#exposition heavy

[satticwrites]

Scrapped Reaperverse Chapter: Ultimate Undead

I forgot to post yesterday, despite previously committing to my Thursday and Friday posting schedule, and with 12 minutes left of Friday (in my time zone), I’m really cutting it close. So, this is the original first chapter of Reaperverse (working title for both novel and series). I didn’t like the way it was headed and it felt very exposition heavy so I changed the point-of-view character. I…

[innocet]

Space babies is such a rent-lowering gunshot of an episode I love it dearly

[thebramblewood]

Two sexy vampires walk into a bar.

Previous / Next

Helena: I feel like literally everything is hanging out.

Lilith: You’ll draw the men like flies to honey.

Helena: That’s a good thing?

Lilith: For our purposes, it’s a very good thing.

Helena: [telepathically to Caleb] Help me.

Lilith: Last chance, baby brother! Sure you don’t want to tag along?

Caleb: [telepathically to Helena] You’ll be fine. Don’t let her bully you.

Helena: [telepathically to Caleb] [mental eye roll] You’re one to talk.

Caleb: [tersely] I’m good here, thanks.

Lilith: Suit yourself!

-

Lilith: Try to keep up, fledgling.

Helena: [shouting] It’s not fair when you give yourself a head start!

Lilith: I’m not the one who’s been slacking on my training.

-

Helena: You know, plasma fruit’s not so bad once you get used to the taste.

Lilith: My god, he’s already got you indoctrinated.

Helena: [crossly] I’m not brainwashed. But the only alternative you’re offering is cold-blooded murder, and you still haven’t explained why that’s necessary. If you only took a little-

Lilith: Remind me, Helena. How well was that working out for you? Did you ever feel truly full? Was there ever a single moment when the thirst wasn’t at the forefront of your mind? Your silence speaks volumes. Let me put it in human terms. You were restricting yourself to a handful of almonds a day when what you really needed was at least a three-course meal. Your body is starving, and it always will be so long as you resist fully nourishing it. Plasma is better than nothing, but the ache in the pit of your stomach will be constant. Caleb likes to pretend he doesn’t feel it, but I’ve seen inside his mind and you have too. We both know it’s there.

Helena: But if it’s just about the blood, there are other ways to get it. Hospitals, blood banks, volunteers, [gulps queasily] animals.

Lilith: All perfectly acceptable supplements, yes. I have my sources. Our refrigerator hardly stocks itself. But the truth is every cell in your body now is optimized for attack. You’re a predator by nature, and it takes stamina to resist. A few weeks is nothing. Are you prepared to deny yourself for an eternity? [lowers voice seductively] Don’t lie to me, Helena. It felt good, didn’t it, in that moment you finally let go? 

Helena: I don’t want to talk about that.Lilith: You were driven by pure instinct, and you loved it. You felt free. You felt alive. You felt whole. [smirks knowingly before slithering off barstool] I’ve found our mark. Wait here while I reel him in. It shouldn’t take long.

[queenie-ofthe-void]

A Desperate Fool - Part 5

Part 4

Last Time: Nancy had an unexpected guest while filling Eddie in on everything he's missed over the past year. Now: Nancy finally tells him what's going on with Steve

~~~

Nancy starts the story at the beginning of the end. 

Robin, Max, and Lucas flew out to LA and spent the last three days of Eddie’s ten day bender loading up boxes, carving Steve out of his life. After severing her lease, Robin and Steve moved into a small apartment in Chicago, only a train ride away from Dustin– which worked out when Steve struggled to leave the house for the first two months. All of the arcade and game store money Steve spent on the kids over the years was paid back in full to help cover the rent.

Eddie remembers the moment he opened their front door to a hollowed-out home. No toothbrush by the sink. No gold, wire-framed glasses on the nightstand. Just Steve’s matching guitar pick necklace next to two silver house keys, and a note which said ”don’t call” in Robin’s looped handwriting.

The first few months after Steve moved out are just a whirlwind in his memory. Countless parties and late nights and warm beds buried his grief, keeping it at bay, at least for a while.

Then Corroded Coffin’s new album Love Me. Hate Me. Fuck Me. Free Me. dropped. Eddie's lyrics filled to the brim with seething disdain, heavy with angst. The album found its target audience faster than anyone had expected, launching Corroded Coffin from an opener to a headliner in only a few months. 

The collective internet started raiding his past like the trash heap it was, and that’s when the interviews started. He was forced to defend his sexuality, his adoption, his shitty parents. Answering questions at the whims of anyone with internet access. Eddie held the rage like a lifeline, letting it fuel his shows and lace his words. 

He'd started showing up high to interviews. Even though he’s six months sober now, he’s never gone back and watched them, too afraid of what he’d find. He knows questions about his exes came up a few times. He can't remember what his answers were. Probably doesn't want to, with how his younger fans reacted. 

That doesn’t stop Nancy and she doesn’t sugar coat it for him. She tells him paparazzi and angry fans camped outside Steve's apartment building for weeks after Eddie mentioned Steve's full name in a drunken livestream. They were served an eviction notice a week after a fan threw a milkshake at Robin as she tried to open the front door. Steve was able to pull her inside, but his appearance only incensed the crowd into vandalizing their building. Apparently people didn’t take kindly to the idea of Steve dating a woman, proof that he only used Eddie as some sort of queer experiment. Like they hadn’t been together for almost eight years. 

Moving out required coordination and a decoy moving van, like something out of a goddamn heist movie. According to Nancy, that’s exactly what it was. They packed up their things for the second time, and were out within twenty-four hours. The kids snuck the two through the back in the dead of night, with Nancy dressed as Robin and Jonathan as Steve leaving out the front to distract the crowd. 

Looking back, he can’t believe how naive he’d been to think there’d be no real-world consequences. Eddie used the album as an opportunity to purge himself of overwhelming emotion and pour them into the music, like he always did. He indulged in the recurring fantasy of Steve holed up in his bedroom, brooding and crying while listening to Eddie’s songs over and over again. But he never thought for a second he’d be putting Steve in actual danger, let alone Robin or anyone else.

Nancy says that’s when they moved into her and Jonathan’s guest bedroom for two months. It was awkward at best, and difficult at worst. Steve would walk in on Nancy and Jonathan in the middle of a conversation about Eddie, or catch them watching interview clips. No matter how hard she tried to hide it, Steve seemed to see right through her. 

“Eddie,” Nancy sighs, wiping a stray tear from her eye, “I don’t think you understand how hard it was on everyone, not just Steve. You didn’t seem to care what we had to say, and when you called, you’d never ask about us. You only ever talked about yourself. All we heard about was Metal Munson, then had to watch Steve struggle with it all. It just– we didn’t know what to do.”

It took him longer than it should have to notice, since he didn’t call often. He was too relieved to care about the lack of messages or missed calls, sick of everyone constantly begging him to slow down. They’d see him online at some party or another, dancing next to some boy he’d never remember or drinking bottles on top of bars. Every new viral video brought a wave of concerned phone calls from Nancy and his friends. So really, it’s no surprise at all that he didn’t notice the change right away.

Because if Nancy’s timing is right, the month Steve and Robin moved in was when his family started blocking all contact with him.

~~~

ao3 (Homesick)

Alright turns out I'm terrible with exposition so this chapter is taking me FOREVER! I'm relatively happy with this part though so I'm ready to share. So I'm breaking it into bite sized pieces

Ooooo ALSO I started uploading all of A Desperate Fool to ao3 under the series Homesick. I'm going for full chapter updates on ao3 and little snippet updates here, so Tumblr might be just slightly ahead (never far though). Not sure what the rules are for marking the fic Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson when they never interact, and Steve isn't even there, even though that's what the whole fic is about. Idk I tried to make it clear!

I've talked about how the first chapter with Robin was supposed to be a one-off. But the overall concept was born from the song If It Means A Lot To You by A Day To Remember. That song is gut wrenching, so hopefully my fic is too!

Part 6

Tag List!!!

@sadisticaltarts @5ammi90 @blacklegsanji21

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

gojo fic is doneeeee just gotta proofread and check the formatting :333 revisiting it was fun …!!!!! it’s nice to see that i’ve improved in some ways but also that i still . Enjoy my older fics. this is one of the first fics i wrote for jjk period so .. it has a special place in my heart i think

[shadowphoenixrider]

Skin Deep (2/2)

(Continuation to this. I hope you like dialogue because, erm, there's a lot of it here! Also forgive me for my first attempt are writing...most of the X-Men here! I'm doing my best! Medical descriptions continue, but with less blood this time.)

"So, Hank, tell us what you've discovered of our new friend's mutant powers." Professor Xavier said, gesturing for the doctor to speak.

"Shadow's power are utterly fascinating!" Beast replied excitedly, glancing briefly to the young woman sitting on the medical cot, before addressing the others that had gathered in equal curiosity; Wolverine and Rogue stood either side of the professor, whilst Gambit leaned up against the wall, shuffling his cards to keep his hands busy.

"She has the gift of cellular communication and manipulation; not to the extent of being able to shapeshift, but it seems she is able to perform manipulations on the micro-level to command cells to move, divide and perform all their specialised functions as they have evolved to do. Indeed, she is so in tune with them, she can process information from them as if they were her own; sometimes even more efficiently than normal."

"How so?" Xavier asked, steepling his fingers.

"Cells in our bodies communicate by the use of biochemical signalling." It was Shadow who spoke this time. "With the exception of nerve cells, which use the changes in their membrane potential - a form of electrical charge - to transmit electrical signals, usually by the use of voltage gated ion channels."

"Fucking hell, now there's two of them." Wolverine groaned, and Gambit had to suppress a smirk.

"I can control these signals myself, but I also seem to be able to...streamline them? I can make things happen much more quickly than what a human or mutant's body could do alone." Shadow nodded to Gambit. "A pneumothorax-"

"A pneumo-what?" Rogue frowned. "English please, sugah."

