane to all of us,” Jaemin reassured with a grumble. He looked at Jaehyun, his eyes slightly narrowed, “why didn’t you tell us about the photos earlier?”

“What good would that have done, Jaemin?”

Jaemin shrugged, noticing Yuta finally looking up from the stuffed animal with his eyes widened.

“Uh, Jaehyun?”

Jaehyun quickly walked to Yuta’s side, watching the older man pull out a heart shaped dog tag.

“…it says Hyerim,” Mark said quietly, looking up at Jaehyun.

Jaemin watched as Jaehyun’s neck turned red, his ears quickly matching the color. Jaemin took the dog tag in his own hands, noticing his niece’s name etched out in gold cursive. Jaehyun took a slow deep breath, his hand gripping the back of his head.

“Mark, look into any records on your side about this. Call everyone, every single person in your contacts.”

“Every politician, Kun, Xuxi, the goddamn Russians, I don’t fucking care,” he seethed. “I want him here, in a week. Do you understand? I want him here by the time I get back from New York.”

“Hyung, how are we going to find him we—"

“Did I fucking stutter, Mark Lee?”

Mark swallowed and shook his head, “No, Hyung.”

“Good. I didn’t think I did,” Jaehyun said quickly waving them off. “Leave. Dismissed.”

Yuta and Mark got up from their spots and walked towards the door robotically. Mark made brief eye contact with Jaemin, to which the latter grimaced and nodded. Jaemin was the only one who remained, watching his brother scrape at his scalp as he stared at the dog tag on the table.

Jaemin looked up at Johnny before he walked towards Jaehyun, sitting on the table, “Jaehyun hyung, is there something you need me to do?”

“I need your help, Jaem. Not just as your boss, but as your brother.”

“Anything.”

“I need someone under me, Jaemin,” he said gently, his hand on his shoulder. “Johnny hyung can only do so much without jeopardizing his position as my lawyer.”

“I need someone to take care of Jihyun while I’m gone, I need someone to take charge while I’m away. Not just now, but in the future…just in case something happens to me before we go straight.”

Jaemin furrowed his eyebrows, “I don’t…think I understand.”

“I’m making you underboss, Jaemin.”

Jaemin was sure that if he bit any harder on his tongue he would draw blood. He scanned over Jaehyun’s face to find any trace of a joke, just the smallest of signs for him to laugh it off. He failed to find any humor on his face as it was ridden with worry.

Jaemin swallowed, “but, Dad said I—"

“Dad’s dead, Jaemin. I’m boss now.”

“Don’t you think Mark hyung or Taeil hyung could do it better? I don’t think I can be underboss-“

The switch from worried brother to boss was made effortlessly, Jaehyun’s eyebrows lowering as his eyes narrowed slightly, “are you rejecting me, Jaemin?”

Jaemin shook his head, “no, sir.”

“I can’t trust anyone else, Jaemin. I need you to do this for me.”

Jaemin tried his best to mute the fear in his stomach. He didn’t like the idea of being underboss, sure, that was a given. But he also didn’t like the feeling that all of this was rushed, as if Jaehyun were planning something bigger than just making him underboss. Regardless, Jaemin nodded his head and held his brother’s hand, “I’ve got it.”

“Thank you,” Jaehyun looked at his watch before squeezing his hand. “I have to go, text me if you have any questions. Johnny hyung should help you answer most of them though.”

There was still so much Jaemin wanted to ask. He wanted to know why choose him when there were so many others that were willing to pledge their loyalty? He wanted to ask for a crash course in organized crime like he hadn’t lived his entire life in it. Jaemin watched him open the door to the office before he called out for his brother.

“Hyung.”

Jaehyun stopped in his tracks, “yeah?”

What if I mess up? What if I get someone we love killed? Do you really trust me this much? What if I ruin everything you worked for?

“Be...safe.”

Jaehyun gave him a weak smile, closing the door behind him as Jaemin fell in his brother’s chair. The weight of the world already felt like it was crashing on his shoulders, wondering how his brother had to deal with this every miserable day. Jaemin looked up at Johnny again, making awkward contact.

“Do you think I’ll fuck up?” Jaemin asked, a laugh on a lips as if he was expecting Jaehyun to come back inside and tell him this was just some sick joke.

Johnny shook his head, “you’re smarter than you think, Jaem.”

“I’m not ready for this,” he said quietly, “I don’t know what to do.”

“I’m here to help you. So is your brother and everyone around you. You won’t be alone.”

“Then why do I feel like I am?”

Johnny gave a soft smile, “the top is lonely.”

Jaemin bit his lip, clenching his eyes in frustration before leaving Jaehyun’s chair. “I think we’re done here, hyung. Let’s go home.”

“Are we going to meet here or at your father’s house tomorrow?”

“Here,” Jaemin replied. “I can’t go back there yet.”

It was late when Jaemin got back. The lights in their apartment were turned off all around as he shuffled around their home quietly. Jaemin sighed and dropped his jacket on the nearest couch before walking towards the bedroom, watching Yejin’s sleeping figure on the bed, steady rises and falls of her chest as she slept perfectly curled in the middle of the bed. Jaemin smiled to himself, kissing her hair before moving to the bathroom to wash out.

Even after his shower Jaemin couldn’t find the ease to fall asleep just yet. Instead, he laid on his side of the bed, watching Yejin sleep as he ran his fingertips ever so lightly across her face. He thought it was funny that she was sleeping so prettily today, especially since there were nights were Yejin was snoring rather unattractively. He laughed to himself at his joke, small shakes of his chest that Yejin recognized as life in her sleep. Like second nature, she fastened her arms around his waist immediately, breathing deeply.

He didn’t sleep at all that night, his fingers tracing over her spine as he thought of his next steps. He heard his phone vibrate next to him at around five thirty, noticing all the documents Johnny sent him in one fell swoop. His shoulders dropped, sighing heavily and reading over them.

By his last email, it was eight thirty, and Yejin was nearing the end of her sleep cycle judging by the way she was stirring in his arms. Jaemin felt dizzy, but he still didn’t feel tired, watching Yejin sit up in confusion and look around the room.

“Hey,” she yawned, leaning in to give Jaemin a kiss, “good morning.”

“Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

Yejin nodded, tucking stray hairs behind her ear, “I guess I was sleepier than I thought last night. I didn’t even hear you come home.”

“It was pretty late, around midnight.”

“Everything go okay?” She asked, running her fingers through his hair. Jaemin smiled and nodded, kissing her finger tips.

“Everything is okay.”

Yejin returned his smile, “do you want to go get some breakfast?”

“I’m not too hungry, I think I’ll have some coffee and go.”

“Go?” She pouted, “where are you going?”

“Work.”

Yejin whined, pulling his arm until Jaemin hovered over her, “don’t go to work. Quit so you can stay home and cuddle me.”

Jaemin laughed, snuggling his head in her neck and pressing kisses there, “I wish I could. Special orders from up top, though.”

Jaemin supposed he was “up-top” now. Regardless, Yejin knew that she couldn’t ignore his orders but still held Jaemin close to her chest. It was then when exhaustion crept up his spine and settled heavily in his head, a yawn forcing its way through his mouth. Yejin scratching his back didn’t help one bit, rubbing his back as she whispered in his ear.

“Take an hour nap,” she offered. “I know you didn’t get any sleep last night so take an hour and I’ll wake you up.”

“An hour turns into four when you’re timing them.”

Yejin shook her head, “no, I’m going to watch an hour of something on Netflix and I’ll wake you up, I promise. I know you have work to do.”

Jaemin could help it. His eyelids beat him faster than he could protest, falling heavy against each other as he dreamt of coconut shampoo and peach bodywash.

He woke up an hour later, as Yejin promised, but he felt more disgusting now than if he hadn’t taken a nap. He peeled himself off Yejin’s chest with a groan, rolling on his back and feeling a kiss on his forehead. He smiled and pulled her closer, a much sweeter, deeper kiss being shared between the two.

“Remember the coffee machine Jihyun unnie bought us?”

Jaemin let out a grunt in acknowledgment.

“It’s Bluetooth enabled, you can make coffee from bed.”

“Unnecessary,” he mumbled.

“It’s unnecessary until I tell you your iced americano should be done, all it needs is the ice.”

Jaemin peeked from an eyelid, “maybe it isn’t unnecessary.”

Yejin snorted, “go brush your teeth. Your breath can’t taste like coffee and morning breath.”

He laughed and rolled off from bed, walking to the bathroom to brush said teeth. Yejin walked to the kitchen to prepare the iced americano in question, pouring water in the cup and ice before snapping the lid on to hand it to her boyfriend. He pouted, noticing how clear it was in comparison to how many extra shots he would usually put in. Yejin shook her head, pushing him towards the door.

