#Salute tha click

[dadilovefishing]

The Start of the Beginning… Again

Miguel O’hara x Filipina reader

Chapter 2

Previously

Earth-6301

Year 2099

Peter groans waking up with a throbbing headache, he tries to move but notices that he’s been hogtied up with his limbs in the air behind him.

‘Well isn’t this great’ he thought

Earth 1610

“Honestly if I had a nickel for every time I woke up bruised and tied up I would have 2 nickels which isn’t much but I wouldn’t be surprised if it happens again.” Peter says, shrugging it off while Miles laughs awkwardly remembering their first interaction together.

“Anyways” Peter continues

“I woke up in this office lab looking room. Couldn’t really tell where I was but I saw that the goblin I was supposed to bring back to HQ was in the same position as me but still passed out, then I saw (Y/n) hunched over on her desk.”

Earth-6301

Year 2099

“I guess now I have to deal with you too huh.” You say out loud getting up from her chair, turning around and leans back against her desk.

“Gabi, can you keep looking into that device while I deal with him.” You tell her, a purple hologram of what looks like a teenage girl pops up and salutes you then disappears again.

“Gabi?” Peter questions quietly to himself but sees the gizmo on your desk plugged with a bunch of wires, he panics.

“H-hey you shouldn’t be messing with tha-” Peter exclaims but was cut off from the excruciating pain of glitching.

“Just like the goblin huh?” You mutter to yourself as you watch Peter glitch and writhe in pain.

“Well I certainly don’t miss that” Peter groans. You drag your chair in front of Peter and sit back down and lean back against it. You bring out your foot to tilt Peter’s chin to look up at you. You look down at him, deactivating your mask then clicking your tongue.

“So you wanna explain why you’re messing with inter dimensional travel hm?” You question him. Peter looks up at you taking in your appearance, he feels like he’s seen you before and he also notices that it looks like you haven’t slept in days. You patiently wait for an answer as Peter continues to ponder who you look like, but sigh as you retract your foot back letting his chin hit the ground bringing Peter back to reality and scoot back away from him.

“I mean do you even know the dangers of entering another dimension where you don’t even belong? You could rip a fucking black hole into my universe just by interacting with it.” You groan pinching the temples of your forehead trying to soothe your oncoming headache.

“Look like I was trying to explain earlier but you decided to knock me out instead. I was just here trying to get this guy over here.” Peter motions his head at the passed out goblin beside him.

“And take him back to where he belongs, because long story short there was someone who was messing with multiverse stuff which caused a ripple effect onto every other universe causing people getting sucked into these vortexes and getting shot out into a different dimension.” Peter explains and pauses looking at you for a reaction but you just stare at him.

“Before you know it… the universe that they enter will collapse since they obviously don’t belong there.” Peter adds and chuckles awkwardly, inwardly cursing at Miguel for forcing him to pick up this mission.

“I see…” You say leaning back into your chair and slouching against it crossing your arms.

“I was afraid that his theories would be right.” You sigh solemnly, the hologram of a teenage girl pops up in front of you.

“Sooo I found out that the watch has the same coding as papa's temporal displacement machine but with a few changes, and it’s probably because they’re using it to travel between dimensions rather than time travel.” Gabi concludes, kicking her holographic soccer ball and keeping it up.

“Thank you Gabi, just keep looking into it if it’s unstable”

“You got it mom” Gabi fizzles out

Earth-1610

“Wait wait wait wait- hold on!” Gwen cuts Peter off from continuing his story.

“(Y/n) has an ai assistant?” Gwen questions Peter rolls his eyes.

“Kid, if you forgot she literally lives in the future” Peter reiterates.

“No, no I mean her AI assistant is…” Gwen pauses then whispers the next part “Miguel’s dead daughter?” She asks and Peter shrugs.

“Surprised you haven’t met her yet. She hangs out with Lyla a lot but yeah, as I was saying…”

Earth-6301

Year 2099

“Wait time travel?” Peter asks incredulously, you look at him weirdly as if that’s the first time anyone has ever heard of time travel.

Earth-1610

“She calls her mom?” Miles asks

“Just let me finish!”

Earth-6301

Year 2099

“What, you’ve never heard of time travel or something?” You question him

“No no no, I’ve heard of time travel… of course I’ve heard of time travel! It’s in the name.” Peter exclaims and you still look at him with a blank stare.

“So you guys never explored inter dimensional travelling?” Peter asks, breaking the silence only to be answered with a sigh, you pull out your watch and put up a display of your theories.

“A long time ago… I think maybe four years ago the idea of inter dimensional travelling was brought up by my boss. You see I work at alchemax, you probably have a version of a high tech science company or something in your world… Anyways our boss was grief stricken he wa-“

“Was your boss’s name kingpin by any chance?” Peter cuts you off and you look at him weirdly

“W-what? No, what kind of name is that? Anyways he was grief stricke-“ you were cut off once more by a loud crash, you turned your attention to the source of the noise and saw that the goblin was thrashing around trying to get out of his confinement. You sigh, getting up to activate your yantok and shock him again, he passes out once more.

“Ano ba?” You click your tongue in annoyance and return back to your chair. “At this point he’s just embarrassing himself. Like I was saying our boss… his name is Tyler Stone, was so grief stricken from the loss of his son and wife dying in a shootout that happened not too long after the alchemax here in Nueva York was established he proposed the idea of inter dimensional travelling. Of course he didn’t push through with it since it was brought to his attention that it would be too dangerous and risky to mess with anything beyond our current understanding so it was decided that time travel was the best option. You see with time travel, it’s quite much more simple and less complex than travelling through the multiverse or getting something else from somewhere else. With time travel you’re just travelling in your own dimension and the only thing you’d be disrupting is the certain events that people have experienced which in turn would alter their personalities which isn’t really an issue because our theory was that somewhere along our timeline it’ll split when an event that would have a major consequence which would be balanced either way, you win some you lose some. So for example, it’s simple really.”

You pull up a picture of what looks like to be a tree branch

“Let’s say this is you, the moment you were born. This could split into many different ways of what could happen.” You say and point at the start of the tree branch

“In one timeline, you could’ve died from SIDS, you’re done, this timeline of your story ends here. In this timeline you live with no freak accidents and whatever, and in this other timeline your mom could’ve dropped you or you had a life altering injury something like it that would leave you with lasting effects. That’s just the gist of it, at some points different versions of you in this universe can experience the same thing but because of how your past experiences shaped you, you could have different outcomes depending how alternate timeline versions of yourselves react to said cross point event. Anyways don’t take my word for it too seriously since theory is just theory unless you can prove that it’s absolute law.” You turn off your watch

“As I was saying, disrupting your own timeline or universe or whatever it’s called, as long as you're interacting within your own world, everything should be fine because there will always be that one time line that will split off with a different consequence which creates some sort of balance. But the catch when it comes to time travelling and fixing the past to create your desired result, you MUST follow every single path down to the very second to prevent any thing that you don’t want to deal with and want things to be almost exactly the way it is when you come back to the present. Yes, yes I know ‘but what about the other version of yous in the other timelines?’ Well you don’t have to think about them because they’re not your problem, just need to accept it even though it will leave you with an icky feeling but hey what would I know? This was how I got the explanation for this stuff. I might be missing some things but that’s most of it I believe… Who knows, I’m just a geneticist trying to find cures for up and coming diseases that don’t have any known antidote and help the betterment of man kind. But yeah I need to stop getting side tracked.” You yawn and look at your watch to check the time.

“Bwiset, it’s almost five am. Yeah we chose time travel since it’s the least dangerous option but long story short, Tyler was so desperate to get his family back that he rushed the whole process and fired up an interns shit job of a temporal displacement and that sucker exploded as expected since that stupid intern stole early drafts of the temporal displacement that still had a lot of setbacks and wasn’t deem stable by any of the actual professionals and rushed it in hopes to get a promotion right away. And yeah a lot of people died… yeah after that alchemax went back to “normal” and is now under strict guidelines if we want to start up another experiment like that to prevent shit like this happening again.”

You sigh leaning back.

“Diyos ko, bakit naman kailangan harahapin kong ito ng nag-iisa” you groan and spin in your chair to face your desk. Peter took notice of your silence and saw that you were staring at a picture frame, he couldn’t make out who was in the picture frame thanks to the sunrise’s reflection.

“I’ll deal with you later but right now I have more pressing matters to deal with right now.” You state and start working with chemicals and pull out a tray of Petri dishes.

“Uh so do you plan on letting me go or something? Did you forget about what I just told you?” Peter asks, staring at your back remembering that he was hogtied up in your blue digital webbing.

All of a sudden a bright orange vortex appears in your room.

“Ah shit I forgot about him.” Peter groans

An: sorry for a really late update, I was tryna make this scrumptious and had to revise a lot of plot lines. Like⁉️ I had three very different drafts of chapter 2😧

[traveler-at-heart]

I’m only dreaming

Request from @poptartpoppyy: How about something With Natasha and an S/o who tends to fall asleep a lot and in random places.

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader - Fluff with some hurt/comfort.

Thank you for the request! And sorry for the whiplash, I went from extreme fluff to sad times in a second. 

Natasha didn’t know what to make of it. One minute you would be paying attention, the next you’d drift off and sleep anywhere you were. Literally anywhere.

It couldn’t be a medical issue; you’d never be cleared to work as an Avenger if you were at risk of just dozing off in the middle of a mission.