"Pneumothorax - 'air in chest'." Shadow explained. "It's when air becomes trapped in the pleural sac that wraps around the lungs to keep them lubricated, and avoid friction from rubbing against the ribs as they inflate and deflate. Usually those of the size I found in Gambit's require a drain, but I managed to eliminate it just by speeding the process of the reabsorption of air into the surrounding tissues."

"Not only that, but the wound you repaired." Beast gestured. "Gambit, if you'd be so kind to show the rest of us your right palm."

Gambit tugged his glove off, opening his hand up to the others as they leaned over.

"There's nothing there, sugah." Rogue raised an eyebrow. "Sure you're not jokin' with us?"

"Non, there definitely were something here, mon amie." Gambit said. "Made a mistake wit one of my cards durin' de scuffle, cut my hand open pretty bad. Couldn't move my fingers dat well after. Like they be caught on something."

"It was a deep laceration with an injury to a palmar digital vein and a seventy-five percent division of the extensor tendons." Shadow added. "A repair that would have certainly required surgery and several months of hand therapy to heal properly."

Wolverine uttered a low whistle. Gambit found himself flexing his fingers. No wonder she was so intent on healing me. That fils de putain nearly disabled me for months!

"And yet there's not a mark to be seen." Xavier commented, rubbing his chin. "How does it feel, Gambit?"

"Like before it were hurt." He replied, spinning a card expertly through his fingers to demonstrate. "Wouldn't have believed it myself if Gambit didn't see it happen wit his own eyes." He looked to Shadow, offering her a smile. She returned it with a shy one of her own, ducking her head.

"I've told you how the scene looked when Wolverine and I got there, Professor." Heads turned to see Cyclops walking into the medbay. "Yet Gambit was completely fine. Shadow's power seems to be like Wolverine's healing on tap."

"Glad you could join us, Cyclops." Xavier smiled. Gambit noticed movement out of the corner of his eye; Shadow had tilted her head in the very same motion she had when they'd first met. "Yes, I remember your description of the scene. It is very fortunate Gambit crossed paths with someone with such gifts."

"Petite?" The Cajun asked, shifting attention once again. Shadow's blue eyes flicked back and forth a moment, thinking.

"You've got a cut, Cyclops," she said. "I think it's...your left hand?"

Everyone's gaze swung back to said mutant, who looked taken aback.

"I...I do. I got a papercut a couple of minutes ago. How did you-"

"Ya hearin' something," Gambit's eyes fixed on Shadow, realization dawning, "aren't you?"

She blushed, looking away and scratching at the back of her neck.

"Yeah." Her gaze returned, although now she was looking at her feet dangling off the edge of the cot, her hand playing with her hair. "It's...a part of my power. When hurt or damaged, cells release a chemical signal to call for assistance. For some reason, I can hear it. The stronger the sound, the more the person is hurt."

"Extraordinary!" Beast breathed.

"Lotta people hurt in lotta differn' ways. Bein' able to hear all that, all the time? That sounds a pretty noisy life, sugah." Rogue said gently.

"Yes and no." Shadow admitted. "It seems to be just for recent traumatic injuries than anything chronic like cancer. But..." She wrapped her arms around herself. "You're right. I've had to learn to tune it out sometimes. Especially in crowded places, but also..." Her fingers curled into her hoodie. "People get weird sometimes when you offer to help. You know?"

No-one had to say anything, or even nod to understand. Even the mutants who could pass knew the tightrope you had to walk, not to hint or suggest you were something else, an 'other'. Regardless of the comfort in your own skin, the danger remained in the back of your head.

"I am sorry your gifts have brought you sorrow." Xavier spoke kindly.

"Thank you, but I'm one of the lucky ones." Shadow replied, smiling sadly. "It's easy enough to hide, and it doesn't give me too many problems."

"Now hold on a second." Wolverine spoke up. "If it's easy to hide, why'd you get attacked in the first place?"

"The sound I hear when someone's in pain is like tinnitus - a ringing tone." Shadow explained. "But I heard a completely different noise, like the signal was going in and out." She sighed, running a hand through her curly hair. "I got curious, followed it to the source, which was the guy with a gun welded to his arm." A wry smile. "I asked if he was doing ok, and he took offence. You know the rest."

"The cybernetics were extremely crude." Beast mused, scratching his chin. "You were likely hearing his body under stress, reacting to the foreign matter forcibly bonded to it."

"Den you were in the wrong place at the wrong time." Gambit shook his head, twirling a card over his fingers. "Lucky I were dere, petite."

"Yes." Cyclops folded his arms. "Though it sounds like he would have attacked anyone, mutant or otherwise. He just got 'lucky'."

"That's not exactly comforting, Slim." Was Wolverine's gruff response.

"At least this escalation appears restricted to a single person." Xavier spoke calmly. "A dangerous extremist that we managed to stop before he could cause any damage."

"Gambit beg to differ." The Cajun grumbled.

"What've you gotta worry 'bout?" Rogue grinned at him, thumping him on the shoulder almost hard enough to knock him to the side. "She fixed you right up!"

"Dat don't mean it didn't hurt de whole time!" He retorted, shooting her a look. She just replied with a raised eyebrow, amused. "'Sides, dat fight be harder den Gambit expecting." He frowned, looking back to the professor. "If dey start figurin' out how to wire dose blasters up, we're gon' be in a lotta trouble."

"Indeed." Xavier nodded. "However, we are getting off subject." He turned back to Shadow and Beast. "You clearly have some control over your powers, but I am curious of the limits of your potential. I presume you've never used them in anger?"

"No." Shadow shook her head. Gambit raised an eyebrow, watching her carefully.

Lying...? He wondered.

"I can't manipulate cells beyond one or two in a pteri dish without having direct skin-to-skin contact with them, and it takes a while to establish the connection with another's body." Shadow continued. "And that's not easy to do when they are other things going on - people throwing hands at you tends to disrupt your concentration."

The Cajun's dark gaze flicked to Xavier, wondering if he sensed the same thing he had. The Professor may have the clarity of a telepath, but Gambit had read more than enough people to sense something was off. His gut told him there was something she wasn't telling them. But what, he had no idea.

"I get the impression that our friend has learned to control her mutation, yet little more." Beast suggested. "Do you practice your powers at all, Shadow?"

"On myself, yeah. I use them when no-one's looking, to heal bumps and scrapes." She folded her arms. "Hard to practice on others though, without revealing myself."

"I can imagine it's not an easy thing to ask someone." Cyclops said. Gambit traced the edge of the card he was holding, recalling the strange feeling of someone under his skin.

"No. Nor easy to explain." Shadow sighed, her hands fidgeting with her sleeves. "I was lucky I had an understanding partner for a while, who let me practice on him."

Gambit saw Rogue cross her arms from the corner of his eye, sadness flashing across her face for a moment.

"What happened to him?" She asked softly. Shadow's shoulders slumped.

"Things fell apart. He loved me for who I was...but he wanted that part of me to stay a neat party trick, something to put on the shelf that only the two of us could use as an asset." She scowled. "There were other problems, that of two high school sweethearts growing up and away from one another, but it was my powers that broke us in the end. Because they can be safely ignored, he wanted me to just put them aside and concentrate on marrying, settling down and having babies together. As if my powers aren't a part of me like my eyes or lungs or hair!"

Her lips curled into a furious snarl, eyes flashing with boiling resentment.

"I have a power that doctors could only dream of having, something that could help, and instead he just...wanted me to forget about it, pretend to be normal!" The anger soon broke however, and a thickness entered her voice. "I'll never be normal. And after everything we'd both been through, I thought he'd understand that better than anyone."

Shadow chuckled bitterly.

"Not that it really matters now, though. Even if they'd let me practice as a mutant, I never could pass the tests needed to qualify as a proper clinician." She glanced up at Beast, who offered her a sympathetic smile. "Had to go for a lab tech job instead. I figured maybe my ability could still help with diagnostics if I was careful and could back my reports up with evidence. Tilt the needle more in the patient's favour, you know?"

"I sense a 'but' coming." Cyclops said what Gambit was thinking. Shadow blew a sigh out of her nose.

"Everything was fine for a while. Then, I'm three days into my annual leave and I get a call saying they're tacking three months of administrative leave onto the end of it." She ran a hand through her hair. "One of the techs got his thumb up his ass about me 'potentially' being a mutant. Overheard me talking to myself and thought it was good grounds to start shit."

"I presume this had nothing to do with your ability, since you can communicate with cells silently." Beast spoke, a claw tapping his chin in thought.

"No, nothing to do with my power. Sometimes I just talk to myself to help me think through a problem. Or just inanimate objects in general. It's just a thing I've always done since I was a child, nothing to do with being a mutant." She lifted a shoulder. "Maybe something I said in my ramblings could have been suspicious? But at the same time, how do you prove that I'm actually speaking to something to communicate, over just plain eccentricity?"

"People like those see mutants in every corner." Wolverine grunted. "Woulda only been a matter of time."

"Yeah, I guess so." Shadow agreed, briefly pulling her lips into a thin line. "So, yeah. Signed off work 'cos of some asshole, and now I potentially have a hate group gunning for me too." She rested her elbows on her knees, her forehead on her knuckles. "Deep joy."

"You have my deepest sympathies, Miss Shadow." Beast spoke, resting a massive hand delicately onto her shoulder. "But, if we may return to the subject of your current power and limitations?" She looked back up, nodding. "Thank you. I have reason to believe that whilst you have a good grasp on your powers right now, their greater depths are as of yet untapped. You should be able to refine them in multiple ways; offensively, defensively and as a general utility, both for yourself and others."

"I figured as much myself." Shadow said. "I've been able to exceed my body's normal limits temporarily by some subtle manipulations, but it's difficult to maintain due to the damage it causes. Such as lifting the control limts on my muscles - I could use them to their full potential to lift a car, but it requires focus first to lift the limits and keep them off, and then to endure and heal the damage suffered from such an act."