“That’s enough espresso, you psycho. If you’re still sleepy, eat some breakfast for energy and take a nap for lunch,” she scolded. “You can’t be drinking that much caffeine, it’s not good for you.”

“Yes, Mom,” Jaemin moaned. He looked at his watch and frowned, pulling Yejin in for another kiss. “I’ve got to go; I’ll probably be home late tonight too.”

“That’s okay, I’ll be with Jeno in the hospital tonight anyway. Come if you have the energy but go home to sleep if you’re tired.”

“I’ll text you,” he replied, giving her one last kiss.

Yejin hummed in reassurance as Jaemin left, his car keys in one and the straw in between his teeth, sipping at his coffee aggressively. He was finished with it by the time he made it to the car, tossing the lid to the side as he chewed on ice on the way to Jaehyun’s house.

Upon rounding the corner, he saw Johnny’s car parked in front, sat inside as Jaemin parked next to him and locking the door.

Johnny got out of the door next, grinning at Jaemin as he bowed, “good morning, boss.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Johnny laughed, following him inside the house.

“What? What’s funny?”

“Your brother hates when I call him boss too.”

There wasn’t much of a difference between what Jaehyun and Jaemin did (paperwork wise) is what Jaemin quickly noticed. He flew through documents easily, his hand resting on his chin as calculated numbers quickly in his head, handing the same document at the end to Johnny to correct him.

It was active boss work that made Jaemin nervous. Presenting himself as the authority figure made him nervous, which was why he brought Mark with him. Mark was always eager to remind people who was in charge, as his bright, boyish face shouldn’t be used to underestimate what he was capable of. Mark had killed, perhaps, twice as many people Jeno has, maybe more if he included the ones before he was involved.

Jaemin and Mark rarely worked together as they were two parts of a different sector, Jaemin focusing more on the logistical build of the group as Mark focused on reinforcement more often than not. For that reason alone is why Jaemin found Mark to be perfect to bring to his first warehouse check, the new made boss fidgety on their drive there.

“You don’t got to worry about anything, Jaem!” Mark tried to soothe him, “these guys are a bunch of low-classlosers. They hear anything about a Jung brother coming in and their assholes turn to this-“

Mark made a fist with his hand as Jaemin tried to laugh off the lewd expression.

Warehouses were in charge of almost everything Jaehyun helped export. Cocaine from Colombia, Weapons from Ireland, as well as contraband to North Korea and Northern Chinese ports. Jaehyun ran a tight ship, and Jaemin could see the work he put into it once he saw the scale.

Jaemin took a deep breath as he walked inside, two men bowing at Mark and Jaemin as he stepped foot on concrete floors, watching men bustling inside with boxes in their arms.

All Jaemin had to do today was talk to the warehouse owner, discuss route management and how everything was doing, and collecting invoices. Mark led him up the stairs to an office with a clear window, a fat, middle age man sitting in an unorganized desk.

Mark made his entrance first, a sincere smile on his face, “Youngsil, this is Jae-“

“Na Jaemin, what’s a pretty face like him doing here?” Youngsil’s voice rasped from cigarette abuse as his office reeked of chicken grease and tobacco.

“I’m filling in for my brother,” he said simply, sitting down in front of Youngsil with a small smile.

“You? That adorable!” Youngsil laughed. Jaemin smiled, looking at Mark who had his hands clasped together. Mark returned his smile, lifting up one finger.

Strike one.

“I’m sure you think so,” Jaemin cleared his throat. “I’m only here for a moment. I just wanted to recollect some data for this month’s profit.”

“I’ve got ‘em. The invoices, I know. Your brother told me about ‘em last week.” Youngsil appeared to have just finished his breakfast, licking his fingers off some sauce before reaching for his paperwork. Jaemin tried to conceal his disgust.

“Here we go,” he sighed, leaning over, “we got the shipment from the Colombians earlier this month. Everything looked smooth, 15 kilos like we asked.”

Jaemin nodded, “anything from Mexico?”

“Just a few kilos of weed, we don’t really buy from them anymore, the stuff smells like shit and kids aren’t as interested in it anymore,” Youngsil waved his hand. “Kids like coke. It’s a constant.”

Jaemin nodded, “shipments up north? How do the routes look?”

“Fine,” he reassured, reaching into his desk to pull out a cigarette. He offered one to Jaemin, but he politely refused. “You look a lot like your dad, you know that? Maybe more than your older brother.”

“I…get that a lot.” Jaemin blinked, “anyway-“

“How long are you going to pretend to be boss for, Jaemin?” Youngsil asked, taking a deep drag of his cigarette and exhaling with a greasy grin. “Is it fun playing dress up?”

Jaemin kept a smile on his face, and silently rose two fingers so that Mark could see. Strike two. “For a week. Maybe longer.”

“It suits you,” Youngsil nodded. “You really look like Jungmo, it’s kind of funny that Jaehyunie doesn’t.”

“Different mothers, I suppose, have that effect.”

Youngsil shook his head, “you know his mom was a prostitute, right?”

Jaemin swallowed, “the invoices...”

“Between you and me, I don’t think Jaehyun was even Jungmo’s. His mom was a real dime piece, cheaper than the next doll, but her ass—“

“Thank you.” Jaemin interrupted, “for the invoices. I’m very busy, as you understand.”

Youngsil watched Jaemin rise from his seat, “oh. I get it. No problems.”

Jaemin pressed his lips together in a forced smile before he left, pulling Mark aside and glaring at the him, “get rid of him. Now.”

Mark nodded, “wait in the car. I’ll be back.”

Jaemin bounced down the steps, invoices rolled in his hands as he didn’t even flinch from the sound of the gun in the background. Several men looked behind them and at Jaemin, going back to work as he heard Mark in the background call for two random workers to help him move Youngsil.

Jaemin sat alone in the car, fuming silently and noticing his phone ring. He quickly answered it, rolling his eyes at the sound of his brother tsking,

“Day one in the job and you already got rid of one of my guys,” Jaehyun playfully scolded.

“How did you know?”

“Word travels faster than light in this job, Jaem.” Jaehyun said, “I’m glad you did it though, it would’ve looked personal from my end.”

“It was personal.”

“Well, he’s dead. It’s not like anyone will find out.”

“How’s New York?”

“Just landed. It’s awful, as always. I don’t understand how Jihyun likes it here,” he grumbled. “I was on my way to meet Taeil hyung for a late dinner when I got the call. You’re doing better than I thought.”

Jaemin scoffed, “it’s been four hours.”

“Better than my first four,” Jaemin could hear his brother’s smile. “Have you gone to see Jihyun at all yet?”

“Not yet, I’ll be on my way after this.”

“Don’t let her see you mad. She’s better at perceiving than you think.”

“Is there anything you want me to tell her when I get there?”

“Just that I landed safe. I’ll call her tomorrow, around 8 am for you.”

“Okay.”

“Jaem?”

“What?”

“You’re doing great.”

Jaemin snorted, “are you going to tell me you love me next?”

“Do you want me to?”

Jaemin rolled his eyes, “I’ll call you later.”

“Text me. I will be asleep.”

Jaemin hung up first, looking at Mark walk around the car and fall inside out of breath. Jaemin laughed.

“You okay, hyung?”

“He’s like, fucking three hundred pounds. It took me four guys to just get him down the stairs,” Mark breathed deeply. “You know you have to replace him, right?”

“I’ll do that tomorrow.” Jaemin said, “do you know where Jihyun noona’s house is?”

It had been a good amount of years since Jaemin last stepped foot in Jihyun’s home. The last time was probably when he last picked up Jisung from being babysat, Jisung being only five at the time. The house hasn’t changed that much since then, Jaemin observed, waving Mark away as he walked to the front door.

He stood at the front door and rang the doorbell, waiting for a maid to let him inside before he took of his shoes at the front door. The slippers he originally used as a child were too small for him now, but they were still tucked away in the cubby along with Jisung’s tiny toddler ones. Jaemin smiled at the sentiment, walking through the hallways to look for Jihyun, finding her sat in the kitchen with her mother.

Park Eunhye was a small thin woman, her eyes widening at his appearance as she ran over to hug her son-in-law’s brother, patting him on the back, “is this Jaeminie? Look at how big he is!”

Jaemin laughed bashfully, returning her hug tightly, “you should see Jisung.”

Eunhye shook her head, “no! I’ll cry if I see that Jisung is any taller than my waist.”

“He’s taller than Jaemin, Mommy.” Jihyun smiled, “he and Jaehyun are about the same height.”

Eunhye frowned, “you were this big the last time I saw you! You were with Jeno! I’ve seen him recently, he’s so handsome.”

“We live together, so I see him everyday,” Jaemin smiled, rubbing her shoulders, “he’s not that handsome. Not as cute as me, at least.”