The first time, it happened during planning. It was tedious, the only light in the room coming from a projector -there was a whole discussion between Tony and Cap about using one- and it was damn early. Without caring, you place your arms on the table and sleep through most of the session. Every eye is on you when the lights turn back on. “Y/N?” Steve says, his voice stern. He rarely got openly annoyed at anyone that wasn’t Stark. “Yeah, Cap?” you say, yawning and stretching your arms above your head. “Did you even hear anything we said?” To everyone’s shock, you repeat everything that happened in the room, word for word. “Well, don’t make a habit of napping during mission planning” Steve warns either way and you mock salute him. Your eyes meet Natasha’s, a smirk on her face. Blushing, you wink and then turn back to listen to the last part of the presentation. It wasn’t until later that you realised a post it was stuck to your forehead. Probably why Natasha was smiling all along. Well, shit. — Your first mission went spectacular, playing your part perfectly. Only after that, Steve went easier on you. To celebrate, the team wanted to play laser tag. Which was fine, you could handle that. The winner would pick the pizza toppings AND the movie. “Are we playing teams?” you ask, checking your vest. “Nu-uh. I’m taking all of you down” Natasha threatens and you chuckle. “We’ll see about that, Red” She nudges you with her elbow before walking away. Sam wiggles his eyebrows at you and you roll your eyes. “Do not even start” you warn him. “I’ve got my eye on you, naughty girl” he says with a grin and you chuckle. Still, he’s the first one you take down. You’re in the perfect hiding spot, high enough that people don’t even notice you’re aiming from your fortress. As soon as Sam realises he’s out of the game, he turns to Bucky, who’s hiding around. “Man, I thought we had a deal!” Sam shouts and then shoots at Bucky. “Payback!” “You can’t kill me, you’re already out! And I didn’t even shoot you!” “Lies!” he insists, shooting at Bucky again. A second later, there’s a click and Bucky’s vest turns off too. “Better not argue so loudly next time” Clint warns. His presence makes you nervous, so you’re on guard for the next couple of minutes, though there’s nothing but silence. The action seems to be going on across the arena. Well, there’s no reason why you shouldn’t rest for a little while, right? You put one of your hands behind your head, and close your eyes. Victory will be yours soon. Natasha finds you after she’s eliminated everyone else. She keeps track of all her “victims”, surprised you weren’t in the middle of the battle. Your aim was impeccable, almost rivaling Clint’s. Of course you’d be asleep while she does all the hard work. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I really want pepperoni pizza” she mumbles and in that exact moment you break out laughing. “That was the most un-assassin thing you could have said, Natasha” you hold your sides. “Well, I thought you were asleep! That’s not fair” “I was” you say. “And also… kawabunga” without warning, you pull out your laser gun and shoot her. She gapes at you, her mouth hanging open. “You distracted me! I took down everyone else!” “Not everyone, I shot Sam and in a way Bucky” you point out, the lights finally back on. “They don’t even count” Natasha chases you, practically throwing a tantrum. “And kawabunga? That’s worse than what I said” “Who’s the winner?” Tony says, looking between the two of you. “Rookie?” he guesses when you smile. “Folks, we are watching Crazy, Stupid Love tonight” you announce triumphantly and everyone groans. “What about the pizza topping?” Tony asks, dialing the number for the parlor that delivers 24/7. “Pepperoni” you decide, even though bacon and beef is your favorite. Natasha’s expression softens at that. Everyone gathers around, arguing over their strategies and eating to their heart’s content. Natasha picks the spot next to you. “How’s the pizza?” you ask with a cheeky grin. “Shut up” is all she says as she takes another bite. The movie starts and you’re almost hyper. You nudge Natasha as you look between her and the screen, eager to know if she’ll like the film. You take it as a win when she smiles a couple of times. Except after the first thirty minutes, you’re completely out of it. “Tony” Sam says, leaning his head towards you. The man looks at you and sighs. “Oh, thank God” he says, changing the movie for Die Hard. No one dares to comment on how Natasha stays still, your head resting on her shoulder. — Fucking five in the fucking morning. That’s how early Captain Ass is knocking on your door. “If you wake up early, you’ll go to bed early” Grandpa says, still concerned over your sleeping habits. One of his powers must be being super annoying. Especially when he has you doing reps over and over. Or changing the settings on the treadmill to make you go faster, until your legs burn. You’ll kill him. When you take a minute to rest, you also press a button on your smart watch. “Captain Rogers, Agent Hill is requesting your presence in the briefing room” F.R.I.D.A.Y. says. He looks at you and then nods. “Take a break. I’ll be right back” “F.R.I.D.A.Y., lock all the gym doors” you say the second he’s gone. Once the AI confirms it’s done, you sigh and rest against one of the leg curl machines. It takes a couple of minutes for Steve to realise Maria never actually called him to the briefing room. By the time he gets back to the gym, all the doors are locked. “F.R.I.D.A.Y., I need access” he requests, but is met with silence. “All you have to do is pull the door, Gramps” Natasha mocks, behind him. She’s the only other person that wakes up this early to train. She lifts an eyebrow when she can’t open the door either. “Huh”, she comments, almost sounding bored as she pulls out her phone. “Y/N is supposed to be there training” “Looks to me like she’s sleeping” Natasha offers her phone to him, where she’s checking all the security cameras. Sure enough, you’re sound asleep. “I’m gonna get Tony” he grumbles. Natasha waits until he’s gone to ask F.R.I.D.A.Y. for access and she grants it immediately. “Hey, Sleeping Beauty” “Aww, you think I’m beautiful” you sigh, opening one eye and squinting at her. “Cap went to get Tony because he couldn’t get in” “That’s what he gets for waking me up at five am” “What about me?” “Programmed F.R.I.D.A.Y. to let you in” you yawn, adjusting your position to rest on your side and go back to sleep. “I know you like to train early” She smiles and then goes to warm up. 20 minutes later, a very disgruntled Tony walks in with Steve hot on his trail. “You” he points a finger at you. “This is highly advanced code” he shows the screen of his tablet. “Yes” you say, rubbing your eyes. “You did this to prevent him from getting into the gym” “Once again, yes” Tony rolls his eyes and shoves the tablet on Steve’s chest. “Do me a favor, Cap. Let her sleep. Then I can sleep too. We’ll review that code later. I might have a job for you” he says as he leaves the gym. “You really don’t like waking up early, huh?” “Nope, Cap. Never have, never will. Not even for America’s ass” Natasha snorts as she punches the bag in front of her. “Fine” he resigns, expecting you to leave to your room. “Too far. Too sleepy” you mumble and then go back to dreaming about sparring with Natasha until she’s topping you. — Natasha looks at the clock. It had been almost two hours since you went to the garage, telling her you’d take a look at her car. Your father was a mechanic and with all you knew about machines, it would probably take you thirty minutes to fix the issue. So you said. She sighs and decides it’s better to go and find you. It didn’t take long for her to spot you, half of your body on a dolly under her car. She doesn’t see your hands, so Natasha assumes you are still working. “Everything ok?” she asks. “Son of a bitch” you jolt awake, but you have little space to move and end up crashing your head against her car. “Ouch, that hurt” “I’m so sorry, I thought you were awake” she says, pulling the dolly from under the car until your face pops up. “Yeah, no. I was already done, just checking some wires and then I guess I dozed off” you explain, sitting up and placing a hand over your forehead. “Let me check” she asks, running her hand softly over the bump that is already forming. “Ouch” you say again, but you’re lost in the way her hand feels against yours. You’re so close and she looks so perfect, which is honestly nothing new. “We should get you some ice” she comments, still close and all you can see are her lips moving. “I need you to answer me or I’ll assume you have a concussion” “I’m fine” you roll your eyes and begin to stand up. Natasha is stubborn, her hand taking yours so she can keep you close as you walk to the kitchen. When she finally gets the ice, she forces you to sit on the couch and places it on your forehead. “Can I ask you something?” she says softly. You’re aware that she’s pressed against you. “Mhm” you encourage, enjoying her warmth. “Why are you always sleepy?” “Not always” “You slept standing up in the subway the other day. Last week, you missed your stop at the train and you got down two stops later” “Ok, ok, jeez” you chuckle. “Being sleepy makes me angry sometimes so it’s perfect for missions, don’t you think?” “Maybe” the redhead concedes, but you know she wants more. “I guess I never slept a lot at night. Since I was a teenager probably. Everything at home was chaos and I could only have peace and quiet when everyone was asleep. And then, back in the army… I don’t know, I began to dislike the quiet. It feel threatening, that we were in the middle of nowhere, everything was dark and we could be ambushed at any moment. I always slept until late trying to keep an eye on the team” you clear your throat and Natasha begins to play softly with your hair, a silent signal that she’s there. “That little habit payed off one time and we stopped an attack. But I guess it became a habit for me. Now, I like to go up the roof and look at the stars or just stay around and keep an eye on the Compound. And once dawn is coming and Steve will begin his lunatic training regime, I know someone else has eyes on the team and I can get some sleep” “You know there is a flawless security system and a team of skilled individuals here, right?” Natasha places her hand on yours, running her thumb across the back of yours. “Old habits die hard, I guess” you finally look at her. “Ask Bucky-I-sleep-on-the-floor-Barnes” “I’d like to go watch the stars with you sometime” she mutters. “Would that be alright?” “More than alright. Perfect, actually” your eyes meet and she might be leaning forward when Sam, of all people, walks in. “Damn, girl! You growing a second head” he comments about your bump. “Shut the fuck up, Sam” you answer right away and he snorts. “Hope your other head is nicer to me” “Ugh” you groan, deciding it’s best to ignore him. But Natasha stays by your side, still running her hands through your hair until you’re drifting off for a quick little nap. — There’s enough tension to keep you up. Maria walked in, without even preparing you for the news. Three potential nuclear attacks in a week. “We have to leave right now” Steve insists. “They already have the codes. If they get so much of a whiff of us, they’ll blow everything up” Natasha argues. “So, we’re supposed to do nothing?” Tony protests. “Yes” Maria says and then looks at you. “When do I leave?” It’s almost as if you told them all to eat shit. They begin screaming and protesting, but you ignore them and reach out for the report Maria holds in her hand. “You’ve got twenty minutes” you nod and are about to walk out when she speaks again. “If your cover is blown we can’t extract you. You’ll be on your own” “Ok” “I can’t believe Sleepy is being sent for such a big mission” “Don’t be an ass, Stark” Natasha growls at him. “She’s the only one that can keep a low profile. This isn’t up for discussion. Y/N accepted the mission” Maria reminds them all. “Hey” you look at Tony, not taking what he says at heart. “I promise you I’ll do my best. I’ll stop it” “I know. I’m sorry” You place your hand on his shoulder and look around the room. “Be good to each other while I’m gone” you ask and Sam looks like he’s about to cry. “Don’t go soft on me, Wilson” “You better come back” he warns you and you nod. “See ya” you say before leaving the room to pack everything you might need. Natasha is waiting outside of your room when you open the door. “Hey” she whispers, pushing you inside. “Nat, what are you…?” before you can say another word, her lips are on yours. It feels urgent and desperate. You moan against her mouth and she pulls you closer by your jacket. “Please be careful” she pleads, her eyes closed as she tries to even her breathing. “Nat” you say and she finally looks at you. “I’ll be ok” “Promise me” she asks and her voice almost breaks. “I swear” you say, kissing her softly. “Will there be more of these in my future if I come back in one piece?” “Guess you’ll have to find out” the redhead tries to joke. You kiss her hand and let it down gently at her side. It takes every ounce of your will to keep walking. All you want to do is go back to her. — You got the intel, but your cover was blown. As soon as you were sure the team got the information, you tried to hide your tracks and disappear. It wasn’t easy to move fast and discreetly with broken ribs and bruises all over your face. The team got the information, but no word on you. There was enough to discover two moles at S.H.I.E.L.D. that had been secretly working for a terrorist network. Natasha was relentless in her interrogation. But still, no sign from you. It could mean you were safe. Bad news traveled fast, so if something had happened to you, they’d surely know about it. Right? Natasha didn’t find any comfort in that logic, looking everywhere for even a hint of your moves. “There was a shooting in London” Clint informs her one morning. They go over all the security footage. “It has to be her. She’s alive” Clint tries to comfort his best friend. “They found her” Natasha snaps. “They’re right on her tracks and if they get to her…” “She’s in a safe house. They think she’s still in London but she made it to the countryside” Maria interrupts them. “She’ll be there for a couple of hours. Then, maybe we can bring her home” “I’m coordinating an extraction” Natasha says, rushing to the door. “We don’t know where she’ll show up next” Natasha looks at Clint for back up, but he agrees with Maria. “She’ll come around” the brunette says when Natasha storms off. “You better be right” Clint sighs. “I’ve never seen her like this” A couple of hours later, when they hear the safe house got blown up, he feels like throwing up. Natasha doesn’t even look at him, at any of them, as she walks out of the briefing room. She doesn’t leave your room for two days, waiting for any sign that you’re still alive. “Agent Romanoff, your presence is requested in the medbay” F.R.I.D.A.Y. interrupts the silence one night. “Agent Y/L/N is back” “What?” she mutters, almost thinking she’s hallucinating. “Come on” Sam says, walking out of his room and meeting her in the hall. Maria is closing the door to your room in the medbay when the team shows up. “Well?” Steve is the first one to speak. “Broken ribs, cuts and bruises, a gunshot to the left shoulder” she gives them a summary. “She got some injuries on her back from the shrapnel” “Can we…?” Bucky asks and Maria shakes her head no. “She’s pretty shaken up. At the shelter… the explosion destroyed a couple of houses in the surrounding area. She was already out but the families didn’t survive” Everyone falls silent. “She’ll need time” Maria says. That’s not comforting for any of them. — You leave the medbay against medical advice on your third day, in the middle of the night. You don’t want to run into anyone and have to speak to them. Someone was in your room while you were gone. You can instantly tell, but you’re too tired to wonder if you should be upset at all. There was hope that maybe you missed your bed and that’s why it was so hard to sleep. But you’re here now, looking at the ceiling and you can’t just shut down your brain, even if you feel exhausted. The first few days you avoid everyone, only leaving your room at night to get some food. Sleeping pills are most definitely not a solution, especially when you wake up from a nightmare that reminds you ten people would be alive if you’d let those men kill you in London. Natasha is losing it. She doesn’t know how to make it better when you won’t even leave your room. “Looks like our ghost is back” Tony comments, pointing at the half empty box of Pop Tarts. Later that night, when everyone’s gone to bed, she decides to go out and watch the stars, if only to feel closer to you. Natasha instantly recognizes your shape, sitting on the grass and looking up. The moonlight glistens against the silent tears that roll down your cheeks. When you hear her approaching, you make an attempt to wipe your face, ashamed and tired of feeling like nothing will be ok again. “Don’t shut me out” she pleads, kneeling next to you, her hands on each side of your face. “I- I can’t stop thinking about them” your voice trembles, more tears clouding your vision and she lets you rest your head against her chest. “I’m right here” she promises, her fingers running through your hair. “I’m right here” That’s the first time you get some sleep in a week. No one dares to comment when they see you out on broad daylight the next morning. There are some curious glances as you walk towards the woods at the edge of the Compound. You climb one of the trees and rest on a branch that you’ve used more than once to take a nap. It doesn’t work, but the squirrels jumping around help to take your mind off of everything. A branch snaps on the ground and you’re ready to fight an intruder, but you only spot Natasha, throwing a couple of blankets on the floor. There’s also a box with your favorite doughnuts. “So good” Natasha comments out loud. “Fine. Only because I’m hungry” you announce, climbing down. “What were you even doing there?” “I’m going back to places where I used to sleep and see if I can find some inner peace” “That’s one way of dealing with it” “Got any better ideas?” “Have you thought about going to talk to Doctor Jones?” Natasha says, pretending to be casual about it. She’s clearly nervous, avoiding your eyes. “Do you really think I’d be so relunctant to go to therapy?” you smile for the first time in a very long time. You’ve never seen Natasha so nervous. “Well, none of us really follow that advice. But I want you to be ok” “I’m tired of feeling like crap. So yeah, I think I’m ready for that” “Good” Natasha nods. You place a strand of hair behind her ear and then take her hand, your lips touching the back of it softly. “Thank you” you whisper, placing her hand above your heart. And you’re not sure if it’s the best idea to give yourself to someone else when you’re so broken, but when Natasha’s lips are on yours, you feel like all the pieces are coming together, healing you bit by bit. — The nightmares eventually stop. But Natasha stays with you every night, happy that she can feel you pressed against her back. She’ll never forget how awful it was to think you were gone forever. One night, when you’re losing sleep for the best reason, worshipping every inch of her body and meeting emerald eyes that look at you with so much adoration, you understand that sometimes, reality is better than dreams. Taglist/

@gimaximoff, @nataliaromanova-widow

[fandomwriterstuff]

“We’re a well-oiled team of military-grade kindergarteners,” his best friend, and the only other human on the ship who would understand what kindergarten was, continued chastising him and his companions. “The level of education and training among the three of you eclipses that of the entire rest of the members of this operation,” Annabeth continued, pointing her finger individually at himself, his pilot Jason, and his Chief Science Officer Nico. “You know, I’m not that surprised with you, Percy, but you are our XO so you should really be more responsible,” he winced at that, still feeling a bit of imposter syndrome at being the Commander of the USS Olympus. “Jason, shouldn’t you be piloting a ship or something?” At that, he saluted her and did an about face before scampering off to get into more trouble. “And you, you’re definitely way too responsible to have gotten mixed up with this Seaweed Brain and Sparky, so what’s in this tomfoolery for you?”