"That could improve with time and training." Beast replied. "As you well know, you wouldn't be able to heal as you do without practice, or be able to tune the sounds of hurt from others out."

"I am curious as to your current limitations of your healing." Xavier spoke, and Gambit felt the telepath's gaze on him. "You said you can only use it with skin-to-skin contact?"

"Yeah." She nodded. "I need it to be able to commune with another person's cells and form the connection into their body. It's like I have to move my consciousness into the person, and that's what takes the time. Of course, if the injury is in just one area, like the arm, it's quicker for me to connect with that area than it is to fully 'move' into another's body."

Gambit paused his card shuffling, interest piqued fully.

"Interesting. From what Gambit told me of what happens, it seems as if your body enters a trance - still alive and functioning, but your mind elsewhere."

"Yeah. I kinda...'lose' connection with my own body temporarily, especially if I fully 'move' into another's. But it's more a case that I don't notice what my body's feeling - not that I've actually moved inside the person."

"So if your body was to be hurt or the connection broken..." Beast mused.

"I'd be ripped back into myself." Shadow said, winding one of the drawstrings of her hoodie around her finger. "Had it happen a couple of times by accident, and it's always unpleasant. It takes me a couple of seconds to adapt to a person's body when I enter and then readapt to my own when I return - you can imagine that a jarring re-entry doesn't exactly make me feel very good."

"No, it doesn't." Xavier agreed. Gambit lifted an eyebrow. Getting forced out of someone's head must feel the same way for the Professor and Jean.

"What's it like, bein' under someone's skin?" It was Rogue who spoke this time.

"Loud." Shadow chuckled. "Bodies are a riot of noise, both from cells talking to one another to just the general sounds like the heart beating, breathing, all that." Her eyes became far away, flicking back and forth in thought. "It...is hard to explain. It's like I become someone else, but I'm not them. I'm...I'm like a house guest. I can listen to their music, move their furniture around and stuff like that, but it's not my house."

"Sounds 'bout right." Gambit chimed in. "Feels like dere someone under your skin wit you."

"Brrr," Rogue shivered. "Don't like the sound of that, sugah."

"Yeah, it a weird feelin' at first. But after a while you get used to it. It don't hurt, it just...uncomfortable. Least to begin with."

"That's pretty much how my ex described it." Shadow nodded. "Uncomfortable and weird, but not painful. I can understand why people wouldn't enjoy the experience, nor the thought of having someone with near free reign over the most precious thing to them."

"Near free reign?" Xavier asked, his brows furrowing. "You don't have full control?"

"No." Shadow shook her head. "Like I said, I'm a guest. I've not yet been forcibly evicted by someone on purpose, but they still have full control of their body whilst I'm inside them. Anything I do, the person could fight back against me."

"Did dat when Gambit felt his fingers move without him." The Cajun added. "Her grip strong, but not complete."

"With enough strength and contrary directions, a person can overpower me." Shadow said. "I mean, all it would take is for someone to sock me in the jaw and I'm flung straight out." She turned her head slightly, looking thoughtful. "I also...have rules."

"Rules?" Gambit's eyes narrowed slightly.

"Technically I have control over every cell in the body. That includes brain cells." A sudden tension tightened the air. "I don't think you need me to tell you what that means, even over the fact I can already technically puppeteer a person if I wanted to." Shadow slowly raised her gaze to the others, meeting their eyes and holding them firmly.

"I don't know what I can do in that regard, I don't want to know, and I never will know." She spoke firmly, with conviction. "It is my one unwritten master rule I follow above all others - I will never touch or interfere with another's cognition or will or anything to do with the brain. Partially because it is wrong, and partially because I'm shit scared about how badly I could fuck someone up if I make a mistake. Help someone suffering a stroke, sure - that's just a blood vessels, I know how they work. But I will never, never touch the brain tissue itself."

Gambit considered her, impressed both with the heated force behind her words, and the fact she'd shown her hand in this way. It would have been easy to lie by omission, and yet here she was, highlighting how much trust he'd laid into her hands. He'd essentially given himself to her like a patient gave themselves to a surgeon, and like that surgeon, she'd repaid his trust only by taking care of him. No more, no less.

"An admirable code to live by." Beast said softly. "Your own Hippocratic Oath."

"I try to follow that too." Shadow said. "'Do no harm'."

The doctor gave her a wry smile.

"The Hippocratic Oath is a little more lengthy than that, but the colloquial version will be more than enough for your needs, I think."

"Words don't give me much comfort, sweetheart." Wolverine growled. "We just have to trust that you won't mess with our heads?"

"You wouldn't need Shadow's help anyway." Gambit countered. "You heal jus' fine on ya own."

"That may be Cajun, but what about the others who need her help? What about you?"

"She looked after me well enough."

"You don't have to trust me." Shadow retorted, pulling herself up to her full height. "Like I said, I wouldn't be able to heal you anyway if the contact wasn't fully consensual. Besides," she gestured broadly. "the fuck am I gonna do? I'm useless unless my hands are on someone's skin! I don't even know how to fight! I have nothing to gain except a grave."

"We are getting ahead of ourselves." Xavier spoke with steely firmness, fixing Wolverine with a glare. "You are assuming that Shadow will even stay with us."

Wolverine grunted, folding his arms but offering no further objection.

"But Professor, that is your preference, isn't it?" Cyclops piped up. "For Shadow to stay whilst we investigate the Friends of Humanity member that attacked her?"

"It is my recommendation, yes." Xavier agreed, turning to the young woman. "If you stay, you can train and refine your powers, and perhaps learn some techniques to help keep yourself safe when you leave us in the future. This will not be a permanent placement, unless you wish it to be." His ice blue eyes shot another glare at Wolverine. "Regardless of current opinion."

"Still don't like it." Said mutant grumbled.

"Why is her powers differen' to what the Professor an' Jean can do?" Rogue asked, folding her arms and raising an eyebrow. "They could do much worse, but we're fine with them! Ah, no offence, Professor."

"None taken, Rogue."

Wolverine growled in frustration, scowling.

"Fine. But if she stays, I'm keeping an eye on her."

"That's fair." Shadow nodded. "So long as you'll at least grant me that chance for a scrap with you if I do screw up, and you don't just off me whilst I'm sleeping."

"Thought you said you couldn't fight?"

"I can't." She smiled, holding her hands out. "I just prefer to be stabbed in the front, not the back."

Despite himself, a smile tugged on the corner of Wolverine's mouth, and also on Gambit's.

"Does that mean you've made a decision, Shadow?" Xavier asked.

"Yeah." She nodded. "I'll stay for a little while. Least 'til the heat dies down from those guys, and my job lets me back in."

"A fair agreement." Xavier smiled slightly. "There are some spare dorms for you to stay in, and we can help make arrangements to move some of your personal belongings here, if you wish."

"I'll go and sort that, Professor." Cyclops spoke, taking his leave.

"I'll let the others know we got a new guest." Rogue added, offering a smile to Shadow. "Welcome to the family, sugah."

"Now, to more prudent matters," Xavier began, "whilst you are our guest here, you will be expected to pick up your side of the tasks here, as well as train. This is a school, not a hotel."

"Wasn't expecting a free hand-out." Shadow replied, looking to Beast. "I'm happy to help as best I can, and I'll try to keep out from under your feet otherwise."

"I am certainly grateful for another pair of hands." The doctor grinned at her.

"Good." Xavier said, becoming thoughtful. "Did you say you were expecting to be on leave for three months?"

"Round about, yeah. I have one week of annual leave, then the admin leave starts." Shadow snorted. "Least I should be grateful they let me keep the holiday..."

"Alright. Then we will make the necessary arrangements to accommodate you." Xavier turned. "Please come with me, Shadow. We'll sort out the details in my office."

The young woman nodded, hopping off the medical cot to follow closely behind. Gambit watched her go, sharing a quick smile with her before his gaze became a little more intent than he expected; whilst Shadow's hoodie was baggy and hid much of her form, her jeans absolutely did not. He found his gaze wandering down her back to her hips and legs, lingering to watch her thighs flex under the denim-

Wolverine elbowed him in the ribs.

"Put your tongue back in your mouth, Cajun." He grunted, a smirk playing on his gruff features. "She's not on the menu."

"Gambit can appreciate fine art without havin' to touch it, mon ami." He retorted, glaring. "'Sides, thought ya didn't like her."

"Hmph. Maybe she's not a threat. But still gonna keep an eye on her, just in case." Gambit folded his arms, raising an eyebrow. "Don't give me that look. You shouldn't be getting ideas either way; she'll be gone after those three months, anyway."

It turned out that Shadow would stay for much, much longer than that...

[greenconverses]

honestly how did they manage to make the lotus casino so fucking boring

[maximura]

Ad Astra: The Theory Of Relativity| An Interstellar Ateez story Part I | Part II | Part III (Words 4727, Warnings: none)

"HONGJOONG!"

Wooyoung's full weight comes crashing into him and Hongjoong catches it tightly in relief. He sees a wall clock out of the corner of his eye and is surprised to learn that they've only been here for a hour. He didn't even realise he could miss his brother this fiercely in such a short amount of time.

"Are you okay-"

"THERE'S A ROBOT HERE." Wooyoung hisses loudly, hands flapping with wild energy he couldn't contain.

CAASI blinks his red light at the mention and stands taller in attention.

"Yes, I know that but did-"

"He built him here! And did you know that this is a whole underground building?! They have tons of computers and I swear there's another drone back there but they totally denied it and didn't let me look but I know what I saw-"

Doctor Park is walking quietly next to them, hands in his pockets, icy demeanour intact but even he cracks a small smile at the ramblings.

Hongjoong catches it curiously, filing it away to process later, before going back to check his brother for any signs of injuries, but apart from a head of messy hair (self inflicted) and clothes in disarray (also self inflicted), he's grateful that Wooyoung seems perfectly fine.