Eunhye smiled, patting his back, “you’re very cute, jaemin.”

“Mommy, can you leave Jaemin and I alone for a moment? Please?”

Eunhye made a face but nodded regardless, patting Jaemin on the back and leading him to a chair, mentioning to make himself comfortable. Jaemin smiled and thanked her quietly before she left, looking at Jihyun with smirk.

“Do you think she thinks I’m cuter than Jaehyun hyung?”

Jihyun snorted, “no. No one is prettier than Jaehyun in her eyes, not even her real sons.”

Jaemin laughed, “fair enough.”

“So then, what brings you around to my home?” Jihyun looked at his feet and playfully frowned, “I see you’re not wearing the special slippers I bought you.”

“The special slippers you bought me when I was seven, you mean?”

“I said you would grow into them!”

“I did, but I grew out of them now,” Jaemin teased. “Either way, I’m here because-“

“Jaehyun sent you? I know.”

“Then why ask?”

Jihyun shrugged, taking a sip out of her tea, “I wanted to see if you were going to lie.”

“It’s nearly impossible to lie to you, you’re annoyingly perceptive.”

“And I’m only your sister-in-law, imagine having me as your wife.”

“I think I’d end my life.”

Jaemin winced when Jihyun slapped his shoulder, pouting as he rubbed the spot, “Yejin already hit me there the other day.”

“For good reason, I imagine,” she grinned. “How is she doing? And Jeno?”

“They’re both fine. Jeno spends most of his time sleeping and complaining about the cable the hospital has, but, Yejin is there to help him not go insane. The days neither of us are there drive him insane I think, talking to random workers of ours.”

“Does he know about what happened the other day with the intrusion?”

Jaemin shook his head, a grimace on his face, “no. Not yet. I don’t know how to tell him without overwhelming him.”

“I think you’re going to overwhelm him either way, Jaem. The sooner you tell him, the more you’re going to be able to have his input. I have a suspicion you haven’t told him you’re underboss either.”

“How did you know that?”

“I snoop. It’s the only way Jaehyun tells me anything.”

“And he lets you get away with that?”

“Sometimes he scolds me about it, sometimes he doesn’t. I think he wanted me to know about it that time though.”

“How can you tell?”

“He left his phone opened on the messages with Johnny oppa.”

Jaemin blinked, “how do you know he didn’t just forget to lock it?”

Jihyun made a face, “no, that’s too easy.”

“Men have a one-track mind and you think Jaehyun hyung did it on purpose?” Jaemin scoffed, “you’re insane.”

“Regardless of how I found out,” Jihyun interrupted, “he also asked me what I thought about it the other day.”

“And what did you say?”

“I thought it was a good idea.”

“Why?”

Jihyun shrugged, “it has to be you, Jaem.”

Jaemin scrunched his nose at the lackluster answer. He looked at his fingernails before he said anything else, sighing deeply, “I think you’re the third person to tell me that today.”

“If you haven’t told Jeno I’m imagining you haven’t told Yejin either?”

“Nope. Not yet. I have a feeling she’s going to tell me that same thing…as well as freak out all night,” Jaemin tapped his nails on the countertop, “how do you think she’s going to react?”

“Not well, if you ask me. I didn’t react well when Jaehyun told me he was underboss all those years ago. But you could be pleasantly surprised.”

“I doubt it.”

“How ever you decide to tell her, I’m sure she’ll support you. You have to make the effort to take care of her though, I can see it being a lot for her, mentally.”

Jaemin remembered the conversation Yejin and he had when they argued that night, remembering how Yejin revealed how she worried constantly for Jeno and Jaemin. That was when Jaemin’s official position was a meager, crooked accountant. He didn’t want to imagine the mental implications of an underboss.

“Hey,” Jihyun said gently, resting her hand on his shoulder. “I didn’t mean to freak you out, Jaemin.”

“You didn’t freak me out. Nothing you said wasn’t true, I’m just…planning, I guess.”

Jihyun let out a soft laugh, “you and your brother have the same face when you overthink. I think it’s funny.”

“Who do you think looks more like our dad?” Jaemin asked suddenly, causing Jihyun to blink, “me or Jaehyun hyung?”

“Jaehyun,” she said without question. “It kind of freaks me out sometimes.”

Jaemin nodded, “that’s what I thought too.”

After lunch with Jihyun, Jaemin was picked up by Johnny to drive back to Jaehyun’s house. He had sent Johnny home about an hour ago, leaving him alone in the office as Jaemin packed up his things and put away the paperwork for the day. He glanced over at the photos Jaehyun placed all over his desk, smiling at the photo of him and Jihyun on their vacation before she got pregnant. There were pictures of all four of Johnny’s kids sitting next to a picture of the three brothers at Jisung’s middle school graduation.

The picture was taken weeks after their father died, Jaehyun trying his best to hide his fatigue and depression under a bright smile. Anyone could’ve looked at the photo and seen three brothers celebrating, but no one would’ve ever been able to guess that Jaehyun barely got any sleep the night before, barely peeling himself off a bender to attend his youngest brother’s graduation severely hungover. Jisung hadn’t noticed as Jaehyun sprayed himself to the nines full of cologne to hide the smell of alcohol, he was only happy that his brother remembered, also not knowing that Jaemin was the one to kick his brother awake before then.

It was a week after that that Jaehyun stopped drinking, deeming himself sober from alcohol and cigarettes a year after that.

Jaemin wondered why he picked this picture out of all the ones they had, especially since there were so many other pictures of the three of them where Jaehyun was happier and much healthier. Jaemin made a mental note to ask him about it later, when he was in a better mood. When this was all over.

Jaemin got up from his spot and locked the office door behind him, swinging the house keys in his hands as he walked to his own car, stepping inside and driving towards the hospital. He left Jaehyun’s house at around 9:30 and arrived at the hospital parking lot at 9:53, locking the car behind him as he made his way towards the entrance, past the welcome desk, and to the ICU unit, where he found himself in a strangely good mood.

Jeno looked to be asleep when he entered the room, Yejin laying her head close to his side and watching the TV on the other side, somewhat paying attention to the variety show on. Jaemin closed the door to make his presence known, Yejin’s head lifting up with a smile as she walked towards him.

“Hi,” she greeted with a kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck. Jaemin smiled and returned her kiss, wrapping his arms around her waist as she stood on the tips of her toes to give him another kiss.

���Hi,” he replied with a smile. “Is he asleep?”

“He’s taking a nap, I don’t think he’s going to wake up tonight though.”

“He will, and then he’ll complain that he woke up at 2 am,” Jaemin laughed, kissing her forehead.

“How was work?” She asked once they were settled on the armchair, Yejin sat on his lap as she played with his fingers.

“It was…work. I went to go check on Jihyun noona for lunch.”

“Yeah? How is she?”

“A little bored, Jaehyun hyung left for work in New York so she’s at her parents place ’til he comes back.”

“Is this another one of your brother’s overprotective measures?”

Jaemin laughed, “I don’t think so. I actually kind of agree with this one.”

Are you going to do the same with me when you and Jeno are gone for work? Send me off?”

Jaemin snorted, “not to be rude, but where am I going to send you off to?”

Yejin pursed her lips, “sometimes I forget I don’t have parents.”

Jaemin laughed again, much heartier, “yeah, me too.”

They were quiet for a moment, listening to Jeno’s steady breathing as Jaemin thought of what to say next. He rubbed her knuckles with his thumb before he pulled away to make eye contact.

“Yejin, I have to talk to you.”

“About?”

“I haven’t told Jeno this yet, so if he wakes up right now, it’ll be poor timing…maybe I should wait actually that might—“

“You’re rambling, baby,” Yejin kissed his hair, “it’s okay, just say it.”

“I’ve been promoted.”

“Oh.” Yejin pulled away to look at her boyfriend, “that’s good…right? That’s a good thing?”

“I guess. I’m not Jeno’s co anymore, but I’m not my own capo either.”

Yejin looked at her fingertips, counting on her fingers to try and remember all the positions, “so then? What are you?”

“Underboss. Jaehyun’s direct successor if something were to happen to him.”

Yejin’s eyebrows furrowed together, sitting up in Jaemin’s lap, “what?”

Jaemin bit his lip, “that’s why the meeting took so long yesterday. Jaehyun hyung made it official.”

“What does that mean?” She asked carefully, studying Jaemin’s face, “what now, Jaemin?”

“Well, for one, I’m acting boss until he comes back.”

Jaemin took the time to watch her react. He watched her eyebrows relax as confusion swirled in her eyes. She opened her mouth, once, twice, and a third time before she shook her head, “sorry, boss?”

“Yeah. Just until Jaehyun hyung comes back, then he’ll train me properly, or something like that. Until then, I’m just supposed to…survive, I guess? Johnny hyung was with me today, but I’ll be on my own tomorrow.”