Nico, the only Neptunian on the ship, shifted his large black wings self consciously under the scrutiny of their Chief of Operations. Percy, as the Commander of the vessel, felt obligated to protect his usually stoic and well-behaved… acquaintance? Di Angelo was reserved, almost standoffish, and resented anyone who tried to stick up for him for some reason, but that didn’t stop Percy’s stupid seaweed brain from doing so. Hence the acquaintance. Percy was 99% sure Di Angelo didn’t consider him a friend. But he was nice to Percy and a great officer, so Percy considered him his friend.

“It was my fault, Annie,” he used her childhood nickname carefully, not knowing whether it would soften her up or piss her off more. He was hoping for softening. “It was just another one of Jason and my dumb ideas that we thought we would need a scientist to help with, and we didn’t want to piss off Leo by involving him in it. You know how he is about his engineer and warp cores and whatnot,” Percy held his hands up placatingly. “Leave Di Angelo out of this, he has sciencey things to do, isn’t that right?” Percy side-eyed his companion who (not surprisingly) rolled his eyes.

“I try not to get involved with human pranks or even Jovian mischief, but Officer Grace and First Officer Jackson were about to be meddling with my linguistics team. It isn’t my duty to tell my superiors what to do, so I sought out the next best option, supervising and ensuring no lasting damage was done to the physical or emotional state of the linguistics team. Now,” Here Percy held in a smirk as Di Angelo shrugged. “If they caused interference with the machinery of the ship, that wouldn’t be my expertise, so I allowed it to happen and-” Percy held back a laugh as the other male started speaking even faster to get everything out as Annabeth turned redder and redder. “I’m very sorry about that, truly, but I had no control over the situation.”

“No control over the situation? You three broke our LIT machine and now we have to go back to Earth as soon as we pass close enough to fix it. Soon enough nobody on this ship will understand each other,” the woman across from them crossed her arms and Percy shrunk back a bit.

“I want to make a joke about a machine being called “LIT,” but I feel like it isn’t the right time,” he muttered. “I know the Linguistic Inhibition Technology is important, but most of us have a working understanding of at least one other language, so it shouldn’t be a huge issue, right?”

“You know it works by connecting to the implant technology in our brains, so as it shuts down one by one, members of this ship from spaces stations and planets far and wide will have no clue why they suddenly can’t understand their XO, or their Chief Officer, or their best friend. So you better explain this. And you have to tell them that we’re going straight back to Earth to fix it because no nearby planets have the same brain implant tech as us. Damn Terrans and their brand name technology copyrights,” Annabeth grumbled and finally turned around to walk off.

“Hey, you’re Terran, too!” Percy shouted after her, but she just flipped him the bird.

“She can do that?” Di Angelo asked, side-eyeing Percy.

“Yeah, she’s been my best friend since we were twelve. As long as she doesn’t undermine my authority in front of everyone else, I don’t really care. I’ve done way worse to her,” Percy laughed at the other man’s frown. “Nothing bad, just pranks and things of that sort. Maybe when we get back to Earth we can show you where we’re from. You never set foot off of the training grounds while you were in school.”

“I would… like that,” Di Angelo paused and gave Percy a soft smile.

“Great,” Percy patted the younger male on the shoulder and made his way to the Command Center.

Percy sat himself down in the rotating chair and pressed on the comms device.

“Gooooood evening crew of the USS Olympus, this is your Commanding Officer, Percy Jackson, speaking,” he smiled at the engineering crew that was scuttling by, only for one of them to pause and look at him like he was speaking a different language… Whoops.

“There was a malfunction with the Linguistic Inhibition Technology and we will be returning to Earth henceforth to repair it before the damage becomes problematic. You may experience glitches with your implant technology and may revert to only understanding your first language and those you have studied extensively. If somebody looks like they’re not understanding what I’m saying right now, please escort them to the linguistics team in Science Bay 3. Carry on. Jackson, out.” He clicked again and the mic turned off.

He sighed, this would be one of his bigger mistakes. They were supposed to be exploring, but they couldn’t do that if nobody could speak to one another. One trip home couldn’t hurt him, and he was sure Annabeth would be happy to see her father.

It wasn’t until later after the Chief Officer meeting when someone finally asked Percy about Earth. For many of the non-humans on the ship, Earth was a place to get education and training to go out in the star fleet, and they never set foot outside the campus grounds, just like Di Angelo. But people had stopped asking him questions because Earth was basically “Space Australia,” as Annabeth had explained to him. The adaptability of humans and their need to pack bond astounded many and horrified many others. So, he stopped talking about home.

It was a new member of their ship, Novax (a Vulcan who was a part of Leo’s engineering team), who asked him about it first.

“I hear Earth is 75% made of pure salt water, and is filled with animals of all kinds. Do you have a favorite water animal?” he asked Percy excitedly.

“Definitely dolphins, though they aren’t underwater creatures. Like humans they need oxygen to breathe, and come up for air very often. My favorite actual underwater species would have to be a hippocampus from Neptune. I’ve always wanted to go and see one, but my human anatomy prevents me from going on-planet,” Percy explained and sipped on his hot tea.

“There are a million creatures in the ocean and you pick one that doesn’t breathe underwater?” Clarisse grunted. His Chief Tactical Officer was a brutish Martian, but very specialized in weapons. “And your second favorite isn’t even Terran.”

“What else do you know about the ‘ocean’?” Novax breathed, leaning forward.

“Eh, not much,” Percy shrugged.

“I’m not sure I heard that correctly, maybe my LIT unit isn’t functioning well,” another member of engineering asked, Nyssa. “Your planet is 75% water and you don’t even know what is inside it?”

“I could tell you about the people who spend their life learning about what survives in the deep depths,” Percy looked up, knowing he had all of the non-Terrans hooked on every word. Even Di Angelo had paused in his note taking and was staring wide-eyed at Percy. “But I don’t know if you’d want to know.”

“No we do!” Nyssa exclaimed. “There are people who dedicate their lives to a place that’s literally not navigable by humans, the main inhabitants of the planet?”

“Well as you said, most of the planet is water. Which means that coastal communities are filled with fisherman, whalers, swimmers, and more. I could tell you about some of those. I could also tell you about the scientists that spend years of their lives building bots that can’t even come close to withstanding the pressure at the deepest depths without imploding, or I could tell you about those that do come close,” he shrugged.

“What happened to those?”

“The video feed cut out after only seeing multiple rows of sharp, jagged teeth,” Annabeth answered, her sharp grin frightening those who hadn’t noticed her. Some forgot that she was Terran, because she was also half Minervan.

“I could tell you about whales. Beautiful, they come in black and white or grey or blue. But they can be as big as almost 100 feet long. That’s as long as most pirate ships. And they could fit about 400 average sized humans in their mouths. You don’t want to cross one of them. And they only live on the surface. The things that live in the deep,” Percy shuddered for effect. There were no Neptunians on the ship, so there were no natural water dwellers there, so all of his rapt listeners were shocked by this information. “There’s the anglerfish. They light up the dark with an antenna on top of their heads, and the light lures in prey. But it’s so dim elsewhere that you don’t see their big sharp teeth until you’re right up against them,” he murmured. “Giant squids are almost as big as whales but not nearly as peaceful and beautiful. They have eight arms and two tentacles that could wrap around any boat and crush it.”

“Ten limbs?” Nyssa whispered, clearly disturbed.

“Plus, the Portuguese Man o’ War,” Percy shrugged nonchalantly. “Also known as the floating terror. It’s like a big blue jellyfish that sits innocently on top of the water with huge blue tentacles that sit just underneath with a sting strong enough to kill a full grown human.”

“Don’t worry,” Annabeth grinned that shark grin again. “Percy won’t tell you about the stories of the old days. He doesn’t want to scare you.”

“That was the not scary part?” Novax gulped.

“Anyway, I just got notified that we’ll be back on Earth in a few days, so brace yourselves,” and with that, she stood and left them all staring after her. When the door clicked shut, Percy had all eyes back on him. He shrugged.

“Don’t look at me. I wasn’t going to tell you about the kr- nevermind,” he stood. “Di Angelo, with me,” the younger officer stood, back to business and was at Percy’s side again in a moment. “Clear your schedule, you’re spending shore leave with me, pal.”

“Great,” came the deadpan reply.

“Don’t sound so somber,” Percy rolled his eyes. “I’m just going to show you the beach and maybe a good gay bar. You need to let off some steam my dude.”

The other male reddened.

“That is so… That is…” he huffed. “Highly inappropriate.” he glared down at the ground and Percy felt a little bad, maybe the guy wasn’t out? But it was clear he had a preference for males. Oh well, that foot was already in Percy’s mouth.

“Fine. But I will be attending and I am a great dancer so you’re missing out,” he winked at the flustered officer and made his way back to his cabin. It would be an interesting few days.

He made a plan with Annabeth. Day one before shore leave, Percy would spread a rumor to Novax about the kraken. Bigger than a giant squid and meaner. Known to crush entire pirate ships in the olden days.

Day two, Annabeth would mention sirens to Nyssa. Hideous creatures that could lure you in with their voices and lead you to believe you were bringing your ship in to everything you ever wanted, when in reality you would crash your ships and then drown.

Day three, Percy would tell Leo about the Megalodon. A definitely very real shark so big you couldn’t even imagine it. Percy shuddered at that one.

“But, there are some good things,” Percy was speaking to Nico Di Angelo from his Commander chair, in ear shot of some of the participants of the conversation a few nights prior. “Mermaids, the siren’s nicer cousin species. And the lost city of Atlantis. Known to be a great and bountiful city, lost to the sea and cursed by the gods to be stuck down there forever. Some believe it still exists, but it’s within the Bermuda Triangle.”

“What, pray tell, is the Bermuda Triangle,” Clarisse sighed.

“Hard to explain. Ships just… go in… and they never come out,” Annabeth shrugged. “Planes go down. Ships wreck. People who go in don’t come back out, so we don’t know if Atlantis is really there or not.”

“That’s… terrifying,” Novax whispered as he walked by.

Percy was sure he had created a healthy fear of Earth’s oceans in his crew. And he meant to, because while he loved the beach and swimming, he did want to make them shy away from the depths. They wouldn’t do well to explore it.

[j-wont-stop]

The Scarred (Chapter Five)

Title - The Scarred (Chapter Five)

Word Count - 2156

Fandom - Batman: The Dark Knight

Pairing - Ledger!Joker x OC

Summary - Penelope Bishop works at a florist shop in Gotham, barely getting by in the corrupted city. Her life is shrouded by therapy and judgement with little light to find her way with. However, when a certain painted face starts making himself known to her, things take a turn.

Warning(s) - Panic attack, murder, cussing

Inspiration - Cold (Aqualung & Lucy Schwartz)

Masterlist

The vase fell from her hands, the shattering glass echoing through the hall. Penelope’s mind grew petrified as she stared at the card sitting in the mess of glass, water and flowers. She fell back against her door frame, her breathing sharp and fast as she began to hyperventilate. She gripped onto the front of her bra to pull it away from her chest, looking for any kind of relief, any way to find space for her to breathe properly. Yet it did nothing. She knew she was making a scene, and she wanted so badly to hide away in her apartment. But what about the mess? She asked herself amid the chaos. Her heart pounded in her ears, drowning out the ambience around her.