Better than fine actually; buzzing with excitement and seemingly lacking any concern that he's in an underground facility surrounded by military technology and strangers whose intentions were still not clear, though not entirely unkind. It's the type of foolishness that is genetically inherited then nurtured for years by a like-minded older brother.

And it's then that Hongjoong suddenly has an awareness of the Swiss army knife in his pocket. It's still there. They took the map, notebook, his wallet and his own brother but left the knife.

It's another thought to file away for later processing.

Wooyoung continues to list off everything he's seen so far: tunnels, robots, computers, drones and electronics that were far more advanced than the farming tech they were used to. The excitement in his voice gradually crescendoes into shrillness and, as always, had a tendency to carry into every corner of a room, or in this case, a corridor leading to a boardroom.

Through the glass doors there's a large wooden table, around which several people in suits were already sitting and seemingly waiting for their arrival.

Hongjoong pulls his brother closer to his side as they make their approach and Wooyoung moves easily with him. Doctor Park walks half a step ahead, keeping polite distance as he moves comfortably, even in the dark parts of the long corridor. He never once takes his eyes off them and Hongjoong can feel it like a prickly heat on his skin that he wants to scratch off.

The boardroom is familiar, Hongjoong has seen variations of it before: government grey carpet on the floor, dark wood with soundproofing pyramids on the walls, no windows but plenty of harsh overhead lighting designed to prevent laziness, encourage innovative thought and sometimes, to provoke discomfort.

A military grade room.

Wooyoung abruptly ends his ramblings as they enter, instinctively grabbing the back of Hongjoong's jacket when he sees the table of suits; it's a nervous habit he's had since he was a kid and one that only seems to resurface when he can't process a sudden unexpected wave of anxiety.

"Hello Hongjoong."

A familiar voice calls out from behind them and when Hongjoong whips his head around, he's met by an older man leaning heavily on a cane.

"Professor Park?!" Hongjoong stumbles back in shock, seeing but not quite believing what was in front of him.

"Well, you look like you've seen a ghost." The old man chuckles.

"You're......alive?" Hongjoong stutters. "But the court hearing and the trial-"

"-a formality that was eventually overturned." The Professor replies with a mischievous grin. "I was the first astrophysicist with a criminal record but only the second to be threatened with one."

Before Hongjoong could ask any more questions, they're ushered into two empty chairs near the middle while the old professor takes his seat at the head of the table. Doctor Park makes his way towards the other end.

A young man with ashy blond hair clears his throat and leans forward. "Could you please explain how you found this facility."

Hongjoong doesn't know who he is but judging by his young age, being the first to lead the questions and the copious notebooks and folders in front of him, Hongjoong guesses he's the face of public relations and the most level headed one in the room.

"It was by accident. We stumbled on it when-"

An older man with grey hair and a sharp navy blue suit leans forward impatiently. "This is an undisclosed government facility. Nobody stumbles in and nobody stumbles out. So we would appreciate a little more specificity."

Hongjoong shifts in his chair with irritation. He's been interrogated before, he been trained how to handle it, but his nerves and patience are wearing dangerously thin.

"Hongjoong," Professor Park says gently, "Please co-operate with these people."

"I was being specific: it was accidental. We didn't go looking for it." Hongjoong starts begrudgingly, "Look, it's kind of hard to explain. I suspect it might have been an anomaly because it sure as hell didn't feel scientific."

The young blond man nods unfazed and has his pen poised, ready to make notes. "What kind of anomaly?"

"I'm not telling you anything else until we get some guarantees."

The blond looks at him in confusion. "Guarantees?"

Hongjoong moves across to block Wooyoung's ears before whispering, "That we're going to be able to leave here tonight and I don't mean with some fine we can't pay or another criminal record we can't fight."

Wooyoung struggles against his hands like the little shit he is and Hongjoong gives up trying to protect his brother from what he knows is going to be highly classified information.

The blond man looks stumped for a split second, clearly unaccustomed with managing security breaches this egregious, but recovers swiftly.

"Our organisation does not have those kinds of powers or any intention to cause harm."

“So why is your organisation hiding underground in a secret location?”

“We are not hiding Hongjoong,” Professor Park says in bemusement. “You know what this is: this is NASA.”

“NASA?!” Wooyoung squeaks. “You exist?!”

“Yes.” Professor Park nods and smiles at the teenager. “We are what’s left of the theoretical astrophysics division."

"We’re underground for your safety, not ours.” Doctor Park adds helpfully, if not ominously.

With the confirmation verbalised so plainly, Hongjoong feels like he's been punched in the chest. He didn’t want it to be true even if he had suspected it all along: from the sight of the drone, to the coordinates on the floor and CAASI's first appearance, of course everything had pointed towards NASA. Still, Hongjoong didn't want to believe it. The denial had kept him hopeful that his life, and his brother's lives, didn't need to change.

If NASA was dead, then his old dreams and his old life could stay buried too.

But now, with a sinking feeling in his gut, Hongjoong knows they've passed the point of no return.

Across the room Doctor Park is watching him; every twitch, every scowl, every reaction. Hongjoong doesn't know what to make of it.

The impatient navy blue suit speaks again. "Now that you know who we are, you need to explain why you have the co-ordinates to a highly secure and undisclosed government facility circled on your map."

Hongjoong's mind is still swirling with the day's revelations and he pauses to think of an explanation that won't send him on a one way trip to the mental hospital.

"It was gravity." Wooyoung pipes up, causing all the adult to turn towards him. "And a magnetic field ghost who writes in binary codes."

The boardroom appears taken aback, seemingly disbelieving that they were having a serious conversation about national security with a fourteen year old boy.

"A gravitational anomaly?" Professor Park murmurs, sitting back as if recalling something else. "Please elaborate Hongjoong."

“There was an un-piloted Indian fighter drone circling around our crop fields. I should’ve known then that it was drawn to the magnetic field that our home must be built on."

Wooyoung gasps quietly next to him, putting it together for the first time.

“I’m not saying it’s something supernatural but there were binary codes written in dust on the floor of our home. I had to decode it in reverse but that’s where the coordinates came from.”

The navy suit is grinning ear to ear now. “Let me get this straight; the magnetic force in your home led to a dusty binary code on your floor? Which you somehow deciphered into coordinates that you mysteriously had the knowledge to reverse and piece together?”

It sounds even more unbelievable out loud. Hongjoong can’t even blame them for thinking he’s crazy.

Another person speaks from down the table. “The chances of that are-“

“About one in a trillion.” Professor Park replies. “And yet. Here he is.”

“Why didn’t the previous home owner decipher the code then? Or a neighbour? Assuming the magnetic field has been around their location this whole time.”

“A coincidence?”

"Just another unexplained anomaly."

“An accident.”

“Pure random luck.”

The debate is silenced by Professor Park again.

“No. This is Murphy’s Law. Only a person with binary knowledge, half a physics degree, aerospace training and the complete disregard for proprietary law and personal safety could’ve found us the way he did.”

“Aerospace training?" Wooyoung murmurs to himself. "Why does he know that Hongjoong? What does that mean?”

Before he can reassure his brother, Hongjoong is interrupted by the Professor addressing the room again.

“The real question we should ask is if They wanted him to find us.”

“Who are They?”

There are uncomfortable looks exchanged between the other members of the boardroom but Doctor Park doesn’t look at anyone but Hongjoong. It was beginning to get unnerving.

“Professor, with all due respect, this is now classified information.” The blond man says. “In the wrong hands, this could be dangerous.”

“Those aren’t the wrong hands.” The Professor states, pointing at Hongjoong. “Did you not conduct the background security check on him yourself, Yeosang?”

“Yes, I did but it’s my job to remind you that he is not on active duty and might not be aware of the new protocols we now operate under.”

“Oh he is aware of more than he realises.” Professor Park says, getting up now to walk towards the exit. “He knows all about NASA's protocols, don't you Hongjoong?”

“Yes.”

Wooyoung gapes at him as the rest of the room falls silent. Nobody offers any further protest.

“Excellent!" Professor Park exclaims, "Then perhaps we might make use of his lucky accidental knowledge to solve our little problem? Come walk with me Hongjoong."

And with that, the main meeting seems to be done. Several board members exit without much protest, even if there were skeptical looks on their faces.

Wooyoung stays seated at the table, staring at the wood grain patterns.

"My brother-"

Professor Park nods to Yeosang and Doctor Park. "Perhaps Wooyoung would like to meet our other robots? He seems to like old CAASI here."

The fourteen year old lifts his head up then, interest piqued at the promise of more robots. He pauses to look at Hongjoong for permission.

"What kind of robots? Will he be safe there?"

The blond man, Yeosang, nods firmly. "Yes you have my word. They will be service robots."

He doesn't know what makes him do it but Hongjoong looks over to Doctor Park with a clear question in his eyes and is surprised when he gets a nod back in response.

"He will be safe. CAASI will stay with him."

Doctor Park walks over to the robot and whispers some inaudible instructions that causes CAASI to blink his red light in acknowledgement.

"Affirmative."

“Nothing will happen to him here, Hongjoong. We’re scientists, not criminals.” Professor Park reassures, “Besides, CAASI’s protection settings cannot be adjusted by anyone else."

“What does that mean?”

“It means he follows my programming." Doctor Park replies, "He will keep your brother safe.”

“Is he autonomous?”

“Only within the confines of my programming.”

“He's got ex Marine programming too." Hongjoong points out, "Aren't you worried he’ll go rogue?”

“No.”

"Isn't that kind of naïve? I've seen plenty of ex-Military programs malfunction after years of service.”

Doctor Park leads CAASI over to Wooyoung, smiling as the teenager tries to shake hands with the robot, only to realise that the robot doesn't actually have hands.

But the smile slides off the young Doctor's face as he regards Hongjoong again, "CAASI won't malfunction."

"How are you so sure of that?"

“Because I built him.” Comes the cool reply.