“Jaem…”

“I know.” Jaemin cleared his throat, “if…you want to leave me-“

“Don’t be stupid, Jaemin. If I left you I’d have to leave Jeno too.”

“So you’re with me because you don’t want to leave Jeno?”

Yejin rolled her eyes, effectively ignoring his comment, “I’m not leaving, Jaemin. I just wish you would’ve told me last night so I could’ve eased the weight on your shoulders right now, baby.”

“I’ll sleep like a rock tonight, at least. I couldn’t sleep last night because I was worried about telling you.”

“Why?”

Jaemin shrugged, “I don’t know. I don’t want you to worry about me more than you already do. Not to mention, I’ll be gone more after this is over, especially when Jaehyun hyung comes back home.”

“I’m going to worry either way, but,” Yejin took Jaemin’s face in her hands, kissing the tip of his nose, “thank you for telling me. It means more that it came from you instead of someone else.”

“Of course.”

“Does Jeno know?”

Jaemin shook his head, “I don’t think he knows. Should we wake him up?”

Yejin shook her head next, holding Jaemin close, “no. Let’s let him sleep a little longer.”

Jaemin nodded, relishing in her touch as he closed his eyes next.

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[shipmistress9]

HW2020 -- 5: Buying Flowers For Each Other

Part 5 of my Hiccstrid Week Project.

t-rated; RTTE-canon-verse

This one, I had a lot of fun with! 😁 Partially because of the scenes and conversations themselves, but also because of a certain headcanon that wormed its way into this prompt/one-shot which affects how I feel about many things.

I hope you’ll enjoy it! :)

(Also, linking back to the master post for all the wonderful additions 😊)

. o O o .

“So, any ideas what you’re getting for her this year?”

Hiccup grimaced at Snotlout's question. “What do you mean?” he asked, aiming for nonchalance. He knew exactly what Snot meant, but he didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of playing his game. 

“Uh, Astrid’s birthday, I guess,” Fishlegs helpfully threw in. “It’s in two weeks.”

Hiccup sighed. “Is that so?” As if he would ever forget that. 

“I wonder why I ever bothered thinking about you as competition,” Snot muttered under his breath, then said in a louder voice. “Well, I know what I’ll get her as a gift. All women love flowers. And jewellery. So that’s what I’ll get for her. The biggest bouquet of flowers you can imagine and the most special bracelet you’ve ever seen. She’ll fall in love with me right away, you’ll see.” And with a last sneer in Hiccup’s direction, he left the clubhouse. 

“‘The most special bracelet we’ve ever seen’?” Hiccup repeated, his eyebrows furrowed in puzzlement. “And flowers?”

Fishlegs nodded, eager to share what he knew. "Oh, yes. Snot's been talking about little else lately. Apparently, he asked Johann to get him the most ostentatious bracelet he can find. I wonder what it'll be. Can you imagine the wonders foreign cultures may produce? I can't wait to see it!"

Bemused, Hiccup blinked at his friend but then decided not to say anything. Maybe Snot should give that bracelet to Fishlegs instead, he certainly would appreciate it more than Astrid. 

Or so Hiccup hoped at least.

Because even though he'd been aware of her upcoming birthday for weeks already, he still had no idea what to give her for this occasion. He wanted it to be something special, something she'd truly appreciate, something unique. But no matter how much he thought about it, nothing would come to his mind that felt right. 

The only thing he knew was that Snot's ideas sucked. Because Astrid wasn't like all women. She was special and unique in her own ways, so strong and independent, a warrior. The only worth flowers had to her were when they had any practical healing effects or the petals could be used as a dye. And jewellery? That wasn't her thing at all. Any elaborate adornments would only get in the way during fighting. Sure, she owned a few pieces, a pretty comb for her hair and a brooch to go with it. But those were family heirlooms, pieces she valued because of their meaning and not because they were 'pretty'.

No, there really was no need to worry about how Astrid would receive Snot's gifts, not about any meaningless jewellery and certainly not about some flowers either. But that didn't change that Hiccup still had no idea what to get for her…

. o O o .

Hiccup was still scouring his mind for a suitable gift for Astrid when they all flew back to Berk a few days later. He thought about looking through Trader Johann's goods himself but directly ruled that idea out again. True, sometimes he brought interesting things… but somehow, Hiccup felt like that wouldn't do. The friendship between him and Astrid had evolved and grown since they were living on Dragon's Edge, so she deserved something more personal.

As soon as they'd landed and greetings were dealt with, he headed over to Gobber's forge – or, more precisely, toward his old workshop. 

"Okay, let's see what we have here," he muttered to himself as he pulled out a stack of papers and let them drop onto the desk. There were so many things he'd invented during the rather lonely years before he'd met Toothless, so many ideas he'd come up with but hadn't pursued further beyond making simple sketches. There just had to be something sensible, something he could refine during the next days, something more personal and useful than a big bouquet of flowers. The thought alone made Hiccup roll his eyes. 

Humming to himself, he sifted through the papers, getting out a second and eventually a third stack. It was a fun walk down memory lane that often made him smile fondly or laugh at his younger self. Some of these ideas were absurd. However, once he’d looked through all three stacks and had hunted out every other loose sheet of paper he could find, he had to admit to himself… that he still had nothing. 

Astrid had no need of a splintered twig that could hold a piece of coal. He'd designed that one for his dad once, to keep his hands from getting too messy when he took notes for his chiefing duties. But Stoick had never used it; the twig had broken between his meaty fingers almost instantly. And she also didn't need that utterly ridiculous sword-axe-mace-thing he'd designed when he was thirteen and thought all he would need to get her attention was a cool weapon.

No, none of these sometimes bizarre inventions would work as a gift for Astrid.

Sighing, he let his head drop down onto the table with a dull thump. “What am I supposed to do?” 

The knock on the door made him jump up with a surprised cry. “Wha-what? Who’s there?” he asked as he hastily pushed his old notes aside. 

To his relief, the door opened to reveal only Gobber, a strange grin on his face. “Is just me, laddy,” the blacksmith announced cheerfully. “I just wanted tae check if yer okay. Heard ye laughin' an' cursin' in here all day.”

Hiccup, who’d gotten up to join his old mentor in the main workshop, blinked at the light falling through the window in surprise. Gobber was right, the sun was already setting.

“I… well, I was just going through my old notes. I hoped to find something... Ah, never mind. I’ll just have to think of something else.” 

Gobber frowned. “Yer sure? Is there a problem ye need help with?”

For a short moment, Hiccup actually considered asking Gobber for help. But he sincerely doubted that the older man would come up with an idea for a sensible gift either. Astrid also didn’t need a hand prosthetic that could be used as a cooking spoon, after all. 

“No, I’ve got this. But thanks,” he said politely. Gobber didn’t seem convinced though, so he quickly changed the subject. “Anyway, how are you? Any news to share? How’s the forge going?”

Gobber gave him a confused look, but then shrugged. “Ah, just the same as ever. Lots of work an' too wee time. Just today, I got five old swords tae recycle intae somethin' useful.”

Out of reflex, Hiccup’s eyes shifted to the pile of metal in a corner. “Do you need my help with anything?” Maybe working with his hands would help unstick his mind. 

“Nae, nothing urgent. But yer always welcome tae work here if ye want.” 

Hiccup nodded. “Alright. I’ll stop by tomorrow as long as nothing else comes up.” Casually, he sifted through the mangled and broken weapons, feeling nostalgic when he recognised a blade or a handle he’d made himself. Then he paused, frowning as his hand lingered over one particular sword. “Is this…?” He threw Gobber a surprised look.

“Huh?” Gobber glanced over and then shrugged. “Aye, that’s Gronkle Iron. Grandpa Larson retired an' young Gustav doesnae want it. ‘Too short’, he said.” He rolled his eyes. “A shame. But aam sure I can fin' a new purpose for that metal.”

Hiccup eyed the sword again, an idea forming in his mind in rapid speed. Grinning broadly, he took the sword and turned toward Gobber again. “Would you mind if I used this metal? I already have an idea.”

. o O o .

“Here, these are for you. Happy birthday, beautiful.”

Astrid looked flabbergasted, and Hiccup really couldn’t blame her. After all, Snot had all but thrown an entire armful of flowers at her the very moment she’d appeared at the clubhouse. 

“What the–” she cursed, dumping the flowers onto the nearest table. “Snotlout, are you out of your mind? What am I supposed to do with these?”

“Ah, don’t be like that,” Snot drawled. "Beautiful flowers for a beautiful lady, that's what these are for.”

Astrid’s hands balled into fists. “Are you serious?” she snarled.”Odin, when the Gods handed out intelligence, you really were hiding in a cave and screamed 'I don't want any!', didn't you?"