“’Scuse me-?” Penelope shot straight up, eye frantically darting towards the new voice. A tall, slim man stood before her, hands held out in front of him as an offering of peace. “Apologies, I didn’ mean to alarm ye. Are ye alrigh’?” His bright eyes held a gentleness in them, the same as his voice. It was soothing in a way she had never before experienced. It was hardly able to calm her, however, in her panicked state. “Righ’, dumb question…” He mumbled to himself, glancing between Penelope and her welcome mat. “I’ll clean this up righ’ quick fer ye, tha’ alrigh’?” She gave the smallest nod, letting go of her bra to wipe the tears from her face as he disappeared.

She closed her eye, grounding in an attempt to compose herself. Never had she broken down in front of a stranger. And never had she felt more humiliated by it. Her eye snapped back open when she heard the sound of a plastic bag, eyeing the man warily as he walked back to start picking up the glass shards. He noticed how her breathing had only slightly improved, but it was progress.

“Why are you helping me?” The sound of her voice caught him off guard as he continued picking up the pieces.

“Juss doin’ my duty.”

“In Gotham?” The man sighed and looked up at her from where he was crouched on the floor.

“‘Ard as it is to believe, miss, not erryone in this city is a crook.” It wasn’t until then that she noticed his thick accent. It was a surprise to her, however one she greatly accepted. She felt childish for it, but she was excited as it was her first time meeting someone with one. “Ye wann’ keep this?” He asked, holding the Joker card between his index and middle fingers. She hesitated before reaching to grab it. “Now, I’m not all tha’ superstitious,” He stood up with a huff. “But if tha’ is a genuine Joker card, I’d watch out if I were ye. Yer either really lucky, er ‘bout to be really dead.” He noticed the growing fright in her eyes. “Or! Some guy is juss actin’ the maggot and playin’ wit’ ye.”

“People were scared enough to impersonate Batman, I don’t think they’d dare to impersonate The Joker himself.”

“Then pray yer juss really lucky.” He spoke in a softer tone. He began to tie the bag as she continued to carefully watch him. “I don’t believe I’ve caught yer name yet?”

“Penelope.” She paused, taking a deep breath. “Bishop.”

“Penelope?” The name left his lips in curiosity. “Tha’s a new one.” Her eye shifted to the ground. “Bu’ it’s refreshin’.” The man offered her a friendly smile, but her expression remained constant. “Liam Garson. Juss moved in couple a doors down.” He pointed off to his left.

“Why?” He threw her a confused look. “I mean, why Gotham?”

“Oh!” Liam chuckled. “Well, why not? Barely any restrictions with the mob and cops runnin’ ‘round lie’ chickens wit’ their ’eds cut off. Sure, muggers an’ the lie’ crawl abou’, but tha’s the price ye pay fer freedom, righ’?” He contained himself from beaming when she gave the ghost of a smile.

“Well, I see where your morals lie, Mr. Garson.”

“Liam.” He jested. “An’ I may lack some, but I’m better off than over ‘alf the boyos ‘ere.”

“’Boyos’?” Penelope gave a small chuckle.

“Males, juveniles, youngins.” She nodded in understanding. “Well, I’ll let ye be. Juss wanted to check on ye and make sure ye were alrigh’.” He started to back away. “If ye need anythin’, I’m in 329.” With a final salute, he disappeared into his own apartment. Penelope slowly turned around to head into her own, closing her door softly.

She looked down at the card caught in her nimble fingers. She couldn’t help the jolt that rushed through her body when she realized that if it was his card, he knew where she was. He knew who she was. She was somebody to him and she wasn’t sure whether to be flattered or terrified. It made her start to question her own morals. Any other person wouldn’t even think to be flattered, so why would she?

He was a murderer, a psychopath who wanted nothing more than to watch the city burn. And yet she had half a mind to consider being flattered. Really lucky or really dead. Why would she be dead? Had she angered someone without her knowing?

She froze.

“The boss.” She whispered to herself in realization. The bald man worked for The Joker. Which meant he knew where she worked. How much else did he know? Who all knew? How many people were following her? Question after question ran through her head and it was almost unbearable. She didn’t know what she even did to be on his radar in the first place.

“-patrolling the streets trying to trace his whereabouts for the time being, but so far-“ The news anchor’s voice hummed softly from her TV and she practically ran over to it, snatching the remote from the coffee table to turn up the volume.

“Well, John, I think it’s safe to say that The Joker’s escape is truly devastating for the people of Gotham. Not only in the sense that he has escaped, but it gives the chance for other criminals to wreak havoc on the city knowing that Batman will once again be busy with him.” The woman on the other line spoke. Penelope scoffed at her words.

“Way to give them ideas.” She mumbled to herself with a wide eye.

“Let’s just hope that Batman is able to do what he does best, and fast. Cause-“ Penelope switched the TV off, having heard enough of it. It upset her that the city was putting their faith in a masked man, that none of them had the nerve to do something themselves. That they couldn’t even rely on their own first responders. That she couldn’t rely on first responders.

She began to peel off her bandages, dragging her feet towards her bathroom. So much had happened in only a week and it all started to catch up to her, her head starting to pound from it all. The note. The glass. The bald man offering her a large sum of money for just a vase of flowers, finding out he worked for The Joker, finding out The Joker had been tracking her for who knows how long.

Penelope reached into her medicine cabinet for pain killers, deciding on taking two with a glass of water. Finally she laid down on her bed, snuggling up to her great fuzzy blanket with her eyes closed in an attempt to fall asleep. She briefly thought about telling Emma, but if she truly was dealing with The Joker, she wanted her involved as little as possible. For her safety. She thought to herself in reassurance before sleep took over.

———————————————————————

The sounds of rushing water and seagulls filled the air around her, the occasional pair of footsteps passing by that she grew wary of from time to time. The sun began to disappear in the horizon, painting the sky with breathtaking shades of pink and orange on the rare cloudless evening. Music played softly from her phone that sat on one side of her, her dinner left half eaten on the other. Her short legs dangled lightly over the ledge as she watched from the pier. It was almost tradition on warmer nights, seeing it as a rarity. It would’ve been perfect if it wasn’t for the littered concrete and occasional plastic bag that floated by as a reminder of where she was. Along with the gun that clicked from behind her.

“I’d say just jump and save me the work, but then I wouldn’t get your money.” A gruff voice spoke. She didn’t dare move. Didn’t dare turn her head or flinch a finger. Her heart rate picked up, stomach churning. “Well?” The man urged, losing patience.

“I-I don’t have any.”

“How’d you get that nice dinner, then, huh?”

“Been saving up for it.” A lie. The man just chuckled.

“Alright. How about you get off of there, put your hands up, and then face me. Slow.”

“I-I can’t.”

“You can’t?”

“I can’t raise my hands.” She told him as she awkwardly turned around on the ledge.

“Alright, enough talking-“ The man halted, red quickly seeping through his jacket. Blood dribbled down his chin. She watched in horror as he collapsed.

“I agree.” Penelope looked up to see the man who had helped her the day before. He walked around the mugger towards her, bloodied switchblade in hand. When he saw her flinch he slowed his pace, tucking away the weapon to make her more comfortable.

“Y-you just-“ She spoke frantically, pointing towards the now dead body with a shaky hand.

“Killed a man?” She nodded quickly. He tilted his head dismissively. “Aye. The bastard ‘ad it comin’.” She shied away from him as he took a seat next to her, arms folded. “Relax, miss. I juss saved yer life, did I not?” He looked over at her to see her chewing on her cheek.

“Why?”

“‘Why’ what? Why did I do it-?”

“Yes.” He hesitated for a moment.

“Why not?” The man shrugged. “Was either he killed you or I killed ‘im, an’ I wouldn’t dare let such a beautiful woman go to waste lie’ tha’.” Penelope scrunched her nose and scoffed.

“Beautiful woman…” She mumbled to herself. “If you think I’m easily won over by flattery, you’re wrong.”

“With all due respect, miss, I wasn’t talkin’ ‘bout fer meself.” The brunette noticed her eye take on a more gentle stare. He sighed, scratching at his beard.

“Why’re you here?” She asked, rubbing her left arm.

“I could ask ye the same question.” Penelope looked at him quizzically.

“Dinner.” Liam nodded.

“Was on a walk. ‘Eard the ruckus. Came to see what was ‘appenin’.”

“That’s quite a coincidence.”

“Aye. It sure is. A damn good one, if I do say so meself.” Silence fell between the two of them, however it was peaceful. Penelope quite enjoyed it. “If ye don’t mind me askin’,” Liam broke in. “What do ye plan on doin’ wit’ this Joker business? Assumin’ it’s not too late already. I mean, ‘ave ye told anybody?” She shook her head, focusing on her breathing.

“I haven’t.” Penelope swallowed as Liam raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Ye ‘aven’t? Well, why not? Not even the cops?”

“What’ll they do?” She finally looked up at him. “What will they do? You’re the one that was saying yesterday that they’re all running around like chickens with their heads cut off.“ She began to rant, everything starting to catch up to her. Her eye began to glisten as it watered over. “And if they can’t help me, who can? Certainly not Batman!“ She spit the masked man’s name with venom. “They couldn’t even keep him behind bars to keep the city safe! Why the hell would they care to keep The Joker from coming for just a single person, a nobody, from coming for me-!”

“Miss!” Liam held onto her shoulders, keeping her steady. In a moment of desperation, she clung to him, and once again she caught him off guard as she started to break down for the second time. He began to gently stroke her back and sighed. “Ye’ve been dealing wit’ this a while now, ‘aven’t ye?” He spoke just above a whisper and he felt a shift in her head, a confirmation. A van sat in the distance, tinted windows making it impossible to see through. It was cracked enough for him to see who was in it and he made eye contact with a pair of almost pure black eyes, giving them a faint nod.

[blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk]

Hey hello, I have no idea who Eric and Alan are (from the musical I guess) and I know nothing about your oc, so could you please write something for them? I'm curious.

yes, Eric and Alan are from the second (second?? I think second) Kuroshitsuji musical, The Most Beautiful DEATH in the World! the musicals are honestly really good, I 1000% recommend them if you can find them on YouTube or something!

Eric and Alan are such good characters, I have the biggest crushes on both of ‘em, and I LOVE the idea of a poly ship with them, so I did a little thing with that concept here~

also I have a TON of OCs so I’m not sure which one you wanted to know more about? “them” makes me think you’re referring to my genderfluid Phantomhive servant Marlowe, but I’m not sure ;w; however I love to write about my OCs so when the askbox opens back up, if you’re still curious, please do let me know!!

for now, here’s some Eric x reader x Alan goodness! featuring a SMALL cameo by my newest OC Elysia Malla, the department head of the British Branch Reapers’ Medical Division :D

Just like most times you want to hang out at the Reaper Dispatch building, ERIC has to sneak you in.

And not so much sneak you in, as put a pair of glasses on you, tell you not to look anyone in the eye, pretend you’re “that new transfer from Sussex”, and under absolutely no circumstances let anyone tell his boss that you’re visiting. It’s a poor effort because like most supernatural creatures, Grim Reapers can sense humans. You’re pretty sure the whole office knows what’s up by now.

Of course, as long as you get to come visit ALAN, especially when he’s not doing very well, you’ll happily pretend the other Reapers are none the wiser.

Eric’s had his arm around your shoulder the whole time you walk, as usual. Not only is he protective of you, he also pretty obviously relishes any chance to give you affection that he can. Even though you’ve heard a few of the other Reapers say he’s intimidating or serious, that hasn’t been your experience. He’s big-hearted and friendly, and is forever sneaking kisses when he thinks nobody’s looking. You consider yourself incredibly lucky to have him as one of your lovers.

“So, he’s doing better now, right?” you ask as the two of you approach the door of the Medical Division.

“Mhm, doin’ a lot bet’er. He wouldn’t say it, bu’ I think he’d do good wit’ seein’ ye. Jus’ keep it down’, y’ knoo, ‘r ye migh’ get th’ stink-eye from ol’ Nurse Frightingale.” Eric winks before opening the door and gesturing you to walk through. “Aft’r ye, m’ darlin’.”

You push up on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his jaw. “What a gentleman.” With that you slip inside, Eric following so he can close the door behind the two of you.

The Medical Divisionis as quiet as most hospitals you’ve ever been in. It’s cool in temperature and you can hear the chip-choppy hum of an electric fan or two. That along with the sound of some machines are the only things you can hear, though. Everything is a soft white or pale blue shade, and more than anything, the air smells clean with soap and disinfectant. Despite Eric’s not-quite-incorrect observation of the department head, this is a relaxing place that perpetuates healing.