Wooyoung looks between the two bickering adults, unsure what to make of it. The tension in the room is only broken when Yeosang clears his throat again and motions for them all to move out of the boardroom.

Just before they temporarily part ways, Hongjoong pulls Wooyoung aside and hugs him tightly. "Do not let them do anything weird to you. Do not agree to anything. Don't tell them anything about us. I mean it! You scream for me if something happens okay? Don't trust anyone here. Got it?"

"Got it!" Wooyoung is nodding as he hugs his brother back before following CAASI and Yeosang into another atrium, presumably where the other robots lived.

"Do not worry about him Hongjoong," Professor Park says with a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Both CAASI and Yeosang are one and the same; both programmed to follow the rules."

They are walking down another corridor now, one with two very large steel doors at the end.

“Our planet is suffocating Hongjoong. You know this. The air quality has been steadily deteriorating since 2025. The reduction of nitrogen in our soil is killing off the majority of mass produced food crops. Our agriculture colleagues are doing an outstanding job keeping up with the Earth's changes but they can’t do it forever. Eventually there will be an inevitable end point where it will be impossible to modify the chemicals in the soil or adequately filter the air. We need a radical solution.”

“It’s called the Lazarus Mission. Six of our bravest astronauts sent off world to discover a new planet capable of sustaining life.”

“They have enough supplies to make it stretch a decade if they go into hibernation mode. Their on-board computers have been programmed to send regular binary signals back to Earth regarding the viability of their planet. We plan the rescue missions based on the ongoing signs of life.”

Hongjoong shakes his head at the incredible stakes involved. “What if the planets aren’t viable? They just die there?”

“That’s unfortunately where the bravery comes in.” The older man says solenmly. “Tell me Hongjoong, what do you really think of the mission?”

“The Lazarus Mission? With all due respect Professor, it sounds crazy.” Hongjoong says, “I can’t believe you got the funding for it.”

“We were fortunate to secure some private investors before they died of dust-lung, benefactors who believed that the answer to humanity's survival lay amongst the stars. The government ran out of money for this years ago. We haven't been able to recruit enough new blood into the program. This is our last hope.”

“Why did you call it Lazarus then? It’s a bit depressing isn’t it?”

"I named it." Doctor Park replies coldly. “Lazarus came back from the dead.”

“Yeah but he had to die first.” Hongjoong reminds him. "And wait for some miracle to happen."

“It worked didn't it?" The young Doctor counters. "He then went on to live and prosper, free from his sickness. He spawned generations. Or is that all too depressing for you?”

The old Professor sighs and shakes his head. "Seonghwa, please be civil to our guest."

Turning to Hongjoong, he smiles apologetically. "My son isn't used to being challenged like this. You'll have to forgive his enthusiasm on the matter."

Son?

What.

Seeing the shock in Hongjoong’s face, the Professor laughs. “I am sorry I did not have time to introduce you earlier. Seonghwa here only takes after me in the science department. Fortunately for him he takes after his lovely late mother in all other aspects.”

“Father, I don’t think he needs to know this.”

“Of course he does, Seonghwa! How will you be friends if he knows nothing about you?”

Doctor Park, Seonghwa, lets out a small, barely visible, huff. “My autobiography is earned, not given.”

Hongjoong desperately wants to eye roll back and tell the other man that maybe he has no interest in being friends either. That his own trust is also earned, not given.

They stop as they reach the steel doors at the end of the corridor.

"Hongjoong, we cannot proceed further unless you agree to be involved in the mission. NASA protocols, as you know."

Hongjoong thinks of Yunho then, waiting at home and worried about being the last remaining member of their family. He thinks about his brother's graduation in a few months. His eighteenth birthday. Whether or not he'll ever meet the boy on the motorbike. He thinks about Uncle Kyungmoon and Jonghoon and their small community of farming families.

He thinks about Wooyoung losing another father figure.

Maybe this is too much adventure.

“I understand. This all sounds like a very ambitious mission Professor and I wish you all the luck with it but there's nothing I know that could help you.”

Professor Park laughs heartily, the sound echoing loudly off the walls.

“My boy, I think we both know that’s not true hm?”

Hongjoong shakes his head. "That was a long time ago-"

"Perhaps this may change your mind then."

Hongjoong watches, heart thumping in his chest, as the steel doors slowly buzz open, revealing a vast cavernous hangar and what is unmistakably, irrevocably, undeniably, an unfinished space shuttle with its accompanying solid rocket boosters and twin engines.

The wind is knocked out of him and Hongjoong stumbles back speechless.

The shuttle stood nearly sixty meters tall and each single engine spanned five meters in diameter and eight meters in height; the biggest that anyone has ever been ambitious enough to build.

Hongjoong has so many questions he wants to ask but only one that his brain will allow.

“Who’s going to fly that thing?”

The Professor leads them onto a bridge overlooking the shuttle build and Hongjoong can't stop staring at it with a mixture of both fear and awe.

“We’ve been training a team for it in the simulators but we could always use a good instructor with real world experience. We’ve lost so many of our old space program crew in recent years. It’s fortuitous you found us when you did.”

"You didn't even know I still existed an hour ago." Hongjoong points out. "You were always going to go ahead with this mission anyway, what do you really need me for? I barely did an orbit."

"These astronauts have never even left the simulator." The Professor tells him. "There is not enough money or resources for us to do training missions in orbit. We simply cannot waste fuel for training purposes. This is the only chance we have and we have to get it right the first time."

"No pressure then." Hongjoong laughs at the ridiculous scenario. “So you want me to train your new pilots?”

“So to speak, yes.”

“NASA kicked me out of the program before I finished, remember?”

“I do."

"For being a liability with a death wish."

Doctor Park looks over, his graceful eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Yes, I remember." The old Professor sighs, "I was there. It was for your own good. You know that.”

Hongjoong tries not to dwell on the past and chooses to ignore the remark. "How good are your simulators? You're putting a lot of faith into those thing aren't you?"

“When you don't have the luxury of experience, all that's left is faith and training. We simply have no other choice. The past generation of NASA is dying. What's left of the old aerospace crew are either on the Lazarus mission, on their death beds or in their graves. You survived precisely because you were kicked out of training before graduation. I like to think it is fate that brought you here today."

Hongjoong listens, though begins to wonder if the Professor's brilliance is merging with insanity.

"We need a new generation of pilots for the rescue missions Hongjoong, and what good is it to discover new worlds if we have no pilots to take us there?"

“That's another thing you haven’t answered Professor: how did you discover these new worlds? The nearest galaxy is light years away, without solving relativity and time dilation, it would take a lifetime to reach."

The old man turns to his son with a cheeky grin. “Didn’t I tell you he’s the right one?”

“Hm.” The younger Park replies non-commitally.

“We received signals from Saturn's location that indicates the presence of three new potential worlds and several more exo planets that may be be orbiting a new black hole. We believe They sent the signals to Earth."

Hongjoong laughs. “They? What? You have ghosts too? Giving you secret binary messages?”

“What if it came from the same beings that sent you here?”

“A bit of a crazy coincidence isn't it?”

“There are no coincidences in science.” The Professor replies with a smile. "And yet, here you are."

Hongjoong shakes his head at the impossible scenarios presented to him. “The nearest star system is too far. Everyone would be dead by the time they arrived. You need a space elevator going at the speed of light.”

"That's cute." Doctor Park scoffs. “We prefer the scientific term for that: worm hole. And to answer your question, yes we found one near Saturn.”

“Worm holes aren’t a naturally occurring anomaly, they have to be created.”

“Thank you, I am aware of that.”The Doctor smiles smugly. “We think They must have formed it and provided us with the location of its existence. We have sent probes into it, followed by our Lazarus mission astronauts and received at least 3 binary pings back.”

“What is this They you keep referring to? You think some alien Godlike beings are out there helping us save our race?” Hongjoong asks incredulously. “That sounds insane.”

“Well it worked for Lazarus didn’t it?”

“That’s a just story!” Hongjoong says in exasperation, turning towards the Doctor. “Are you seriously suggesting we base a billion dollar once-in-a -lifetime-mission on a story and a few binary pings?”

“Of course not." Doctor Park replies snarkily. "We also jotted an equation down in chalk and pressed a few buttons on a calculator. But as I recall, out of the three of us, only two are astrophysicists. One did not actually finish the training.”

“Seonghwa…”

“No, your son is right Professor." Hongjoong says with a clenched jaw. “I didn’t finish. I am the least qualified here. But you have to admit this sounds crazy to an outsider. Let’s say your shuttle makes it, let’s say your new pilots survive, let’s say your worm hole works, let’s say you discover new worlds, let's say your Lazarus astronauts are alive, how can you transport 7 billion people across space?"

Hongjoong takes the time to look at his old Professor now. They first met when Hongjoong was still a teenager bursting with arrogance and over confidence but lacking any real discipline. He was wild and uncontrollable but always capable. Many hard years have passed them both now, and the once spritely Professor was harshly weathered by time, over burdened with intelligence and weighed down by responsibility.

"You’ve been trying to solve the mass exodus equation for years now Professor. So unless you’ve solved it already, this whole thing is futile isn't it?"

Doctor Park opens his mouth to offer more evidence and data to the contrary but his father silences him with a gentle hand on his arm.

"Your brother's generation will be the first to starve or last to suffocate. The End is inevitable Hongjoong. Whether you believe in our mission or not, no matter how preposterous it sounds to you, don't they deserve our best efforts to save them? We could spend those billions on Earth of course but it would only delay a certain death. Humans were born here but we don’t all have to die here.”

Hongjoong lets out a defeated sigh.

“All we are asking for is some of your flight training skills from the old program." The old man says, motioning to the shuttle in front of them. "We need the knowledge yes, but more than that, we need the bravery and problem solving skills that you were so good at."

"Thought you all said I was a liability?"

"I'll take a liability over the extinction of humankind." The Professor shrugs.

“I’ll have to think about it." Hongjoong shakes his head. "I still have a family.”