Hiccup chocked on his laughter, both at Astrid's comment and Snot's puzzled expression. The twins weren't as considered, bursting out laughing and wiping tears off their faces.

However, Snot wouldn't give up that quickly it seemed.  “Well, no,” he hastily backpaddled. “I mean, of course, no stupid plant will ever outshine you, Astrid. They can only ever compliments your beauty and–"

"Okay, stop right there before I'm getting sick," she interrupted him, visibly shuddering in disgust.

"But it's your birthday, baby!" Snot apparently wasn't done yet.

Hiccup was beginning to enjoy the show, and certainly not least because of how little Astrid obviously cared for Snot's attention. It helped kindle the tentative hope that lately had started blooming in his heart. Maybe, just maybe she felt the same…

"Yes, it's my birthday," Astrid snapped back. "So what? Does that mean I'm obliged to suffer even more of your stupidity?"

Snot gaped at her for a second but then seemed to pull himself together again. "Ah, I know why you're upset. You thought those flowers were your only gift and were disappointed, right? But don't worry, the Snotman is your saviour in every situation.” He snatched the box with the bracelet off the table and held it out to her. “Here, this one’s your true present. Come on, look inside. You’ll love it.”

Astrid took a moment to take a deep calming breath. She rolled her eyes but otherwise stayed clam which, given that Hiccup could see the tension in her jaw, was impressive. “All right, what is it this time, Snot? Let’s get this over with so that I can tell you to shut up and leave me in peace.” She inspected the box and the intricate bow that was bound around it, certainly not by Snow himself but rather by Johann or maybe even the one he’d bought it from. She tugged it open and–

“What, in Loki’s name...” She lifted a note and a simple braided leather cord out of the box, staring at them in disbelief. From where Hiccup stood, he couldn’t make out what exactly was tied into it, only that it was about half a dozen charms, all white and of a rather… phallic form. There was a moment of silence, then... 

“Are you kidding me?” Astrid screeched, turning furious eyes on Snotlout. 

Snot had turned an interesting shade of white, backing away with his hands raised in defence and his eyes switching from Astrid to the bracelet she’d dropped onto the ground and back again. “I… I’m sorry! I didn’t know what– It was Johann’s fault! He–” He seemed to realise that no excuse would save him, stumbling back a step or three before he turned to make a run for it – Astrid hard on his heels. 

“That really is the most special bracelet I’ve ever seen,” Ruff snickered. She’d picked it up and inspected it. “I think those are carved dragon teeth. I never would have thought of giving them this form though.” She held it up for everyone else to see which led to Tuff covering Chicken’s eyes while Fishlegs picked up the note that had fallen to the ground next to the bracelet. 

“Uh, no wonder she was so mad,” he muttered after reading the note. “According to Johann, this is a special talisman from somewhere far in the south. Traditionally, it’s meant as a betrothal or wedding gift and is meant to bless the donor and the receiver with...” he paused, blushing a little, “with fertility and never-ending passion. Johan even added a personal note, wishing Snot good luck and happiness with his bride-to-be.”

Tuff looked up, bewildered. “Wait, what? Snot’s getting married? When? And to who?”

Ruff just burst out laughing. “Oh, Snot is so dead!”

Bemused, Hiccup watched in silence from his place in the back of the room. He wasn’t quite sure what Snot had been thinking, whether he’d been thinking at all, or whether it really had just been Johann’s exaggerated enthusiasm. How could he get her something like this and think she’d like it, how could he misread her signs so thoroughly? 

Or, could it be that…? 

No, he didn’t want to think about the other option; that, maybe, it was Hiccup who was misreading her. Surely, there was something between him and Astrid, something that had developed over the past years, right? He wasn’t as stupid sn Snot for getting his hopes up… right?

He was still brooding, a little worriedly, when Astrid came back. Her body was tense with repressed anger. “Get that thing out of my sight, Ruff, or I swear I’ll shove it somewhere nobody will ever find it again,” she growled.

Still giggling, Ruff pouched the bracelet. “So, did you kill Snot?” she asked, mirth clear on her face. Apparently, she was enjoying herself greatly.  

Astrid shot her a glare, then let out a defeated sigh as she slumped down on a nearby chair. “No, I didn’t. He flew off before I could reach him, all the while yelling how sorry he was. I just wish… why can’t he leave me in peace, for Odin’s sake?”

“Same reason Legs would never leave Meatlug and my brother takes Chicken with him wherever he goes,” Ruff prompted, grinning. Both boys looked at her in clear confusion.

Astrid growled at her but then paused when her eyes fell on another box lying on the table in front of her. It was only adorned with a rather simple bow, but it was enough to identify it as another present. Hiccup wished he could rush forward and snatch it away, not wanting to annoy her further, but it was too late.

“And what’s this?” she asked, her voice saturated with annoyance. “If that moron got me even more, then...” She let the threat trail off and grabbed the box.

“No, that’s from–” Fishlegs began but got cut off by Hiccup frantically shaking his head. If she got this angry and annoyed by getting gifts, he rather didn’t want her to know he’d gotten her something, too.

However, Astrid didn’t pay them any mind, eyes fixed on the box’s content. Without a word, she reached inside and lifted one of the two objects out, inspecting it. It was a dagger, sleek and sharp, perfectly balanced, the handle wrapped in practical leather. It was elegant in its simplicity – if Hiccup was allowed to think so himself. What Astrid thought, however, he had no idea.

Mutely, she stood up and walked over to where he stood, her eyes not leaving the sharp blade until she stood right in front of him. “You made this.” It wasn’t a question. She knew his handiwork to well not to recognise it. 

Gulping, Hiccup nodded. “Both of them,” he mumbled, hoping she wasn’t about to gut him. The old sword had been big enough to turn it into two daggers, and while he’d worked away in Gobber’s forge, making them had felt like a fantastic idea. Now, he wasn’t so sure anymore. 

Astrid shook her head, gaze dropping back to the dagger in her hand and face twitching. “A Gronkle Iron dagger,” she murmured. “Two even.” 

“You… you once said you’d want one…” he mumbled, feeling more stupid with every passing moment. That had been ages ago, he should have known better.

Again, she shook her head, but when she looked up again, there was surprise in her eyes, even something like a smile on her face. “You remembered?” she asked. “I… I didn’t think…” She trailed off, her face softening into a grateful smile. “Thank you!” 

There was true gratitude in her voice, but Hiccup barely noticed anything anymore as she stretched to press a quick kiss to his cheek; Not Ruff’s snickering, not Fishlegs’ happy smile, and not even the blush on Astrid’s cheeks as she quickly turned away and left. All he knew was that he was grinning like an idiot, his hand rising to brush over where her lips had touched him. 

So, he’d been right after all. Astrid wasn’t the romantic type and getting her flowers of all things would never do.

. o O o .

Aah, I really liked this one! 😊 I hope some of you did, too.

* - . - * - . o O o . - * - . - *

If you want to support me you can buy me a coffee. I love coffee 😊 (Ko-Fi)

[puppywritings]

torn

pairing: lee jeno x male reader x na jaemin word count: 2534 description: when you, a new trainee at sm entertainment, capture the interest of both jeno and jaemin, you find yourself torn between them. requested by: anonymous masterlist

First and foremost, the reason you moved to Korea and auditioned for SM Entertainment was to follow your dreams; to sing and dance, as you had always loved to, and to bring joy to as many people as possible through art. When you received the news of your acceptance, the things weighing on your mind mainly consisted of excitement to improve and learn, and anxiety about the pressures of being a trainee. However, there was something else tugging at your heart, excitement and anxiety all rolled into one: the prospect that you would likely bump into the members of NCT.

NCT were your favourite musicians, your role models. You had been following them since their debut, and you wouldn’t dispute the notion that you were their number one fan. In particular, the Dream unit had caught your eye from the beginning, due in part to the fact that you were around the same age as the members. You had, to put it lightly, completely fallen in love with the group. They were your main inspiration for moving to Korea and pursuing a career as an idol, and you could hardly fathom the idea that you would be training and working in the very same building as them.

Of course, you worked hard to stop them from consuming your thoughts entirely. You had more significant things to busy your mind with; working on your vocals, taking care of your body, getting to know your fellow trainees. In fact, you were so preoccupied in your training that you sometimes went a whole day without thinking about the members of NCT. Wondering how far away they were, whether they were just a few rooms away, whether they had passed in the corridor and heard you singing, whether you might see them in the cafeteria later. You knew you would become very busy, but you never could’ve predicted these levels of intensity. You were definitely up to the challenge, though. The mental and physical stimulation left you shining, and you could feel yourself grow.