“Afternoon, Elysia,” he greets with a raised hand. “Jus’ brought (Name) by f’r a li’l bit, ‘f tha’s okay?”

The department head peers through her glasses at him with a very unimpressed look on her face. “Don’t get so casual, Mr. Slingby. It’s ‘Nurse Malla’ to you. Feel free to stay as long as you wish, provided you don’t get rowdy. The last thing Mr. Humphries needs is the two of you working him into a tizzy.”

He gives her a salute and mimes zipping his lips shut. “Aye, no w’rries, Nurse Malla. Ye go’ m’ word tha’ we won’t dare do nothin’ excitin’.”

You can’t help but smother a giggle as Elysia gives a long-suffering sigh. “Enjoy your visit.”

“’Preciate it, m’ lady!” Eric grins as he ushers you over to the bed Alan’s in right now.

Predictably, he looks to be attempting to review something in his ledger even though he’s clearly not feeling great. Behind his spectacles, his eyes look tired, and his shoulders are sagging like he wants nothing more than to sleep. Based on what Eric told you, however, he’s been asleep for an hour or so now.

You make sure Alan can see you before lowering yourself down onto the bed, leaning over and giving his forehead a gentle kiss. “Busy little bee, aren’t you?”

“Ah… (Name). Oh, dear, I didn’t expect Eric to bring you by.” He melts into the kiss anyway, and into the identical one that Eric gives him once he sits down. “Mm, you two. You didn’t have to come here… I’ll be leaving soon.”

You reach for his hand, and he doesn’t stop you, curling his fingers around yours. When you glance down, you’re not surprised to see thorny scars starting to twine around his wrist. “You need to relax,” you murmur. “That’s why this attack happened, isn’t it? Stress.”

“It could have been, or it could have just been from nothing. This disease doesn’t need a reason to flare up.” Alan lifts your hand and presses a reassuring kiss to your knuckles. “Don’t worry about me, darling. The attack only lasted a moment, and I’m feeling much better now.”

Eric chuckles, taking Alan’s other hand. “Aw, c’mon, d’ar. Ye cannae fault th’ poor thing f’r bein’ w’rried ‘bout ye. (Name)’s righ’ tha’ ye work tae hard.”

Alan offers an exhale through his nose, exasperated look obviously aimed at the both of you. “And you don’t work hard enough, dear. So it balances out. Anyway, I don’t fault them for being worried. I…” It seems the only reason he pauses is to glance at you with a vaguely guilty look. “… I’m just trying to reassure you, love.”

“I know.” You mirror the kiss he gave your hand on his, the same way Eric did with the kiss to Alan’s forehead. The one difference you make is that your kiss is pressed to the forming scars on his wrist. “I can’t help worrying when this happens, though. You and Eric are really important to me. I just want you to take care of yourself.” You bring his hand down, then give him a smirk. “Or you could just let us do it?”

Barely a second passes before Eric claps you on the shoulder. “Aye, darlin’, tha’s a grea’ idea!! Alrigh’, it’s settled then.”

Alan arches an eyebrow. It appears you’ve both lost him. “Oh, goodness. Dare I even ask what is settled, Eric?”

That grin on Eric’s face would definitely be trouble if he weren’t your partner in crime right at this moment. “Soon’s ye ge’ outta haur, we’re haulin’ y’r s’rry arse home early, an’ then it’s time f’r nothin’ bu’ a night’a us takin’ care’a ye! Coimhead air sin,good idea, (Name)!”

“Oh. Oh, no, the two of you can’t just—”

Alan’s halfway through his protest when a pair of heels clicks on the floor. “Slingby! (Surname)! I warned you not to work him up. So that’s it; get out!”

It takes just seconds for Eric to tug you toward the door. “Thanks f’r once, Elysia! I’ll ‘ave s’me biscuits ‘r summat on y’r desk taemarra’ mornin’!”

What follows the two of you out is a frustrated, “It’s Nurse Malla! Get it wrong one more time and you’ll find yourself here as a patient!”

[catgluue]

Chapter One: Coincidence

Happy Royai Week! In the spirit of pushing myself to do ridiculous things for no reason, I’m using the prompts as chapters in a longer fic! No promises that I’ll actually complete it this week, but I’m certainly going to try. 

Read on A03

Chapter One: Coincidence

Riza Hawkeye hadn’t expected to see the spring of 1916, and yet here it is.

It’s not quite spring - not yet - but it’s headed swiftly in that direction. The days are getting longer, she’s seeing green return to the trees, and she recalls that this time last year she was glorified secretary to a homunculus, awaiting The Promised Day.

It’s strange how life now is both normal and irrevocably transformed. The team, excepting Falman who chose to remain in the north, is back together but with new ranks and a new office. In his new capacity as Brigadier General, Mustang has merited a private office, which in Riza’s mind only impedes her ability to make sure he stays on task. If anything he’s more distracted when removed from all possible stimuli, and she sometimes invents reasons to check up on him just to make sure he’s not sleeping at his desk. It’s happening less and less, though, and she knows this means he’s able to sleep more at night.

She is too, although her sleep is still punctuated by nightmares. Recently it’s been nightmares of Ishval, which is a refreshing change of pace from the nightmares of the gold-toothed doctor and the General’s stricken face deep under the streets of Central. This is undoubtedly because they’re heading to Ishval as soon as summer is over, finally, to begin the long and futile process of redemption. She both dreads and longs for the penance of rebuilding something they’d once destroyed, knowing that absolution is impossible but hoping to find it anyway, somewhere in the desert.

She’s early to work again today, in part because of another nightmare, and goes to the mail room as a matter of course. There’s letters for the General as always - he actually gets fan mail now, which is a concept she finds so wholly repulsive it’s all she can do not to throw the letters directly into the trash. Mustang, for his part, doesn’t seem to mind, even reading parts of the amorous letters aloud, usually while throwing furtive glances in her direction. She always does her best not to react, unsure why he is under the impression that she cares. She doesn’t.

Maybe a little, only because they distract him from work.

Her heels click against the tile in the mostly empty hallway as she heads to the office, leafing through the mail, and she almost stops when she sees something addressed to her. She has no family to speak of, and her friends are all here in Central. Winry sends her regular letters but this one has a distinct lack of crayon drawings on the envelope. Who does that leave to be sending her mail?

She’s still poring over it when everyone else starts to come in. First is Fuery, a minute or two early, still yawning as he puts his bag down and gives her a casual good morning salute.

“Captain Hawkeye,” he says. “What’s that?” she folds the letter more times than is necessary and places it in a drawer.

“Nothing much. How is your report on the potential for crops in Ishvalan soil?” she asks; a far less prying question. He launches into an explanation as the letter in the drawer of her desk throbs in her mind like a heartbeat.

Captain Riza Hawkeye,

Apologies for interrupting your busy schedule, but I must relay that this past week suspicious activity has been reported on your estate. On one occasion figures were seen near the house but frightened off by the constable. I have of course ordered that a closer watch be kept on the house but it is my opinion that it may be time to sell the property as it’s been in disuse for so long.

Regards,

Ernst Meyell

Mayor

In all honesty she has half-forgotten that the manor house, probably falling down and overgrown, is her responsibility. She hasn’t given the old house much thought at all in years, apart from a nightmare she sometimes has wherein she wanders the empty halls like a ghost, calling out for her parents. She has to think harder to remember Ernst, finally recalling that he’d written to her a few years ago, saying he had taken over Mayorship of Werthem, the small town northeast of East City that Riza is from. As the others trail in and Fuery’s attention shifts, she pulls out a leave form and hastily fills it out, being purposefully vague. The General will know what was going on by the look on her face alone; this is purely a paper trail.

She waits until he comes in, says his hellos, and disappears into his office before slipping in with a coded knock. He doesn’t even look up, the knock telling him all he needs to know.

“Captain,” he says, by way of greeting, eyes still fixed on his pile of paperwork. “What can I do for you?” she slides the request on top of the pile and directly under his nose, before stepping back, hands clasped behind her back. He studies it for a moment before responding teasingly, “You’re getting sick of me already?”

“I need a week to clear out my father’s house before I sell it,” she says, and the tense silence that follows is palpable.

“Is that so? Are you going alone or is Catalina going to help?” he asks, knowing full well Rebecca is far too busy as the Furher’s assistant.

“Just me,” she tells him. “It shouldn’t take long; my father didn’t keep much around the house.” He looks like he considers this for a moment - looks like being the operative phrase here - and leans back in his chair, thoughtfully tapping his pen against the top of the desk, and her ears prick up. Tapping is their way of cluing the other person in that there’s going to be code or subtext in the talk to follow. This is an old practice, from when they still needed a signal, but one they’ve carried on for years.

“You know I’ve been thinking about taking some time off too,” he says casually and she resists the urge to roll her eyes.

“I think you should hold off until I get back,” she tells him pointedly, and he meets her even gaze with his own. He’s steepled his fingers and is peering over them as though they were in a chess match and he’d just made a bold move. “Someone has to run the office.”

“And what makes you think I’ll get anything done with you gone?” He asks, a smile ghosting his lips. They often joke about his lack of work ethic, how ‘useless’ he is without her (and he isn’t useless, only unmotivated) but something about his tone now gives her pause. He sounds almost flirtatious but underneath something in his eyes causes her stomach to knot and she realizes they’ve been practically glued to each others sides for a year.

“You’ll live,” she says sternly. “I’m sure you’ll cope how you always cope and waste time talking to some woman or other. Anyway, will you approve it?” A smile slowly spreads over his face at her implicit approval of a few coded phone calls, and the sickly-sweet feeling in her stomach intensifies.

“All right,” he says at last. “I guess we’ll have to manage somehow.”

-x-

The house is just as she remembers it, and a lump forms in her throat as she walks up to the front door, getting the key out of her pocket and fitting it into the lock with hands that nevertheless remain steady.

It’s like walking into a tomb - everything frozen in time, sheets still over the furniture from when she had placed them there almost ten years ago. She’d been a child then, she thinks, moving through the house and pulling the sheets off furniture, opening curtains to let the light in. Everything of her was pretty much gone from this place - she had taken what few possessions she wanted and simply left the rest. Her father wasn’t a material man but even after his death she’d stayed away from the study. Even now she isn’t looking forward to clearing it out.

So she doesn’’t, not yet anyway, choosing instead to start on the ground floor. She had decided on the train ride here to sell the place furnished, and so it’s only a matter of taking small things, sorting them into boxes to either donate or throw away entirely. Photos, books, knick-knacks. She does not have a box for things to keep.

She gets the first phone call about half an hour after arriving, and as she heads to the phone, still sitting on the table off the hallway, she thinks wryly that someone must have checked the train times. It certainly wasn’t information she’d included in her leave request.

“Hello?” she answers neutrally to be safe, unsure if this is an official phone call or if it’s General Mustang trying to reach his old flame Elizabeth.

“Elizabeth, it’s been a long time,” a flirtatious baritone dances down the line and her annoyance melts away.

“Yes, Roy, it has,” she replies in kind, slipping easily into the familiar character. There’s only a slim chance now that his calls are being listened to - slim, but possible - so she plays along. She, Riza, has never referred to the General by his first name in her adult life, but Elizabeth is another story. It’s almost thrilling, and while she isn’t sure she imagines that he enjoys it as well. “To what do I owe the pleasure of hearing from you?”

“The workload is light this week; my Captain is out of town,” he explains. The Captain in question leans against the wall, holding the old fashioned earpiece up with a smile playing across her mouth. “I hope I’m not bothering you.”

“Not at all,” she replies, tone light and breezy. “I’ve just been doing some packing.”

“Packing?” he replies. “Not moving, I hope?”

“Not me, my cousin,” she tells him smoothly. “I just got back from her place. I was about to take a shower, actually.” Elizabeth is shameless. “Moving is hard work, it turns out.”

“I bet,” he says and she can hear him grinning. “Well if you never need any brute strength I’m available this weekend,” he offers and she knows it isn’t directed towards Elizabeth. “You can save all the unpleasant work for me, I’d be happy to come help.” She’s quiet for a moment, thinking of the study that needs to be cleaned out eventually.  “Elizabeth?” his voice comes through, softer this time. “I mean it. Say the word and I’ll help any way I can.” She takes a shaky breath.

“Thank you, Roy,” she says, and means it. “But I- we’ll be fine. There’s not too much left to do. It was nice hearing from you,” she adds. “Feel free to call me more often.”

“I will,” he says. They say their goodbyes, her managing to squeeze in another use of his first name, and she returns to the work at hand, feeling somewhat comforted by the coded phone call.