“I know. So help save them.”

*

The drive home is filled with Wooyoung's mile-a-minute-situation report (he had the time of his life it seems) but it’s the Professor's words that keep echoing in Hongjoong’s mind:

Your brother's generation will be the first to starve or last to suffocate.

“Hongjoong?”

“Yeah?”

“How come they knew all those things about you?”

Hongjoong shifts uncomfortably in his seat. It's the question he's been waiting for. He knows his brothers were never really told about his past, they were much too young then and he had lived away from home for most of those years.

“I used to be in the military aerospace program for NASA.”

"Oh my god, so it's true?!" Wooyoung stares at him with big round eyes and if he weren't such a little shit, Hongjoong might have called it cute. “So can you fly rocket ships?”

“Yes.”

“Well how come you never told us that?! Was it when you were away?”

“Yeah, you were just a little kid then. Mum and dad were going to tell you when you were older.”

“Have you been into space?”

“Yes.”

“Oh my god!” Wooyoung screeches again. “Why aren’t you doing that now then?"

“It’s complicated. You know that." Hongjoong sighs. "Things don't always go to plan."

The mood suddenly drops in the truck and Hongjoong had been expecting that too.

"I needed to come home and take care of the farm and everything.”

“And us.” Wooyoung adds quietly, deflating in his seat in his seat as the realisation of his brother's history hits him all at once. “Did you have to give it up because of me and Yunho?”

Hongjoong takes in his brother's dejected face and slows the truck to a stop on the side of the road.

“Hey listen, I left the program for a lot of reasons. I don’t regret having you and Yunho. I've never regretted it. None of this is your fault or his. Don’t ever let someone tell you otherwise okay?”

Wooyoung nods but doesn’t make eye contact. “But you could’ve been an astronaut?”

“I could’ve been a lot of things but my job now is important too, it's the most important. I don’t hate my life Wooyoung, I promise."

Wooyoung just shrugs in response and Hongjoong knows that despite what he just said, his brother is letting the guilt take over.

"Things don't always go to plan, I know you know that. Sometimes something worse happens but sometimes something better comes along. I mean, it's because of you that we found those scientists today and they offered me a job training the new pilots in their program. They might even let you could come visit and see the robots again.”

Wooyoung lifts his head in interest.

“Really?”

“Sure.”

That was a minor lie. He hadn’t committed to anything yet and he definitely wasn’t in any position to be making requests to NASA.

“Can I train too?”

Hongjoong laughs as he turns the engine on and manoeuvres the truck back onto the road.

“Sorry kiddo, you're still too young. NASA don’t except fourteen year old gremlins.”

[formula-fun]

.

[exogenesis-lights]

And they called the sandwich place di angelo's

[doevademe]

I've been super busy these past couple of weeks, but finally, I'm done.

The next chapter of Cycle of Death will be up within the next 24 hours.

[isbeeshy]

Watched two episodes of dead boy detectives

Its cute and I enjoy the characters but it's not really my cup of tea i think

But GODDAMN does Esther the witch not serve cunt! I might keep watching just for her! That actress is giving a hell of a performance

[lavampira]

I’m trying so hard to power through this book but it has me fighting for my life to keep my attention span in it

[queenie-ofthe-void]

A Desperate Fool - Part 6

Part 5

Last Time: Nancy starts filling in the gaps of everything Eddie's missed

~~~

Max, Lucas, and Erica were the first to quit calling. Hell, they’d always been more Steve’s than Eddie’s, since he’d adopted Max with the last of his parents’ trust money when he turned nineteen. After the kids graduated, Steve had set himself, Max, and Robin up in a cheap two bedroom apartment in Chicago where they all started school. Then Lucas moved in only a few months later– Max and Lucas in one room, Robin and Steve in the other. Only for Eddie to then uproot Steve to LA just before he could finish his degree, selfishly isolating him from his family.

Dustin was the next to disappear. They were close, and Eddie considered the kid one of his best friends. It apparently didn’t matter, which–just like with the other three–he should’ve seen coming. Steve was practically a brother to Dustin, same as Max. Eddie just always thought the split was more fifty-fifty with Dustin. It was a thick pill to swallow, but he managed.

He reached his final breaking point when Nancy and Mike started ignoring him. Eddie could make excuses for the rest of them, they were Steve’s adopted, puzzle-piece family. The Wheeler’s were Eddie’s family by blood. 

His parents kicked him out for kissing the neighbor boy– well, his adopted parents. Turns out Karen Wheeler had put him up for adoption three years before she met Ted, but was too scared to reach out, hoping he was happy with his new family. When little twelve year old Eddie showed up with a social worker at her door the next day, however, Karen welcomed him with open arms. He figures he’d be dead if it wasn’t for them, caught up running petty crimes just like his dad.

But that all meant Mike and Nancy were supposed to love him, not Steve. He called non-stop once he’d finally understood what was happening, but they never answered. Eddie remembers lying in bed for days, ruminating on how they’d picked golden boy Steve Harrington over their own family. Old feelings of neglect and rejection curdled up in Eddie’s stomach. A reminder that he was just a burden. Some lost, broken, queer kid they never asked for, forced onto them when Karen and Ted already had three mouths to feed.

Eddie's resentment towards everyone carried the band through their first national tour. He wanted to kick-off on a festival tour in Europe once they finished, but the band was exhausted. They were desperate to take a break while Metal Munson was still riding on top of the world, a full-fledged rockstar getting invites to behind-the-scenes parties, walking the red carpet, and casually dating celebrities. 

But he still loved his Corroded boys, so he agreed, thinking the break would allow them time to recover and give him more time to reap the benefits of a rockstar lifestyle. 

Except staying out every night started to lose its shine. The parties were duller than he remembered, the lights less bright. Mindless flirting with boys only interested in Metal Munson strained his smile. Strange, strong hands started to feel like sandpaper across his bare skin, the tangled sheets between them constricting Eddie until he couldn’t breathe. 

It all came crashing down when he woke up in an unfamiliar bed next to a man with fluffy brown hair, moles scattered across his back. Brilliant, sky blue eyes staring back at him.

Eddie quit going out. Stopped answering phone calls– not that the calls came from anyone who actually mattered. 

Because Steve never called. Not once, still hasn’t. And Eddie doesn't think he ever will.

~~~

Part 7

Tag List!!!

@sadisticaltarts @5ammi90 @blacklegsanji21 @jaytriesstrangerthings

@thewickedkat you didn't actually asked to be added to the tags, but I included you bc of your comment on the last part. If you'd like to not be included next time just lmk <3

[hopeswriting]

part 1, part 2

CW: Swearing

Xanxus would wonder if he went insane, but one thing his years in the slums didn’t fuck up is his perfect eyesight.

The shrimp and his mom have apparently finally realized they’ve been mafia all along all these years, and how the hell he’s the only one to realize it’s all bullshit?

“Timoteo-san, Darling,” Nana started pleasantly out of the blue at dinner. “Would it be okay of me to accompany Iemitsu at work when possible? I’ve been a little ashamed lately to not know much about it even after all these years, and frankly, I’d love it too if it could be a way for us to spend more time together. You see, I miss my husband on the daily quite a lot.” She laughed bashfully, looking at Iemitsu with loving eyes.

It came out so out of left field, Xanxus almost snapped at her right there and then.

The fuck did she say?

It shouldn’t have felt like it came out of left field. How could he have possibly missed that kind of development? It’s not as if he ever stopped watching, nor did his brothers, yet the surprise was genuine from all of them.

Iemitsu, lovesick fool as he’s ever been, predictably beamed, tears welling up in his eyes, and started singing praises at his beloved wife. The old man warmly welcomed the new too, brightening and giving his accord right away. His brothers considered the new a moment before dismissing it in the next instant.

Xanxus felt a chill run down his spine looking at the shrimp smiling and laughing at his parents’ antics, not sparing the rest of them a glance, the very image of someone who learned the new at the same time as them. As if—as if there could be any other explanation to Nana’s behavior but him.

So the shrimp can act now, can he?

News fucking flash.

But there was no fool at the table that day like every other.

The first actual reaction to Nana’s words was the old man glancing at the shrimp, with that look he gives him sometimes. Iemitsu managed not to, but Xanxus caught the aborted movement anyway. Rico and himself looked at the shrimp too before catching each other’s eye.

CEDEF and Vongola at large welcomed the new change warmly too, making it the new gossip going through the rumor mill.

Is Nana Sawada finally shedding her old civilian life to give herself fully to the family? Could they expect Iemitsu to eventually choose an official right-hand man or add his wife to his team of his most trusted subordinates? Does that mean…

They trail off at this part, giving each other eloquent looks, letting the unsaid speak for them.

The fools. Just as there’s a rule against a Vongola Boss being of the CEDEF’s boss’ lineage, the CEDEF’s boss can’t pass down his position to any of his relatives, let alone his fucking son. Or do they really think they’d rather break the latter rule instead of the former?

That Iemitsu’s allowed to bring his wife at work is already cutting it close, and adding to it they were allowed to live in the Vongola mansion, the old man better have a plan for when someone will inevitably confront him on the matter.

There were the ones who weren’t so happy at the news too, because there’s always those trashes finding reasons to bitch about this and that, though in this case Xanxus leans more on their side, but generally speaking, Nana Sawada involving herself more in the family has been considered a joyful turn of event.

Ha! “Joyful” his ass. If it was only Nana Sawada, he could pretend to not be as smart as he is and believe it, but the shrimp?

Three years old, and he was already giving them that annoying look of his whenever anyone tried to make him swallow the pill of being mafia through the childish framing of good guys versus bad guys. But now six years old, and he suddenly agrees Vongola are the good guys and he wants to become one of them too?

Give Xanxus a fucking break.

Soon, the sight of Nana anywhere else than at functions and events the wife of the CEDEF’s boss couldn’t be absent from lost its novelty, people moving on and minding their own businesses again, but the fuck if Xanxus will.