Though you felt wonderful, to an outside eye it would certainly look like you were pushing yourself too hard. You stayed in the practice room for hours after everybody else had left, and most days you were the first to arrive too. Dancing alone as the clock crawled towards midnight, it was only natural that you would gather a little bit of attention from people passing through. Inevitable though it may have been, you weren’t any less shocked when you spun around mid-practice to find that somebody had stepped inside the room. The fact that the figure was none other than Lee Jeno only intensified your bewilderment.

“I’m sorry,” he apologised with wide eyes. “I knocked but you didn’t hear me.”

“Right,” you panted, your eyes darting around the room. “The music... it was loud.” You were already sweating from the exertion but you felt it had increased tenfold. Jeno was here. In the same room as you. Speaking to you. He had seen you dance. 

“What are you doing here so late?” he asked you, a slight frown on his lips. You were unsure whether to read this as curiosity or concern, but you tried not to dwell on it. You’d had the biggest crush on Jeno for years, and at this point in your career, you didn’t need it to intensify and interfere with your training.

You cleared your throat, hoping he couldn’t sense your anxiety. And, beyond that, hoping your appearance wasn’t too sweaty and unappealing. You pointedly avoided turning to the mirror behind you; you didn’t need your self-consciousness to rise. “I just wanted to get some extra practice,” you explained.

“I don’t think you need it,” Jeno told you sincerely. “You’re doing really good. I was watching you for a while... I hope you don’t mind.”

“Oh! Um. No, that’s okay.” Every ounce of your energy went into preventing yourself from exploding on the spot. You knew that your cheeks must be burning - you could hardly even believe you were in this situation. “My name is Y/N, by the way.”

He walked forwards, extending his hand which you shook gently, almost flinching at the thought of him having to make contact with your sweat-coated palms. “Jeno,” he returned.

“I know,” you responded instantly, before cursing yourself. Was that a creepy thing to say? You really hoped you hadn’t made anything awkward.

Jeno only chuckled. “Right.” Daring to look up at his face, you saw his signature smile and crinkled eyes. You could’ve melted on the spot. He continued to speak, saving you from forcing out a response. You were thankful - you genuinely didn’t think you could utter a word. Lee Jeno was less than a foot away from you. “You should go home and rest soon,” he advised you. “Exhaustion won’t do you any good.”

You nodded, your heart swelling. Jeno didn’t even know you, yet he spoke with such care. That was just his nature, you knew. He had immense kindness within his heart. 

“I’ll see you around,” he said with a smile before departing. You waved, which was all you could manage. As soon as you heard his footsteps retreat, you collapsed against the wall, sinking down to the floor. That was far too much excitement for your heart.

-

The following morning, as had become routine at that point, you were present in the practice room long before any of your fellow trainees. Most of them were currently either rousing from their sleep or tucking into their breakfasts. You, on the other hand, had risen whilst it was still dark outside, and had abandoned breakfast in favour of a speedier option; a protein shake and a granola bar.

You were yet to begin your actual practice yet, and were still performing some stretches when you heard a knock on the door. As you turned, the door was being pushed open, and you were surprised to find that Jeno had paid you a second visit.

“Jeno!” you exclaimed, your heart beginning to pound right away. “Hi.”

“Hey, Y/N,” he greeted you with the smile that had never failed to melt your heart. “I had a feeling you’d be here early.”

“Oh yeah?” You gave him a wobbly smile, trying not to give away the way your mind raced at the implication that he’d been thinking about you.

He confirmed with a nod. “You seem like the type to overwork yourself.” If he weren’t Lee Jeno, you would’ve rolled your eyes at this. “Anyways,” he continued, “I have a spare frappucino if you want one.” He lifted the tray of drinks in his hand.

"Oh! Sure.” Jeno had bought you a frappucino. Was your life even real at this point? No, you tried to rationalise. He just happened to have a spare one, and you just happened to be there. He probably would’ve given it to the first person he saw. 

Jeno took a seat on the floor, placing the tray down in front of him and taking out one of the drinks. As he slurped his drink loudly, he motioned for you to join him. Breaking out of your trance, you quickly complied.

“So, what’re you doing here so early?” you tried to make conversation. You were immensely thankful that he had arrived before you had the chance to get all sweaty and gross. You’d hate Jeno’s only impression of you to be dirty and tired.

“I have some things I’m working on,” he answered vaguely, leaving you wondering about all of the possibilities. Though you were incredibly busy, you were still keeping yourself up to date on NCT’s activities. Jeno went on with a frown, “I was supposed to be meeting Jaemin, but he hasn’t shown up.”

You accepted his answer with a nod. “Thanks for the drink.” You were incredibly grateful. Though the nearest Starbucks was just around the corner, you couldn’t say you frequented it, merely because it was so much more convenient to visit the cafeteria in the building.

You were startled suddenly, almost jumping out of your skin when the door flung open and a voice called out, “Hey! We were supposed to meet fifteen minutes ago!” Looking up, you saw Jaemin stood before you, and you hoped to death nobody had heard the squeak you emitted.

“Oh,” Jaemin spoke seconds later, directed towards you rather than Jeno this time. “I didn’t see you there. I’m Jaemin.”

“This is Y/N,” Jeno spoke before you could. “I just stopped by to see him before we met. I must’ve lost track of time.” With the earnest look in his eyes, you didn’t know if it was possible for anybody to be annoyed at him.

“Hi,” you smiled nervously at Jaemin. Starstruck as you were upon being introduced to Jaemin, thoughts still ran through your head. Jeno had lied, right? He had told you Jaemin hadn’t shown up, yet he was the only who had missed their meeting time - and he had done so to spend time with you.

“You gave him my Starbucks?” grumbled Jaemin, looking betrayed. Jeno simply shrugged in response, completely void of regret.

“I’m sorry,” you apologised quickly, feeling rather panicked. “I didn’t know it was yours. I can pay you back for it, if you want me to?”

Jaemin dismissed your offer with a wave of his hand. He turned to you with a smile, rather different from the irritated demeanour he carried just moments previously. “Don’t worry about it. I don’t mind buying drinks for cute boys.”

Your choking splutters at this sudden compliment was drowned out by Jeno’s defensive “You never buy me drinks!” and you were incredibly thankful. They bickered for a few moments before Jeno turned to you.

“I guess I’d better go, Y/N,” he told you with a sigh. He extended his arm, patting your knee twice before standing.

“I’ll see you around, Y/N,” Jaemin waved. “It was nice meeting you.”

“You too,” you returned weakly as the boys departed together.

Surely you were imagining things. Surely Jeno and Jaemin hadn’t just been flirting with you. You threw yourself into your practice. If you let your mind remain idle, you knew you would get stuck in these thoughts, which definitely wouldn’t do you any good.

***

You did your very best to ignore the attention that the other trainees threw your way in the following weeks. It was understandable, you had to admit. The quiet, rather withdrawn trainee who doesn’t seem to do very much other than work, suddenly seemed to be friends with Jeno and Jaemin, two members of one of Korea’s most popular idol groups. You were bombarded with questions: When did you become friends with them, how did you guys get so close, what on earth is going on between the three of you? Honestly, you wish you had the answers.

Everything had happened so fast. After your initial meetings with the boys, you found yourself running into them quite frequently, and it rarely felt like a coincidence. Soon enough you had exchanged numbers with them, you were eating lunch with them most days, and even spent time with them at their dorm. It was thrilling, especially at the beginning of your friendship with the boys. You began to grow less starstruck as you got to know the boys and grew more comfortable around them, though. 

One thing you had noted was that you seldom seemed to spend time with only one of them. If you made plans with Jaemin, you would happen to run into Jeno while you were out. If you made plans with Jeno, you happened to get a message from Jaemin, asking to make plans at the exact same time. One thing you were consistent with was relentlessly pushing away fantasies that tried to run riot in your mind. Of course, it was utterly ridiculous that Jeno and Jaemin were both crushing on you, and were fighting for your affections. It was difficult to quell these thoughts, though, as this seemed to be exactly what was happening.

***

It had taken a lot of persuasive effort on Jeno and Jaemin’s part before you agreed to spend the night at Jeno and Jaemin’s dorm. Not only were you incredibly busy, but you were also sick of the other trainees pointing and whispering. You theorised that they had noticed the heart eyes that the two boys were constantly sending your way. It was growing difficult to miss. You still enjoyed their company, though. It went without saying that you were crushing on them both.

The night wouldn’t be anything special, just a casual night. You would watch some movies, and eat takeout. Nonetheless, your excitement had been increasing all throughout the day while you anticipated it. This feeling remained all the way into the evening, when you were sat between Jeno and Jaemin, nestled under a blanket. Jaemin had chosen the movie. A horror film, one you hadn’t seen before. You had to admit, you were being rather brave.

“Just hold my hand if you get scared, Y/N,” Jaemin advised you, puffing his chest.

“Or you could hold my hand,” Jeno offered. “I’ve been told I have very nice hands.”