The second call comes around dusk, surprising her as she’s leafing through a photo album that had to have been her mother’s. Pictures of Riza as a small child line the album, and stop abruptly when she’s about eight. Her father had clearly had no interest in finishing the book. She makes her way to the phone, wondering for only a second who it could be.

But of course, she knows.

“Checking up on me again?” she purrs into the mouthpiece of the old-fashioned phone, already in character.

“Multitasking,” he says briskly. He wasn’t calling Elizabeth, then, and she feels a flush of embarrassment for jumping the gun. “Captain, we’ve gotten orders to check up on Munin, and then we’re moving on to Werthem on the Fuhrer’s orders. I guess there was a break in at the house of a retired state alchemist and for some reason Grumman thinks Werthem could be a target.” She can hear the shrug in his voice, but without him in front of her it’s impossible to read what he’s thinking. It’s no accident that Grumman is sending Mustang’s crew to her tiny hometown; he would of course know precisely which alchemist lived in Werthem and would have reason not to want that alchemist’s work stolen. “We should be there in the morning.”

“Do you mean you’ll be in town or that you’ll be here as in my house?”

“I’ve got to go, Captain, have a good night!”

“Wait, General-”

There is a click as he hangs up and Riza slams the receiver down, irritated. She wants to believe he’s smart enough not to bring their entire team to her father’s house. She wants to, but she isn’t sure he has that kind of restraint. She spends most of the night cleaning up the ground floor, looking for any traces of him in the tarnished frames and worn leather albums. It’s not until she’s dug deeper, clearing out a disused drawer in the kitchen that she finds a solitary piece of paper with alchemical equations scrawled lazily in familiar handwriting. She means to throw it away, but instead fondly folds it up and tucks it into her pocket.

-x-

Chapter Two: Mortal/Immortal

[emerhys-beril]

Em’s Interview

► Name? ➔   "Eme-" he pauses for a moment, "Em. Jus' call me Em."

► Are you single? ➔ Scratches the tip of his nose, and raises his left eyebrow with a small smirk playing on his lips, "Aye, I am. Why ya askin' tha'?"

► Are you happy? ➔ "Most days,"

► Are you angry? ➔  "Oh now, tha' depends. Did the dogs get inta the pantry again?"  A couple of loud thuds sound and skittering paws scratch behind him. He sighs heavily. "OK, maybe more disappointed than angry."

► Are your parents still married? ➔  He shrugs, "Technically, they aren't."

NINE FACTS

► Birthplace ➔  "On a ship near Kul Tiras. 'r so I was told."

► Hair Color ➔ He picks up a lock of his long hair, and looks at it inquisitively; " I guess y' can say it's strawberry blonde?" he then tucks it behind his ear with a small smile.

► Eye Color ➔ "This weird shade of pale greenish blue? My mum said it's like seafoam."

► Birthday ➔ "October 19th."

► Mood ➔ "Tired. Tired all the time."

► Gender ➔ "I'm anything y' want me to be... sorry, old habits die hard. Male... 100%. Don't look't me like tha'. I'm not lyin'... ok maybe like 80%" A snicker is heard from behind him. He grumbles. "60/40? Let's decide on a number later."

► Tattoos/Scars ➔ "Got this scar here... and this one here... where'd 'at one come from? Hm..." he trails off and then realized one more thing; " I got a tattoo, but I'd rather not show it."

► Summer or winter? ➔  "Neither. But if I 'ad t' choose... Winter. People don' look at y' as weird when yer making dessert at midnight."

► Morning or afternoon? ➔ "Morning...and any time the dogs are asleep."

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE

► Are you in love? ➔  "Nope. Too much of a 'assle."

► Do you believe in love at first sight? ➔  "No." 

► Who ended your last relationship? ➔  "Myself. When I started my most recent job."

► Have you ever broken someone's heart? ➔  "Aye, n' my face got scarred for it too."

► Are you afraid of commitments? ➔  "No. Aye? No? No, th' answer's no."

► Have you hugged someone within the last week? ➔  "I've 'ad my arms wrapped aroun' people, but not huggin', no... n' I just realized that sounded a bit off now din'it?"

► Have you ever had a secret admirer? ➔  Em smirks, "Oh, I've 'ad admirers. None of them secret really."

► Have you ever broken your own heart? ➔  Em furrows his brow and thinks. "Aye? I guess I' ave."

SIX CHOICES

► Love or lust? ➔ "Why not both?" he shrugs and runs a hand through his hair. "I mean y' can love someone n' lust after another." He sighs heavily "I've seen it many times before."

► Cats or Dogs? ➔ Glances around and then states adamantly, "Cats, like 85%. Dogs are too dependent," A human male looks down from the Crowsnest scowling at the half-elf "Oi! Wot was 'at?" Em looks up at him and shouts, "Ya 'eard me!" before turning back. "Corgis are cute, though."

► A few best friends or many regular friends? ➔ "Don't 'ave many 'friends,' t' be honest. I work t' much."

► Wild night out or romantic night in?➔ "Uhm... romantic night in sounds nice, I guess? Depends on who I'm with n' wot not."

► Giving or receiving? ➔ "Both!" Em smiles widely and just leaves it at that. A cackle is heard from the Crowsnest. "Now tha's rich, mate."  Em frowns.

FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS

► Been caught sneaking out? ➔ "Not really 'out.'  More like 'away.' Can't really 'sneak out' when you don't 'ave a curfew." 

► Fallen down/up the stairs? ➔  "Loads of times! Normally pushed down stairs, fell up n' smacked my chin against the deck at one point. Tha' 'urt."

► Wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? ➔  "Aye..."

► Wanted to disappear? ➔ "Don't we all at one point?" he looks down at his hands and fiddles with his fingers.

► Been married? ➔  Em looks up from his hands, realizing he was spacing out and clears his throat. His voice cracks a few octaves higher. "Sorry?  Wot was the question?" upon hearing the question again he smiles and gestures. "Does't look like I 'ave time t' be married?" A scoff is heard from the Crowsnest. "Like anyone'd want t' marry y'." Em gave the Worgen the middle finger salute and snaps back with; "Same could be said 'bout yer snarky arse."

FOUR PREFERENCES

► Smile or eyes? ➔  A small smile graces his lips, thinking of someone. " Smile? I wonder 'ow they'd look with a real smile."

► Shorter or Taller? ➔ He chuckles softly, "Doesn't matter, but it's tough to find someone shorter than me... n' I do enjoy climbing."

► Intelligence or Attraction? ➔ "Intelligence."

► Hook-up or Relationship? ➔ "Both!" Em finger guns and clicks his tongue.

FAMILY

► Do you and your family get along? ➔ "My siblin's n' I get along well, I think. I hope?"

► Would you say you have a "messed up life"? ➔  "Not really? It's been a life though, tha's fersure."

► Have you ever ran away from home? ➔ Em pauses for a moment and frowns, "In a way, I ‘ave."

► Have you ever gotten kicked out? ➔ "Out of other people's homes." Em grinned.

FRIENDS

► Do you secretly hate one of your friends? ➔  "Aye? Though it's not really a secret. E'eryone knows I 'ate him. E'en 'e knows I 'ate him. Th' feelin's mutual." A sneeze is heard from the Crowsnest. 

► Do you consider all of your friends good friends? ➔ He shrugs, "For the most part, but as I've said, I don't 'ave many friends."

► Who is your best friend? ➔ Em glances around, making sure the one in question isn't around to hear him, he then whispers, "Don' tell 'im, but it's the First Mate. 'e's a bit of a dingus, n' if 'e knew, 'e wouldn' leave me alone."

► Who knows everything about you? ➔ "This one guy. No one 'ere knows 'im, but 'e knows close enough to e'erythin' abou' me. Hopefully, not E'ERYTHIN'.  Because that would be an awkward conversation t' 'ave."

[shewolfofficial]

You asked for requests so here’s one ❤️ Scenario where the girl levi likes A l o t has a break down because of how overworked she is and he helps her through it xx

Warning: Cursing

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Work

Training

More training.

Cleaning.

Back to paperwork.

You were tired.

No scrap that.

You were exhausted.

Last night you decided to stay up until you finished the heap of paperwork that waited to be finished.

It was 9am in the morning.

You had just gotten over halfway.

‘‘Screw this..’‘ you muttered groggily, wrist aching from the endless hours of writing and dipping your quill into one of the many ink jars you had. Curtains closed and the door locked you had caved yourself in your room to stop any distractions from interrupting your you time. Oh how much you wanted to get a great good few hours of sleep right now, but that certainly wasn’t the case when it came to the shitty topic of paperwork. Stomach rumbling like a dreary monster waiting to be fed you sighed inwardly, halting your work you rested your elbow on your desk and pinched the bridge of your nose in irritation. ‘‘Not leaving this room until I get this shit done… Holy fuck I’m turning into Levi now..’’ you grunted before a yawn made its way past your lips.

‘‘Maybe a little walk wouldn’t do any harm… Oh! Breakfast is in 7 minutes!’‘ your mood lightened at the thought of food, something you were currently craving. Standing up the low creak of your chair against the wooden floor echoed throughout the room as you got up with a stretch, turning to face behind you-you yanked open the curtains letting the warm sunlight shine through and brighten your office. Popping your joints you didn’t bother putting on your jacket as you stalked towards the door, sending an annoyed look back towards the papers as if to attempt to threaten them before you left.

Clicking the door shut you made your way through the never-ending corridors, eventually arriving in the mess hall quiet chatter filled the room. People were scattered around at various tables eating and talking few missing since it’s just morning and they’d be waking up around now. Superior table filled with the same people as you got your grub before strolling over, fixing your hair ever so slightly as you arrived taking a seat next to Hanji who grinned widely at you. ‘’Good morning F/N! Sleep well?’’ she chirped as you cocked a tired brow at her ‘’I was doing paperwork all night, almost got it finished’’ you explain as she nods in understanding. 

// Time Skip - Breakfast’s Finished \

‘‘Yahhoo! F/N~!’‘ 

Stopping in your tracks back to your office you turned around to see Hanji skipping towards you with another stack of paperwork making your shoulders slump slightly. 

‘Why does the world hate me?’

Incorhently grumbling you felt Hanji shove the stack of papers into your arms before sending you a friendly smile, ruffling your hair she disappeared around the corner without another word leaving you there speechless in the middle of the corridor. Looking down to the papers you sighed knowing you just got yourself another night of work and no sleep.

Subconscious tears brimmed to the corner of your eyes as you felt yourself crumble to the stone floor beneath you. You were too emotionally and physically tired for any more stress and work to be laid onto you. Sobbing you watched as the papers flew out of your trembling grasp, floating and sliding all around you in a somewhat taunting manner. Tears rolling down your cheeks you outstretched your frail hand in order to begin to start collecting the pages, choosing to ignore your rapid heartbeat and breathing your throat felt tight as more tears fell down onto the stone below you.

‘‘Tch, F/N what are you doing-’‘

That bored voice shot through your form as you snapped your head upwards, despite your watery E/C eyes looking up to see Levi standing a few steps away from you, winter-like orbs studying your current situation before he appeared kneeling in front of you a second later. Resting a hand on your shoulder you averted your gaze from his own as Levi furrowed his brows before glancing to the papers which were littered all over the floor. ‘’Are you alright?’’ he asked turning back to you, charcoal hair shining in the sunlight from the window. ‘’Ye-Yeah….I’m fine.. Just a little stressed.. Don’t worry..’’ you say catching your breath as Levi gives you a concerned look that said otherwise. 

‘‘You’re not finished your other work from yesterday are you?’‘ he questioned earning a shy shake of the head from you ‘’fine, I’ll help you with it.. But first, you need to calm down… It’s alright, we’ll get that shit done’‘ he said as you nodded finally meeting his soothing gaze. ‘‘Tha-Thanks Levi..’‘ you mutter as you both begin to pick up the pages, Levi grunted in response and helped you up after you both collected the pages. Walking to your office in calm silence, opening the door you walked on in, letting Levi in past you before you nudged it shut with your heel. 

Turning around you watched as Levi pulled over a spare chair next to your own behind your desk, smiling a little you join him behind your desk as you both begin on the work. Quiet chatter would fill the office every now and then but every other time you weren’t talking you were left in a comfortable silence. 

Some while later you both finish the paperwork and now sit casually talking without a care in the world, you had just come back with tea for the two of you. ‘’So, feeling better now?’’ Levi sipped his tea, holding it by the rim like usual as he eyed you ‘’yeah, thanks for helping me Levi.. I owe you one’’ you say smiling to him with vibrant E/C orbs as he shakes his somewhat. ‘’Repay me by actually getting some sleep, you looked like a zombie this morning at breakfast’’ he clicked his tongue shifting his silvered orbs elsewhere around the office. Laughing a little you sit back in your chair ‘’alright then, I’ll do that later tonight’’ you sing in a playful tone as he rolls his eyes placing down his tea-cup on the desk in front of him before turning to you.