He’s been watching them more carefully than before, the shrimp more so than his mom, and turns out he should have seen it coming. The shrimp’s changed, and look at him fucking go, walking the fine line of making it just noticeable enough for the people he wants them to notice to pick up on it, while keeping it subtle enough for the people who know him to not be tipped off by it.

Truthfully, they’ve yet to do anything really noteworthy, let alone anything truly suspicious. They willingly show up at more functions than before, when before they went only to the ones they couldn’t be absent from. They greet the people that ought to be greeted, Nana at Iemitsu’s arm and the shrimp’s hand securely in hers, but instead of waiting in a corner after until the soonest it was polite of them to leave, they keep mingling with the guests. Talking to them, making conversations. Laughing together. Being looked down upon and trying their luck elsewhere. Not finding them good enough and trying their luck elsewhere. Nana along with Iemitsu, but sometimes alone too, often alone, and the shrimp at the kiddies’ corner.

The kiddies’ corner, but by no means the least important corner of these functions, nowhere even close. Not when they’re the future of the mafia, and any older and more experienced mafioso worth his salt, let alone a mafia boss, makes it a point to watch over them, to raise and teach them, to gain their favors and loyalty.

Not when they’re the ones who’ll grow up to inherit the many positions that keep the mafia and Vongola turning, prospering and powerful.

After Nana made it known to the old man she planned to become more involved in the family business, she changed the shrimp’s bodyguards. Not all of them, but she handpicked the new ones who are to be the closest to him and stay with him at all times.

Their backgrounds were thoroughly checked, and all information about them shared among them as it’s customary after the old man gave his approval, but she handpicked them. Or more like gave her approval after the shrimp did.

Xanxus would be overstepping if he looked into what Nana does at CEDEF, so who the fuck knows what does she do there, but Iemitsu is no fool, no matter how much he likes to play the part of it. He must only allow her around the lower ranks and their works, but then again, what the fuck does it matter when she’s the CEDEF’s boss’s wife?

Iemitsu’s no fool, but who else is he supposed to unwind to at night and trust the most in this world?

It doesn’t sit right with him either that Nana looks perfectly fine with that. There’s no reason she shouldn’t be, but she looks like this is where she wanted to be all along.

It’s the same with they way they’re acting with the staff at the mansion. It’s the same way they’ve always been acting with them, saying “Please”, “Thank you”, “Sorry”, “Good morning”, “Would you…?” and “How are you?” like they’re trying to win some fucking most annoyingly polite and considerate people in the world contest, as if they still don’t realize why not anyone else does the same.

Some because they’re assholes, and Xanxus would count himself among them and doesn’t give a shit about it, but mostly they can’t afford their staff to ever forget their place even when off work. Not when they’re the ones who literally watch over their sleep. Now when they’re the ones patching them up at their weakest. Now when they’re the ones entrusted with their kids.

Not when they could be their downfall, should they have the balls, skills and luck for it, working at the heart of the Vongola as they are.

Of course they’re perfectly aware of it too, have to be if they want to keep their jobs, and so far none of them has ever shown the shrimp and his mom anything but strict professionalism in return, but it doesn’t mean they might not be thinking any less. That they don’t care about hierarchy because they’re seemingly unaware of the basic fact the mafia will collapse in and of itself without it no doubt made some of them lose all respect for them, but it leaves everyone else, and they’re all only humans at the end of the day. Especially now there’s intent behind the kindness the shrimp and his mom indiscriminately show them.

Xanxus would know. The first person to become one of his people is Alberta, his former nanny. The second’s one’s Sarah, his former home tutor who caught him up on his education so he wouldn’t be humiliated and looked down upon when they sent him to private school along with the other mafia kids his age.

Xanxus would be overstepping too if he looked into what the shrimp’s been up to at school lately, but he heard his teachers find him more hard-working than before. By which they mean and fail to realize it’s that he’s actually less reluctant than before to learn, because the shrimp’s always been trying his best all along even if it’s never been enough for anyone.

None of these facts have to necessarily be concerning.

Except there’s only a few reasons he can think of as to why they’d be acting like that, only the one reason, and it’s driving him crazy that still, not anyone’s doing anything about it.

Whether Iemitsu is in on it too or not, of course he wouldn’t, but it still sure as hell could be considered insubordination at best, rebellion at worse, and Xanxus won’t care to confront him with that if it comes to that.

The old man’s silence on the matter is obvious too. He’d need much more than that to take action that’d be seen as reasonable considering the extent of the repercussions of even the littlest and most insignificant of his actions.

Richie can’t bother taking care of something that isn’t undeniably his and only his to take care of to save his life. Max’s too self-assured to deem a six years old’s actions concerning, no matter what his actions are. Rico…

The fuck if Xanxus knows, but he has yet to deem it worth acknowledging the matter. That works for Xanxus, as the longer this new status quo lasts, the more he can prepare himself for when it breaks, but he isn’t happy about it.

The shrimp and his mom are obviously trying to build themselves a network, to build connections, to gather allies, if not support too. They seem to have decided to go about it starting from the bottom of the ladder.

And trying to make the shrimp the face of the people with that face and that personality he has?

Fucking hell.

*

“Master Xanxus,” Anil says after knocking at his door. “Nana Sawada is here.”

“Let her in.”

She walks in, in his sitting room instead of his office, and she better fucking be grateful for it.

“Hello, Xanxus-kun. You asked to see me?”

“I wasn’t asking.”

The smile on her lips doesn’t falter. “I’m sad to hear it. Here I was hoping we could enjoy some time together having a friendly conversation. I don’t suppose you’ll agree to let us speak Japanese then? You know how homesick I can be at times.”

“Then you should have had Iemitsu move to Japan instead,” he says in Italian.

Nana sits on the couch, her smile still not faltering. “Then at least allow me to speak Japanese,” she says, switching to Japanese without waiting for his permission.

“I didn’t allow you to sit.”

She huffs a laugh before finally dropping the meaningless pleasantries, turning her cheerful smile into the slightest turn of her lips upwards. “You get to demand to see me whenever you want, but I don’t need your permission for something as small as when I can sit. Not when it’s only the two of us.”

Xanxus sits on the armchair next to the couch, forcing her to turn her neck to look him in the eye, the low table in front of them bare of any food or drinks. It’s petty power and mind play unbefitting of both their ranks, but anything more would give more weight to this meeting than they’d both want to deal with.

“This is a friendly conversation,” he decides to say first.

“Oh?”

“You heard me. So do friendly tell me just what you think the shrimp and you have been doing lately?”

“What are you under the impression we’ve been doing? For you to summon me like this.”

Xanxus scoffs. “Fucking spare me any of us playing dumb, will you?”

Nana looks at him for a beat of silence, unblinking. “Tsuna wants friends, that’s all. He’s just trying to break out of his shell more to make it happen, and I’m helping him with it.” Xanxus just barely restrains himself from rolling his eyes. He bores his eyes into her instead, and she gives in, though it might have been her plan all along. “He wants a family.”

“Ha!” Xanxus leans forwards, digging his fingers in the armrest. A grin pulls at his lips he can’t be sure isn’t a snarl, and so he smooths his face in a composed mask again. “Then let me ask you again just what do you think you’ve been doing?”

“Would you or any of your brothers keep Iemitsu at his job when you become Vongola Decimo?”

Xanxus misses a beat, the question unexpected. “Of course not.”

It’d even be one of the first positions they’d replace. Iemitsu isn’t lacking at being the CEDEF’s boss, but he’s entirely too much an embodiment of the ninth’s generation, and it’s no secret for anyone he’s the man the old man trusts the most after his Guardians.

“That’s right. And the CEDEF isn’t the CEDEF’s boss’ in a way they can pass it down to anyone but their successor. But you’d have me wait and do nothing?”

“You’re only drawing attention to himself that will bite him in the ass when it doesn’t have to happen at all.”

“Come now, Xanxus-kun,” she says, tilting her head. “Now you’re just calling me stupid to my face. Of course this is attention that is bound to be turned to him sooner than later. We’re just taking control of it.” Xanxus huffs, leaning back against the armchair. It was worth a shot. “Actually, it’s even one of the first things that’ll happen once one of you becomes Vongola Decimo, isn’t it? You’ll decide what to do about the remaining heirs.”

“So fucking what? If you have something to say about our characters, then just spit it out.”

“I’m willing to trust you.” Xanxus raises his eyebrow. ‘Willing to’, is she? “But I won’t trust anyone else on the matter. Can’t.”

“Do you even hear yourself? Your best shot is to keep waiting quietly until one of us becomes Vongola Decimo. What exactly do you think we’re going to do to him then? We’ll be all but too happy to give him the peaceful life in the furthest corner of the mafia he wants.”

“But Tsuna doesn’t just want a peaceful life. He wants to be happy too.”

That makes Xanxus a little speechless despite himself, a little disbelieving. “And that can’t happen as long as we’re part of the picture, is that what you’re fucking saying to me right now?” Nana says nothing, and he barks out a harsh laugh. “Some fucking gall you have. Not finding us good enough, but still wanting to build that happiness using us.”

“He’d just be taking what he’s due.”

Xanxus sobers up in a second, going still and unblinking, and she can’t stop herself from flinching, wincing. Good. “And what the fuck is that? He’s due something from us? I thought you were supposed to give something for that to happen first, instead of going against what you want to make use of.”

“I’d agree if you were only talking about me, but Tsuna’s as much Vongola as the rest of you. He’s as much an heir as the rest of you too, however much I wish he wasn’t.”

“Mafiosi children making it to six years old is a fucking lifetime worth being grateful for in most places in the mafia.”

Nana’s face crumbles at the mere thought of it. She intertwines her hands tight, tight enough to mark her skin with her nails, but she still can’t stop them from shaking.