Jaemin shook his head. “I’m sure he’d rather hold my hand.”

“I don’t know,” Jeno rebutted. “I think he’d enjoy holding my hand.”

“Well-”

“Listen,” you interrupted with a sigh, “There’s something going on here. Right?” You weren’t met with a response, only sheepish looks from both Jaemin and Jeno. You put your head in your hands with a groan. “Can we just talk about this?” Your voice was muffled.

“We both really like you, Y/N,” Jaemin spoke, and you lifted your head.

“I figured,” you mumbled with a nod. “You don’t have to act like children, though. I’m not a toy. You can’t fight over me like this.”

“You’re right,” Jeno sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” Jaemin apologised.

The three of you sat in silence for a few moments, while you built yourself up to speak. “I like you both too. I’m not going to choose between you or anything. I like it when it’s the three of us, and I don’t want to sacrifice the bond we all have.”

“So, we just pretend this conversation never happened?” Jaemin suggested.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “I don’t want to. Like I said, I really like you both.”

Jaemin shook his head. “I don’t know where we can go from here, Y/N.”

“I don’t know if any of us can really have a relationship right now,” Jeno spoke up. “Because of our careers.”

“Then maybe we just see where things go,” you proposed. “No labels. Just the three of us, hanging out.”

There was quiet while the boys considered your words. “That sounds okay to me,” Jeno agreed, while Jaemin nodded alongside him.

“Great,” you beamed. You turned to your left, pressing a kiss to Jeno’s cheek, before going to your right and kissing Jaemin’s temple. “Now, can we finish the movie? I need to see how it ends.” Jeno hit the play button, and Jaemin took hold of your hand. You were feeling pretty damn lucky.

[howtowhumpyourhiccup]

Broken For Her

Summary: Set post-THW (and yet diverges from THW). Some THW spoilers. Light (Fury) was never quite sure what to think of Hiccup, the Night Fury's rider. She got used to his antics, warmed up to his compassionate personality, found herself bewildered with the respect and awe he showed towards dragons, but after a year, there are still plenty of surprises still has left to discover.

Rating: Teen and up

Words: 1 678

Prompt: Broken Bone(s)

Author’s Notes:  Written for the prompt "Broken Bone(s)" over on the Httyd whump Discord that I'm in. Had some difficulty ending this one.

Constructive criticism is highly appreciated!

Enjoy!

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The Light Fury sat by the fire Toothless made. Gathering and neatly piling a bunch of branches with skill that told of the many years the Night Fury has spend with the Vikings of Berk, he created something that the humans called a "campfire". He lit it up with a quick and small plasma blast to finish it off.

The light of the fire washed over all three of them. Her, Toothless, and the Night Fury's Rider, Hiccup.

"Thanks, Bud. That's a lot better." Hiccup told Toothless, who crooned and pressed their foreheads and then their cheeks together. A very draconic gesture of affection, Light noticed. The two of them did that a lot.

Hiccup was sitting at her side, a wing of hers shielding him from the freezing winds that the trees around them failed to keep out. While Toothless was out on his quest to make his human a fire, she was keeping him warm.

The campfire was lit now, Hiccup would no longer need to rely on a dragon's body heat to keep him safe from the cold. A good thing, but Light found herself unable to move away from him. Or rather, she was unwilling to.

They weren't in New Berk, they weren't even on their island. Instead, they were far away from home, camping out in the middle of a forest during a chilly Winter night after escaping from some lonesome Dragon Hunters. They had been desperately trying to revive the business empire that was once Viggo Grimborn's years ago, they were old foes.

It was hard to do so with the Dragon Riders' constant meddling. They thought it would help to catch the Chief of the Hooligans, the Dragon Rider, off guard, drag him back to their base and force him to cough up New Berk's location as well as the whereabouts of any and all dragon rescues.

Big mistake, of course. Not only was there no way Hiccup would simply tell them what they wanted to know, but they'd failed to properly restrain Toothless. The Night Fury had broken free before they'd brought him back to the camp and nearly gone on a rampage to break his mate and other significant other out.

Some miles away, the camp was still burning to the ground. There was a massive smoke plume visible in the moonlight. The three of them were waiting for the others to come bring them back home.

They'd been out together for Hiccup's day off, Toothless wasn't wearing his automatic tailfin and Hiccup could not steer their artificial fin the way he was now.

Light was staring at him. As Toothless settled near them, at Hiccup's other side, she was still staring.

Hiccup's face was bloody and bruised. An eye of his was swollen, his nose only just stopped bleeding and his lip was split. Though it looked painful, none of it could compare to the mess that were his hands.

Before the Night Fury had escaped, Light Fury had cloaked herself by heating her scales from the inside-out. That made it seem like she was no longer in her cage at all. The Hunters had blamed her mate's Rider for her mysterious disappearance, believing he'd somehow broken her out while they weren't looking. They clearly knew nothing of her species.

Light watched as they attempted to tear the answers out of him.

Hiccup could've simply told them the truth. That she was still in there, that her kind could cloak themselves like Changewings, but he hadn't. It was like he knew it made her feel safer and thus refused to tell them.

They'd beaten him. She could see the state of his face, but she'd heard ribs crack too.

As for his hands, they'd given him a choice.

"Give them the truth or have every bone in his hands broken."

For her sense of safety, he'd chosen the latter.

They were bloody and they were bruised. Placing first his right hand and then his left on a table, the Hunters had used a large hammer and it shattered bones and torn skin. Some of his fingers didn't quite bend the right way anymore either. He couldn't move any of them.

The human elderly healer, the one they named Gothi, she would have to take good care of them after the three of them returned home.

As a show of sympathy, Light gave Hiccup a soft nudge on his nearest forearm. His armbraces were absent. He was quieter than she was used to of him and she knew it was from the pain he must be feeling. She'd listened to him screaming with every hit on his hands. And while she couldn't look away, staring made her feel as if her own paws were hurting.

In the past year, the Light Fury warmed up to Toothless' Rider. She'd gotten used to his antics and stubbornness, to his recklessness. At the latter, she often showed her dismay. How Toothless let himself be wrapped up in their shenanigans time and again was beyond her. She never understood.

But Hiccup was a compassionate human with a respect and awe for dragons she'd never seen in his kind before. And after watching him take so much abuse and so much pain just so she would feel a little bit better until her mate would inevitably free the two of them, she finally saw what Toothless has been seeing for so many years. She finally saw Hiccup for who he truly was.

Unique, beautiful in his own way. She knew now what drove the dragons of Berk to hold him in such high regard, what drove them to love him. Hiccup was a human alpha, but his position amongst the dragons was second only to that of Toothless, the King of them all.

Light wondered if Hiccup even knew.

"I'm okay, Bud. I'm okay. Those Hunters did a number on me, but it was ten times more favourable than anything Viggo and Krogan have put us through." Hiccup attempted to ease his partner. Toothless was grumbling and fussing over his Rider's injuries, telling him to lie down and try to get some rest before the rescue party showed up. It wouldn't take them much longer now.

He was staring at Hiccup's hands. All three of them were.

They weren't words Hiccup could hear, but before he left on his little excursion, Toothless had told Light his Viking might be lucky if he could still properly use them after this. A notion that greatly sorrowed him, he loved the human Chief's hands and all they could do. Gothi could return some functionality to them, but extra care and loving treatment was necessary if they wanted Hiccup to invent, forge or draw ever again.

Light liked Hiccup's drawing. She never showed him how much she appreciated his skills. He taught Toothless everything he knew. It was interesting to watch him help out in the forge too.

She watched him help a drake with two bad hindlegs walk again.

His hands were important.

"Bud, I'm fine." Hiccup insisted when Toothless nudged his shoulder.

Deciding to help out, Light carefully pushed her snout into his collarbone with a croon. Hiccup gazed back at her in surprise and she crooned again. She gestured to the space between her and Toothless. He was already nestled in the middle, might as well lie down.

"Oh, uh, okay-okay." Too surprised to put up much of a fight, Hiccup listened. Both dragons needed to help him settle. It hurt for him to move. His ribs ached and it was hard to breathe freely without pain. He moaned once he was snug between them, eyes squeezed closed and face pulled into a grimace. His hands were cradled to his chest.

The upside to this, Hiccup admitted, was that this was the closest he'd ever been to the Light Fury so far. Cautious as she was, he counted himself lucky whenever she was willing to be in his near vicinity. To actually be nestled warmly in between her and Toothless, even while discomfortable with his injuries, to be cared for and protected by both of them, he would gladly savour this until the Dragon Riders would inevitably come for them.

After sighing deeply and successfully keeping his composure, Hiccup then looked up to both Furies as they gazed back down at him. He could feel Toothless' warm breath brushing through his hair, a familiar feeling.