Resting an arm on the wooden arm rester of the chair Levi leaned over to you slightly. Jacket off and sleeves rolled up to his elbows, he still wore his cravat neatly around his collar as he slowly leant towards you with a lulled look. Placing down your cup you gave him a questionable look. 

Wait.

How could you be so oblivious?

He’s going in for the kiss dammit!

Face lighting up in a bright pink colour you felt his lips on your own, the saccharine taste of tea along with the warmth of his thin lips moulding with your own as you tilted your head to the side ever so remotely so your noses wouldn’t bump off each other, tongue grazing over your lower lip he ran it along back and forth pleading for permission which you teasingly denied as you entangled your hands in his onyx hair. Resting his hands on your knees he dragged them in a painfully slow manner up and down your thighs making you squeak and mewl under his touch.

‘’Hey F/N I was wonderi-’’

 Eyes shooting open, you tore yourself away from Levi whilst swatting away the string of saliva that followed. Darting your gaze towards the door to your room you found Eren standing there with Armin who was in a flushed state behind the emerald-eyed boy. Eyes going as wide as dinner plates Eren instantly saluted from fright ‘’u-uh! Captain! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to interrupt!’’ Eren choked out shrinking away from the glare Levi was sending him. ‘’W-What’s wrong Eren?’’ you pondered as the boy calmed his posture a little ‘’I was wondering- If you wanted to play truth or dare with me and the others.. But you’re busy so I-I’ll see you later’’ Eren said desperately trying to ignore the deathly looks Levi was shooting at him, closing the door behind him you heard him walk off with Armin.

Glancing back to you Levi scowled from being interrupted before standing up abruptly, chair screeching against the wooden floor as he loomed over you. ‘’Bed. Go’’ he pointed to the door to your right which belonged to your bedroom. ‘’Alright sir..’’ you said in a teasing voice getting up and strutting into your room followed by Levi.

[dannowilliamsrp]

If youre taking requests please a mcdanno family where Steve discover that he will have a son with Cat when he's already with Danny so they decide to co parent tha baby whos name will be Matty you know for Danny's bro... maybe cath die on the birth day ir disapair ? Pleaseee and thnks 💖

Alright, let’s see what we can do! ~~~~~~~~~~~~It wasn’t a secret that Steve had issues with both of his parents, which later in life caused him more issues, mainly with trust. It also wasn’t a secret that because of that, he was very close and cared a lot about Joe. Feeling responsible for both of his father figures deaths left Steve in a very dark place. Though he’d never mention it to anyone, he was a bit surprised he had survived his revenge plot. After the dust settled and he had a moment to breathe, he didn’t really feel all that better about losing Joe. Some wounds that deep don’t fully heal, only scar. He tried his best to honor Joe’s memory and listen to some of the final things he had to say. Especially about the waiting too long thing. At first, he thought he meant Catherine. She’d been an important part of his life, and his revenge plot involved her immediately and initially because she needed to be part of it as much as Steve. He let his feelings at the time rule him and for a moment he thought that that was what Joe meant. But Cat was too much like him. So she couldn’t stay. The job came first, and the need to help and protect, and conquer the demons of the past was way stronger than their feelings for each other. They still loved each other, but...there was a bigger sense in both of them. Something that called Cat back out to battle, and something that called Steve back to Hawaii. He wasn’t sure what it was at first, but when his eyes landed on Danny waiting for him when he got home, it clicked. Boy, did it click. The moment he was back in Danny’s arms, the moment he let himself cry and grieve over the loss he just had, was the moment he had the most obvious epiphany ever. He was home. Not at the McGarrett house, but with Danny. Danny was home. Steve let himself settle for a while, get back into the old grind of the day by day. It was comforting that no matter what happened, he and Danny would just click back together. He was a bit...scared, about making his move and told himself he had time. And he did...until it was clear that some old feelings between Rachel and Danny were resurfacing. That forced his hand and it made him make the most awkward confession he’s ever had. Danny was shocked and more confused than ever. The blond couldn’t deny feelings that have always been there with Steve, but after Joe and seeing that Catherine was someone Steve had called first, he figured that was it. Danny asked Steve for some time, and Steve was happy to give it. Happy that now that Danny had this in his head, he wouldn’t do something stupid like go back to his ex just because he had a very emotional experience with Grace and thought that Steve wasn’t available. They eventually talk. They state where they are in their point of life and what they want. The damn realization that they’ve had basically the best relationship they’ve ever had already but only on a platonic level. They were ready to take it up a notch.“But I ain’t that easy, babe,” Danny told him with a soft smile.“Not even for me?” Steve asked with a smirk. “No, see for that, you’re not even getting a goodnight kiss. You want me, you’re gonna have to woo me.”“Woo you?” Steve echoed, obvious happiness radiating off of him. Danny hadn’t rejected him. He’d risked everything because if he couldn’t have Danny as a lover, having him as a partner was the next best thing. He and the kids were his family too. If he had messed that up, Steve really didn’t want to think about the dark shit hole he’d be in. “Yeah, woo. Meaning you’re taking me out to eat, you’re gonna be gentlemanly, and you’re gonna pay.” Danny said, counting the things with his fingers.“If I’m wooing you then that means I’m also driving you, so no more complaining about that.” Steve countered.Danny rolled his eyes, “Babe, by now I think you know that I’d follow you anywhere...with mild complaining. Get used to it.”Steve smiled and reached out to grab Danny’s hand and interlock their fingers, “I plan to.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Due to them knowing each other for nearly a decade in what could be argued as the longest and healthiest of their relationships, taking it to another level was both simple and complicated. It was all there, they just now had the liberty to act on certain feelings they had to repress before. And once that was a liberty they loved to take, one weekend they disappeared completely and came back Monday morning to zero tension. Needless to say, a lot of money was exchanged as their newfound relationship was confirmed. Grace was very happy for them, which is something Steve thanks God for every day. “You sure you’re okay with this?” Steve asked her once when they were out shopping together. She rolled her eyes playfully. “More than okay. Heck, for a while when I was younger, I thought you were...”Steve looked at her with a raised eyebrow. She shrugged, “Danno wouldn’t talk about anything else but you and when mom tried to say something bad, he’d defend you...it was Danno’s way of loving you, ya know.”Steve nodded and then asked, “I don’t wanna be the evil stepmother in this. You and I have always gotten along but it is different now. And I know that after your accident maybe you...you might have hoped that...”“That mom and Danno would get back together?” She asked and Steve nodded. “I think any kid with divorced parents thinks that at some point but...not me. I’ve lived through their divorce once. I was little so I didn’t always understand everything...but I knew that Danno was angry at some of my mom’s choices and I know he loved me more than anything. He gave up his whole world to come to be with me...I want someone for him who’d do the same. And that’s you.”Steve hugged Grace tightly. When they pulled away he promised her, “I love him. And I will prove to him, and you and the whole damn world that he is the one for me.”Grace smiled, “I know.” Then she got serious and jabbed him in his chest, “Because if you ever hurt Danno...you’ll be sorry.”Steve chuckled, but saluted her in a soldier way, “You got it, Monkey.” It was the first time he’s openly called her Danny’s nickname for her, and it seemed natural. She didn’t correct him at least. This...this is how it’s meant to be. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Living on an island for as long as he has, Steve knows that as much of a paradise it can be, when a storm brews, it can be disastrous. A few months later, he receives a call from Catherine, asking him to meet. He feels like something is immediately wrong because she’s never had to ask him to meet like this. He was pretty sure they were both in a clear understanding of how things were left off. Or so he’d hoped. He dreaded to think he’d have to break her heart or any hopes. But he was with Danny now. And he was deliriously happy. They meet and Steve immediately sees what this might be about. He does the math in his head and it fits. “We used a condom.” Were the first words out of his mouth.“Which only guarantees 97%...I’m sure you’ve seen FRIENDS,”  Catherine replied. Steve is dumbstruck with the information to make any sort of witty reply. Worry and fear build up inside of him and all he could think about was Danny’s reaction. “Steve?”“I...I’m with Danny...I...I love him...” Catherine smiled softly and placed a hand on his arm, “I know. When we left..I knew that was it. For that chapter anyway. I hoped we could still be friends.”“I still love you Cat. Just...differently. And this...”She placed a finger on his lips to quiet him. “You have a right to know, which is why I’m telling you. I’m not here to cause trouble. I...I know this might not be the easiest thing to deal with. But I couldn’t keep this from you. I’m not going to ask you to choose.”“You’re not?”“No. I know you’d do the honorable thing, but we’re living in a modern world. And deep down, I think we all know you’d still choose Danny. But I’d rather take the option ‘and’ instead of ‘or’. You can have Danny, and gods know you deserve his love...and you can have your child. I still love you...you know I won’t ever stop but like you said...it’s different now. But still as real.” Steve is overwhelmed with emotion and new information. They sit so he could catch his breath and talk over all they know.  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Tell Danny was hard. Even though it happened before they got together, Danny knew how loyal Steve was and assume that was it for them. Steve did his best to reassure him that they weren’t done, not by his account. Danny needed time and as much as it hurt Steve to be away from him at a time like this, he respected Danny’s wishes. Doesn’t mean he wasn’t in a more than depressed state. All he could think about was losing Danny, not being a good father, realizing he was going to become an actual father! “-eve? Steve! STEVEN!” Steve snapped out of it when he realized that Danny was in front of him. He furrowed his brow. “Wh-what are you doing here?”It’d only been a few hours since Steve’s told Danny and Danny had left. “What do you mean what am I doing here? I sort of live here.”“I know but...I thought you needed some time?” “I did. And I had it. Plus your natural impulse control disappears at times like these. I was worried about you...”Steve tried to smile, but the uncertainty he felt deep in his bones made it hard to keep it. He reached over on instinct and interlocked their fingers, “How are you?”“I think I should be asking you that,” Danny replied.“I asked you first.” Steve quipped back. Danny rolled his eyes a bit, but in a fond manner as he placed his other hand over his and Steve’s interlocked ones. “I’ve had some time to think. This will have its hardships but...”“But?” Steve asked, hope creeping into his voice. “But...I’ve had two kids of my own. One in the ‘proper’ way that ended badly. And another kid, out of wedlock, without knowing he was mine for years...I can’t let you go through what I went through with Charlie. I won't be the reason you miss out on your kid’s life. But don’t you dare doubt for a damn second that I’m giving up on you. I love you.”Steve leaned in and kissed Danny fiercely, relief flooding him. “I love you too, Danno. So much.”“Then that’s all that matters. We’ll make plans, we’ll talk with Cat, we’ll tell the team, babyproof the house...looks like we’re having a baby.” Danny told him. And that’s when it hits Steve in that way. It never occurred to him like that. Danny and he were in a relationship. Once they figured out the custody and living arrangements...it would be their baby. Danny’s and his...because Danny was the best father ever, no contest.  And his child will have Danny to care and love them. He leaned in and kissed Danny again, he was so happy this was turning out so great. “We’re having a baby.”~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~I’m falling asleep xD I’ll write the second part later. This was the setup, the next part will be the pregnancy, finding out the sex of the baby, the talking about the name, and the rest of it. But I hope you liked this so far ^^

[shooter-nobunagun]

[There is a point, a singularity where it all begins and then the path splits into innumerable different roads...]

[What happens in ‘to the beginning’, it all starts here. But as for which path will be the ultimate outcome...you will have to decide for yourself.]

“Jack-san! Hurry, your son’s just been born!” The nurse on duty rushed out of the sliding doors as he strode into the hall, sliding the final locks of his gear in place.

Good. He’d made it just in time.

“Came in at 7.4 pounds, only half an hour of labor and with a full head of hair already! It’s blonde right now, but it’ll probably darken later on,” the head nurse chatted away cheerfully, but he barely heard her comments; they were irrelevant after all, when he could just see the child for himself.

“—Aah, and our new father has arrived! Gud timing, tha’s fer sure. Congratulations, Adam.” A hearty clap from the Scottish man who’d been there to assist, only just returned with the slightest of nods because there was only one—no, two people now were the only things that mattered—

“Oh, look who’s here...” She was as exhausted as he’d ever seen her, but her face couldn’t be more proud. His beautiful wife Sio Ogura, codename “Nobunagun”, lay there with her hair spread in a messy halo, the crying newborn cradled softly against her chest. “Look, it’s tou-san...” Gently she lifted the baby towards him, who started fussing and squirming and wondering who this stranger was carrying him away.

“I...hello there...” He could hardly breathe, unsure of anything or what to even say—but the swell of pride in his chest and the beginnings of that deep, inexplicable bond of parental love—that was something he could understand, and embrace. This was his child—their child; all theirs, something special made just by the two of them. “Aren’t you something else...”