She only half puts herself back together, her voice strangled. “And how far in adulthood I can expect him to make it?” Xanxus doesn’t trust his anger to speak again just yet, though he wishes she’d hear the scathing mockery in his voice. The old man made it all the way to his sixties fine enough, didn’t he? “I am grateful. But I’m also terrified. That’s exactly why—”

Xanxus kicks the low table, making her startle and tense. He clenches his jaw, gritting his teeth hard, but then forcefully makes himself relax.

He won’t get through her, that much is clear.

“And what is it that’s so much better than this he wants so fucking badly?”

It seems the answer’s obvious to her, yet she holds back her words after opening her mouth. When she opens it again, Xanxus knows it’s not the words she first planned to say that come out of her mouth. “You should come visit us at Namimori sometimes, Xanxus-kun. You could play with Tsuna, go out with him. You could help me cook all your favorites. We’d show you the neighborhood, the town and its people. I think you’d like it.”

Her smile is genuine and warm, and Xanxus dismisses her offer before even truly considering it first.

What a fucking joke. Don’t all roofs above your head and three meals a day look the same everywhere? And Vongola is the least likely roof to ever collapse on him.

“What else would you have him do?” she asks softly. “What else would you have me do? I’m his mother. Timoteo-san should officially name his successor any day now, right? So we’re already running out of time, and he only has Iemitsu’s reputation to his name. But you’d still have me wait?”

Xanxus snorts. “Now you’re the one calling me fucking stupid to my face.”

The shrimp is no such harmless and powerless figure within Vongola, has never been so, and not just because of the inherent influence, status and authority given to him through his lineage. His flames alone would be more than enough for people to rally behind him.

They still could find him incompetent at everything else, but there’s always ways around an incompetent boss.

A weak boss, on the other hand, is a lot harder to deal with without taking extreme measures.

“Fine,” she says, smiling. “Tsuna can stand on his own just fine, of course, and I know that better than anyone else. But that’d just make them find him worth using, and I won’t stand for that.”

Xanxus frowns. So this is it, is it? They’re having the same conversation, but only Xanxus understands all the nuances of it.

Better they find him worth using than them actually becoming interested and invested in him.

“Should I give you a friendly bit of advice seeing as we’re having a friendly conversation?” Something chiding and fond flickers across Nana’s face, so motherly, it makes him uneasy. “You have this under control only until they take it away from you. Only until you’ll have to give it away to them.”

“I won’t let that happen.”

“That’s nice and all, but do you get what it’d mean if you were to succeed?��

Nana keeps holding his gaze, unwavering, because of fucking course she does.

Xanxus stands, uncaring of the sneer that slips past him. What a waste of time this was, but at least now he knows exactly where he needs to stand.

“Xanxus-kun.” She holds her hand out to him, and Xanxus can’t help but let his eyes linger on the gesture.

She’s the only mother he’s ever known in the mansion, and though she’s never tried to become their mom too, Xanxus’ never let her be motherly towards him either.

He doesn’t take her hand.

Nana takes it gracefully like she always does, smiling as she takes her hand back. “I know you’re scared.” Xanxus glares at her. “Worried, then. Angry. But I promise he has no intention to take anything that belongs to you and your brothers away from you. He won’t ever do that, you know him. So let us please not be enemies of each other.”

Ha. “Let us not be enemies of each other”, and not “Let us stand together”, huh?

Xanxus feels incredibly stupid to have ever thought her clueless in and unaware of matters of politics.

*

Xanxus silently sneaks up behind the shrimp, but doesn’t try to conceal his presence from him. His bodyguard lets him, not alerting the shrimp, and so he startles when Xanxus picks him off his feet by the collar of his shirt.

“Let go of me, let go of me!” he screams in fear and panic, kicking his feet and flailing his arms wildly. “Billy-san!” He flares his flames, wrapping his hands around his wrist, and Xanxus feels the heat increasing against his skin.

It’s much too slow a reaction, but at least it’s the correct one.

“How many times must we tell you to always remain aware of your surroundings even at home?”

The shrimp lets go of his wrist, whipping his head to look at him, all tension leaving his body near instantly. “Xan-nii! You scared me!”

He pouts, and Xanxus puts him back down on his feet, rolling his eyes.

“I apologize, master Tsunayoshi,” his bodyguard says.

“Ah, no, it’s okay.” Xanxus glances at him at the same time the shrimp gives him an eloquent look, smiling, and he steps back to give them privacy. “I was paying attention,” he says, looking back at him.

“Shrimp,” Xanxus cuts him off before he can tell him it’s just that he doesn’t see him as a threat to him. He doesn’t want to hear it today. “Whatever you’re planning to do, stop it while you still can.”

Xanxus failed to knock some sense in the mother, but maybe the son will fucking listen.

Or maybe not, a serious and determined look taking over the shrimp’s face.

“I just—”

“Want friends, yes, yes,” he parrots mockingly. “But you want a family too, don’t you?”

The shrimp frowns, before some sort of realization dawns on him. He shakes his head. “No, not like that.” Xanxus’ brow twitches. What does that mean? Maybe he also was missing some nuance when talking to Nana. “Xan-nii—” He steps forwards, but stops himself from reaching out to him. “Home doesn’t have to only be Vongola, does it?” he says softly, carefully, watching out for his reaction. “And family either.”

Right. Xanxus wasn’t missing anything, but he sure as fuck still doesn’t get it.

Vongola is the first home he’s ever had. Maybe not family too, but sure as hell family in the way everyone else means it.

Rico’s the one who constantly stayed by his side for days on end after his first kill, even sleeping with him, and refusing to leave no matter how many times or how violently Xanxus snapped at him until he could finally eat with his hands without throwing up the food right after.

Max’s the one who taught him he didn’t have to get rid of his temper, only had to learn to control it to help him get the things he wants faster and easier, and he never let it make him cower from him all the while.

Richie’s the one who taught him about pride, who looked at a pathetic boy from the slums with only a delusional mother for family and told him he was allowed pride too, especially considering how hard he was working for it.

The old man is the one who took him in and out of the slums.

Vongola is the only home Xanxus wants and gives a shit about.

“You think you’re so much fucking better than us.”

The shrimp steps back, frowning, confused. “That’s not true. I like you, Xan-nii. You always look at me even if I don’t make you. You always look at people, and I like that.” Xanxus would feel guilty if he was a better person. That’s just survival, something he picked up from the slums and proved useful in the Vongola mansion too, so of course he kept it and sharpened it. “I like Rico-nii, Max-nii and Richi-nii too. Grandpa too. I just…”

Xanxus bristles at the worried look he gives him, tensing. He never could get used to the perceptiveness that apparently runs through their blood. Some dumb fuck called it hyper intuition, as if there’s something mystical or supernatural to it when it’s just a matter of knowing people and paying attention to them, but it does always put him the most on edge when coming from the shrimp.

Nana said the old man should officially announce his successor any day now.

He should, but he has yet to do it even if Xanxus is the only and obvious choice to make.

He’s been the most favorite Vongola Decimo candidate for a year now, give or take, which is no fucking easy feat when his brothers have been fighting him tooth and nails all along to replace him in that position. But he’s been holding on strong, yet the old man is still clearly hesitating.

Xanxus still has to find any of his Guardians compared to his brothers. Though as far as Vongola and the mafia at large know, he already has the six of them and it’s just a matter of him making it official, if for no other reason than because he got sick of all those trashes throwing themselves at him in the hope of becoming his Guardian. Obviously the old man wouldn’t be fooled by it, but it still doesn’t explain it. It’s not like they’d do the passing of the rings right after announcing the official successor, and it’s not as if Xanxus hasn’t been searching for his Guardians.

The fuck else can Xanxus do to finally be enough in the old man’s eyes too? To receive the same look he sometimes gives the shrimp, and the same look of approval and pride he gives to his brothers?

He wishes he knew.

He already tried everything and succeed at them.

He wishes the old man would just tell him what it is, but the longer he doesn’t, even now, the more resolved Xanxus becomes to find out himself.

The shrimp grabs his hand, obviously growing uneasy at his silence. “Xan-nii. I don’t care about Vongola, I swear. You can have it.”

He doesn’t fucking say.

Xanxus wishes he’d care.

You’re careful about the things you do to something you care about, careful not to end up breaking them.

“So you’re saying you could take it from us if you wanted to?”

The shrimp falters, loosening his hold on his hand. “No, that’s not…”

Xanxus frees his hand fully, crouching in front of him. “Listen, Shrimp. Why do you think we try so hard to have people on our side and keep them on our side? The people’s will is power in and of itself. Keep acting like that, and they’ll make you want Vongola too.”

“But I have my will too,” he says, frowning. “I won’t let them.”

“Yeah, great fucking idea. And what do you think will happen to Vongola when you’ll fight about who gets to do what they want?”

The shrimp stops frowning, clearly not confused by his words, clearly getting the meaning of them perfectly.

He still only gives him a shrug, keeping holding his gaze, unwavering.

Because of fucking course he does.

This is now or never to nip this in the bud, Xanxus feels it deep in his guts. To nip him in the bud.

Federico be damned, because there’ll be no turning back if they let this grow any further. If they let him grow any further.

But Xanxus’ the one the shrimp first came to, bruised from the beating he got at school, and the one in front of whom he burst out crying. Xanxus had gone to his school the very same day, and it didn’t help him make friends, but no one ever put a hand on him ever again, that’s for fucking sure.

Xanxus’ the one he first called by his nickname even if he never made any effort to scare him less, what with his temper, cursing and rough appearance.

Xanxus’ the one he confesses to about how much he doesn’t like all his mafia training, education and upbringing, and how he often wonders what it’d be like if he was just normal. Xanxus mocks him and makes fun of him for it too, but apparently not in a way that hurts him when other people do the same.

There’s only ever been family to Xanxus ever since the old man took him in, but there’s always been family and family to the shrimp, and he’s the one who should know they were never meant to be made to choose between the two.

Xanxus laughs.

What a fucking mess.

[wistfulwillows]

Normalize filler episodes, I need more of the random yet fun stuff