Light was grateful for his sacrifice, Hiccup could tell by the look she wore and by the way she rumbled at him. He smiled up at her. If his hands weren't as beat up as they were, he would've tried to request the opportunity to scratch her chin like he would with Toothless.

"I'd do it again." Hiccup shrugged, his smile only growing despite the pain he was in. Light could see that there was an undeniable honesty in his gaze.

He really would do it again.

His hands were too hurt for the time being, so Light purred and affectionately rubbed her snout against his temple instead. A chuckle left Hiccup, quickly cut off when it proved to be too torturous for his aching ribs. It earned him a panicked yelp from Light, fussing over his well-being, a well-meaning nudge from her nose to his was met with a pained moan on Hiccup's part, who quickly turned his head.

"Toothless, a little help, please? She's not aware how meek and fragile we, humans, are."

Toothless watched them, wrapping his tail around Light and in a way Hiccup as well. What mattered to him was that they were both safe and that the Dragon Riders were coming, but watching his Rider and mate finally bond like this, it was a sight he'd been dying to see all year.

The Light Fury finally understood why Toothless loved Hiccup as much as he did, why he would go to the ends of the Midgard for him now and forever.

Because he knew, Hiccup would do the same for either one of them.

[boneandfur]

The Mask of Fate

Summary: when Bryce and Ari visit the Museum of Fine Arts, they make a startling discovery. Is the past truly the past? Or will Fate lend a hand? // Notes: Inspired by an edit made for me by @choicesarehard (at beginning of chapter). Much thanks and love goes to my writing pals, without whom none of this would be possible! You know who you are. // Words: 1470 // Song: Jenny of Oldstones by Florence Welch // Pairings: Bryce x MC, Ethan x ? //Rating: though this first chapter is only rated T, the rest of the work will have a hard and fast EXPLICIT 18+ rating. //AUTHOR's NOTE: if you enjoyed this, don't forget to like, comment & reblog!

PROLOGUE

Present Day

"Nox habet quod dies perdidit.” (Night holds what day has lost) -- Seneca.

"Tell me why you dragged me to a dusty museum on this nice, sunny day again?" Bryce laughs as Ari pays for their tickets, fixing her with a charming smile. "We could be out there playing Ultimate Frisbee."

"There's something I want you to see. Come on, slow poke." Ari digs her finger into Bryce's ribs, tickling him. "Eek!" The nearest museum docent, a girl with bright pink hair and a grandma cardigan, turns to stare as Bryce pulls Ari into his arms and rubs his nose against hers.

"There's more where that came from later, you beautiful, infuriating thing." His voice is a thing of beauty: honey and the echo of the tides, blowing over the bare flesh and warming her, like a tropical breeze blowing through the palms beside a white sand shore. "Doctor Riversong. Now, what's this special surprise?"

Ari tosses one dark ponytail over her shoulder, and winks, beckoning Bryce towards a door near a statue of Asclepius, the Greek god of medicine. "I know a guy."

•••

The back room of the museum is entirely too dusty for his tastes, and climate controlled. They couldn't have splurged for an upgrade? Bryce is wishing at this point that he'd thought to bring a wool sweater, he certainly owns enough of them living in the Northeast.

"Cold, Dr Lahela?" There's something about this 'guy' that sets all the hairs on the back of Bryce's neck distinctly on end, for all of his friendly manner.

"How do you know each other again?" Bryce barely moves his lips against Ari's ear, and yet Raines responds, his voice a liquid dark thing, smooth as a hand grasping silk sheets in pleasure -- or exquisite pain.

"Let's just say we have a mutual interest." Raines lays his hand over a panel on the door, and it slides open.

The smell of the little room is fresh and bright, like citrus and sunshine, for all its cramped space. Ari tugs at his hand, and Bryce allows himself to be led to a long aisle, made up of glass cases. Inside are the bric-a-brac of a world gone by, ranging from iron sickle knives to a doll with stone eyes, a child's plaything. Each has a small label, dated anywhere from 2000 BCE to 1600 CE.

Bryce moves along the glass cases, peering at the minutiae of lives lived thousands of years in the past. Ari has moved beyond him, talking with Raines. All of a sudden, he stops. There, in the case, is a bull's horn, gilded and flaking, bored with holes in a line. He knows what it is even before Raines speaks. "A bullroarer."

"Yes, you certainly know your history, Dr Lahela!" Raines sounds faintly amused, and Bryce feels soured, though nothing in Raines's manner is condescending.

He feels that he must have it, he must touch it. It's mine, Bryce thinks, although he knows it cannot be. He can almost feel the weight of the thing in his hands, and he knows the low roar it would make as it swoops through the air.

"From the height of the Minoan Empire, about 1600 BCE. That particular item was found in the ruins of the Palace at Knossos."

"You mean, like the Minotaur and Icarus?" Bryce takes a step back from the glass, although it pains him to do so. "That's just a myth. I'm a doctor. We believe in science, and what we can prove."

"You can't prove anything here, Doctor Lahela. These human memories, how precious, how fleeting they are." Somehow, it sounds like an incantation.

Raines removes a teak chest from one of the cases, weathered by time. The bronze lock crumbles in his hand. When he opens the case, the scent of labdanum is in the room, sweet and dark as vanilla and rich earth, like a woman who has just sat down after a bath, combing oil through her thick dark locks.

He then draws out a wax tablet, mummified and preserved by the centuries. "This was found in the ruins of old Ostia, buried under the foundations of a house near the shore. Some fishermen dragged it up in their nets in the late nineteenth century. It is a miracle it still exists."

"What does it say?" Ari strokes one fingertip over the lettering, entranced.

Raines raises a brow, reading aloud. "'Is that a stirgil in your toga, or are you just happy to see me?' Some things never change. Moving on..."

As Ari and Raines move on to the next case, Bryce hangs back. There is something about the teak case that fascinates him, like a medical curiosity. He crouches down level with the box. On the inside, there is lettering in Latin, almost too faint to make out. Medicae... Numidia. Something glints in the box, and Bryce removes it carefully.

It is a scalpel made of polished bronze, etched on one side with a drawing of a boy leaping over a bull, like the fresco he saw back in the hallway. When the world was new, when myths were made, oracles were spoken, and gods walked among men.

The smell of labdanum is back, and black storax, thick and sweet as the guava paste his mother would make for mochi. In the polished bronze, Bryce can almost see a woman, staring back at him down the centuries, dark eyed and skinned.

She was a medicae... of Numidia. At the house with the sign of Epione. In Ostia, where the blood oranges grow.

Bryce can almost see her turn her head to meet his eyes, as if to say:

Remember.

•••

In Ostia, there is a blood orange tree, under the sign of Epione, the goddess of healing. She is called Felicitas by the Romans, and her high priestess never turns a soul from her temple door. Harper grew up on the streets of Subura, back in Rome, where she learned the art of the medicae. She came to the port city of Ostia nearly two decades past, back when she was yet a girl, back when the blood orange tree was only a sapling, a reminder of the home she would never return to.

At night, when the locusts sing in the trees and the priestesses of that stone house wash the doorstep with salt water, Harper's lover comes to her in dreams. She will wake in the dawn-light, when the sun has not yet risen over the bay, and listen for the song of the nightingale; just as it sang beside their bedroom window, back in Subura, when they were young together.

(Back before the Legion, back before Ostia, before her hair began to turn gray, before her bones started to ache when the seas turn green with the coming storm.)

Beside her, the bed is cold, the place where he would lie is empty. Harper will roll over in her bed and reach beneath it for a chest made of teak and ebony, filled with the scrolls he has sent her. Each is like a precious jewel, a memory, hoarded and kept sacred. She will take out one at time, into the courtyard to break her fast.

(With sweet wine from Hispania, and blood oranges.)

Harper breaks the wax seal of the letter with a flick of her fingertip, and she smells the scent of him, her man; as though he sits beside her at the table, drinking watered wine and eating sticky figs, his deep blue eyes never leaving her face.

You get this crinkle between your eyes when you think too hard, my love, he will whisper, and press his thumb there, caressing the strain away.

(But like the space beside her in bed, Harper is alone at the table. She does not like to think about how many years it has been, or how many lines she can see beside her eyes in the beaten bronze mirror.)

She unrolls the carrying case carefully, wind and salt have done their wear and tear on the waxen leather packet. Out of the case falls a spring of fauna, and Harper carefully crumbles it in her palm, holding it to her nose to breathe in the strange scent. It is not a plant she knows, or has ever known before. If she did not know him better, she would think that he had a lover out there, in the far flung reaches of the Empire, and she would not blame him: it has been years since last they held one another.

(Yet a promise is a promise, and she has kept it, in her fashion.)

Under the same stars, in some far-flung corner of the Empire, Harper can picture him: sitting at his writing desk beneath his hospital tent, her man:

Ethus...