“He’s beautiful, isn’t he? His eyes are just like yours, you know.” A tired but proud voice from her as he softly stroked his son’s fine hair and peered at those emeralds that, one day, would look the same as his. “I can’t believe he’s here…”

“I can hardly believe it myself,” he murmured, blinking rapidly because his eyes were getting moist. “Sio…you did great, love…”

She sighed contentedly as he returned the baby to its mother, who proceeded to squirm and root around for her nipple. “Oh! I guess he’s hungry already...” Smiling, she shed the top half of her robe and the infant latched on, suckling noisily.

“He’s a smart one, tha’s fer sure. Oy Adam, surely ye can stay a wee bit longer? Don’t hear Geronimo paging fer ye over the system yet...”

“I…” He was supposed to shake his head no, and gently but firmly inform everyone, his wife included, that he had to leave soon; Geronimo was already waiting at the drop pod’s entrance, and this mission could not be delayed any further. And yet he just stood there, nodding wordlessly for a second, before leaning down and giving his newborn son the smallest of kisses on his tiny head, before sweeping Sio up into a full, warm kiss. “I love you…both of you…” Warmth, pride and most of all an overwhelming feeling of love; love and affection towards his wife, the protective love of a father towards his child, and the love and gratitude from his friends and family who were there to help support them through all this.

“I love you too, Adam…I know it’s cheesy, but I can’t remember being happier…he’s so perfect…” She lay buried against his chest, both of them watching their baby peacefully as he nursed.

In this moment, it was hard for Adam to comprehend they were still fighting. That in fact, outside of this sheltered little haven, the world was not at peace; indeed, the war that led them to meet in the first place was still raging, more terrible than ever. It had only been the longest of odds that allowed him to be present for the birth of his son, rather than swept onto the battlefield as they’d originally planned. Even as Hunter strode over to open the window for a touch of fresh air, the icy hail greeting them was indicative of the harsh reality of their fortress’s chosen path.

The Alex Logan, their home-away-from-home for many years now, battling through a fierce snowstorm as it crossed over the Arctic circle along its route. Still, despite the harsh weather it was one of the few places left that afforded them some measure of safety, even in the air. The Alaskan wilderness had reported disturbing activity through the frozen ground itself—and as much as Geronimo despised the cold, she and Jack were the only ones who had enough strength and the right weapons to hack through a battlefield of ice.

“Mmmnn…Adam, you really have to go?” Hazy maroons glanced upwards, but he kissed them shut. “I know…Geronimo’s probably blowing a gasket right about now…”

“Heh; let me handle her, love. I’ll be fine.” As he reluctantly got up from the warmth of their embrace, the reality of his mission came flooding back in the form of adrenaline. Despite Geronimo’s seniority, he was the field commander for this mission, with the leader of the First Platoon as his second. Years of competitive rivalry had somewhat mellowed out into a utilitarian, if not friendly, professional relationship. Still, Adam knew he’d never hear the end of it if he was late—and Geronimo was always punctual.

“Say good-bye to tou-san for now, okay? Don’t worry, he’ll be back…won’t he?” Those maroon orbs cast an enigmatic shadow over her face; worried, but trying her best to remain hopeful, to remain calm and let him focus on the battle at hand without worrying about them.

“Of course, Sio. You know I’ll be fine; especially with Geronimo, we can handle whatever’s down there.” It felt at that moment he was invincible, even though Galileo had warned him there was a very real chance whatever was causing the signals was entirely unknown, and more than likely extremely dangerous. But in the warmth of his new family it was hard to see beyond that sphere, of the real world that lay outside this steel fortress.

“Be careful out there, mate. I mean it.” As he secured the final parts of his suit, Hunter came up to him looking as serious as he’d ever appeared. “This ain’t just some gung-ho, kill count free-for-all anymore—ye’ve got more than jus’ one t’ live fer, now.”

Click. The steel in his emeralds sent a shiver down even Hunter’s spine. “Don’t worry, Hunter. I know...believe me, I know it now, more than ever...”

And still he felt no fear; Nightingale chastised him for being overconfident and warned him hubris was just as deadly was cowardice, but he ignored her. There was no way...no way he’d let his child grow up without a father, without parents. Even if this war would consume the rest of their lives, he and Sio had agreed to do everything they could to raise a family, as best they could.

He was supposed to go, but only one step forward before he turned heel and, not even caring the room was full of hospital staff and Hunter, swept Sio into a full, passionate kiss; a little deeper and hungrier than would be proper for public eyes, but nothing could shake him right now. “I promise, I’ll be back just fine,” he whispered, before kissing her eyelids, one at a time, and then one final brush on his son’s forehead. “Wait for me, loves.”

“Adam...be careful...and come back to us. We’ll be waiting...” A single tear slid down but he wiped that up before it even fell. “Please...”

“Of course. I promise.” And then he proceeded to climb out the window, much to everybody’s surprise.

“Uh, Adam? Drop pod’s down the hall, unless there’s some new procedure I’m not aware of...”

“Oh, I know.” Shrugging nonchalantly, he spread those enormous razor-tinged wings, yet white feathers still fell to the ground like snow. “But I figured, this way Geronimo won’t be chewing my ear off about how I��m late.” 

With a final salute, he casually fell out backwards, before spreading his wings and meeting up with the drop pod just as it was about to begin the launch sequence.

“About damn time! I was starting to think I’d have to handle this frozen mess on my own, Jack.” There was an irritated glare as the short-haired woman snapped her pocket watch shut, slipping it back inside her suit. “I know your wife just gave birth, and congrats and all, but did you really have to cut it so close?!”

Adam could only shrug helplessly, that grin still lingering on his face. “Sorry Geronimo, but I did make it before the launch, as I said I would...”

“Pfft yeah, 10 seconds is a real margin.”

“Better than 0.1 second.”

“Whatever. Just strap in, Alaska’s not gonna save itself...that frozen piece of shit...” Still, he knew she wasn’t really mad at him. A birth from one of their own had been the talk of the entire organization ever since Sio became pregnant nine months ago, and now with his son’s arrival at last, he was sure there was bound to be some sort of celebration—which he would miss, but that wasn’t the important part.

“So, do we know anything else about this ‘mysterious’ Object?”

“Jack the Ripper, Geronimo, launch sequence will begin in T minus 10, 9, 8...”

“Nope. Don’t have a damn clue still. But hey, when has that ever stopped you...”

“Isn’t that my line?”

“—4, 3, 2—”

“Look Jack,” and she turned to look at him square in the eye, “just don’t go and do something stupid that’ll require me to haul your ass back, or worse, your corpse. And I’m not just saying this because Nobunagun’ll turn me into Swiss cheese if that happens—you’re a father now. You’re responsible for more than just your own life. So don’t fuck it up, got it?”

He grinned, that smile crossing from excitement into bloodlust as the pod began its acceleration. “Geronimo, mate...I don’t think you’ll have anything to worry about...except how many of those creatures you can slay today.”

“Oh, I think that would be your problem, Jack.”

"...So, first to 100? Loser buys the winner a round?”

She licked her lips and both of them stared at each other with rather psychotic grins. “Sure, Jackie-boy. Just remember, this was your idea.”

“Of course, of course...”

Some things never changed; the rivalry between him and Geronimo, that would probably go down until the end of time. But other things, like his new family...

‘Sio, I promise I’ll be back, safe and sound. This is only the beginning, after all...of the next chapter in our lives.’

Nothing would happen to them; he would make sure of that. No matter what came at them, or what foreboding visions Nightingale might have hinted at, he didn’t believe them—couldn’t believe them. For he was Adam Muirhead, the reincarnation of one Jack the Ripper and Florence Nightingale, and she was Sio Ogura, the reborn soul of the infamous warlord Oda Nobunaga. And nothing could stand in their way when they were together, not even fate.

Ah...but you know, even my powers cannot predict the future...so let it be said, that no matter what may come your way, you must be the ones to hold onto that hope...for at each starting point, there will forever be an innumerable number of paths that you might take...

[odderancyart]

Retribution

Chapter 4

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Summary: A late night, after yet another unfruitful day with no work, Detective Edge Serif receives a phonecall from the countryside. There seems to have been a murder.

Warnings: Murder, Violence, Swearing, vaguely referenced minor Past Abuse

Note: With a small visit from @itsladykit‘s Twist because I love him

Soon, Sir Razz and his brother move to leave the entrance hall behind, but before they can do so, the door shrieks as it opens again, making Edge wince. Insufferable noise. A skeleton peeks inside. Their skull is cracked, and they have only one eyelight, which is the colour of pure gold. They’re grinning as their eye sweep over the room before they look at Mr Ashton, who nods.

“Take in the bags, Twist,” he says, and the skeleton – Twist – salutes lazily.

“Will do, sir,” he replies cheerfully before plopping outside again. His accent is difficult to place, but it’s absolutely American.

Edge takes a step back as Sir Razz and Mr Ashton exit, quietly catching up with each other, and leans against the wall as he pretends not to listen. All in all, he doesn’t learn much: Sir Razz lets his brother know about what happened to his husband, and he finds out Mr Ashton had apparently taken an unplanned ‘business trip’ to Europe after refusing yet another marriage suggested by Mr and Mrs Ashton. The Ashtons certainly seems to be doing quite well, despite the state of the country’s economy.

In the back of his mind, he knows he recognizes that name. Ashton. It rings incredibly familiar, but he cannot place it.

He hears Sir Razz quietly scold his brother as they disappear around the corner, followed by Blue. Immediately after, Stretch reappears just in time for the doors to be thrown open and Twist, carrying multiple bags, stumbles in and drops them to the ground. Stretch winces, but Twist seems unbothered as he raises a hand and waves eagerly.

“Stretch! How’s it goin’, darlin’?” he asks, striding straight up to Stretch and throwing an arm over his shoulder. Edge raises an eyebrow from where he’s watching.

Chuckling, Stretch ducks out from beneath his arm and goes to pick up the bags. At least, that’s what Edge assumes he is doing, but then he just stands among them without actually doing it as Twist catches up with him again. He glances the way the others went, and then toward Edge, a question in his gaze. Edge shakes his head in confirmation that he’s not going to tell anyone what’s happening. But he’s not about to leave either, unless they ask it of him. Stretch nods back.

“Just fine, considering the circumstances.” He turns to Twist again, grinning, and his smile is sincerer than any other expression he’s worn. He’s relaxed. “How was Europe?”

“Lotsa fun, France has a lot o’ great bars, and Monaco’s got th’ best casinos, but ya didn’t hear tha’ from me. Mrs Ashton would freak if she heard ‘er son went ta casinos. If ya ever can get time off ya should come wi’ us, sweetheart, ya’d enjoy yerself ‘m sure.” His grin widens, and he winks. Edge hums in consideration. Well, Mr Ashton doesn’t seem like he cares a lot about societal rules then, if Twist, who undeniably was some sort of servant, was as friendly with him as it seemed. Twist turned around, waving toward him, and Edge waves back in surprise. “An’ who’s this gentleman, sweetheart?”

Stretch’s smile grows as he gestures toward Edge, straightening, and Edge hears his voice change from the easy, natural pitch he had when talking with Twist to what Edge can only describe as his ‘official’ voice. “May I introduce Detective Edge Serif. Sir Razz hired him to investigate the murder.” Then the official tone suddenly disappears again, and he smirks. “Private detective and lover of cats. Detective, this is Twist, Mr Ashton’s chauffeur and unofficial companion.”

“Th’ lil’ burglars?”

“Yep.” Stretch plops on the ‘P’. “Rascals got into the house again.”

“Good, the darlings deserve some love.” Without warning, he twists around and hoists two of the bags off the ground.  “Welp, better get these up ta Slim’s room, my bro’s waitin’ fer me.”

“You’re not staying?” The disappointment is obvious in Stretch’s expression, and Edge can’t help but wonder what kind of relationship those two has.

Shaking his head, Twist smiles. “Nah. Haven’t seen Blackberry fer three months now, an’ Slim gave me paid time off ta go home an’ visit ‘im.”

“I ca-”

“Detective,” a rough voice interrupts, and all three of them twist around to see Inspector Fuente standing in the doorway. He’s frowning, but gestures for Edge to follow. Stretch immediately stiffens, the humour falling off his face, but Twist only nods his head in greeting without dropping his grin. “A word.”

Blinking, Edge nods goodbye to the two servants and follows the inspector out, bewildered. Their footsteps echoes between the walls of the manor. “I thought you despised my mere presence here, Inspector,” he says dryly, staring down at the stiff-shouldered policeman.

“Yes,” Inspector Fuente answers shamelessly, glaring at him. “But Doctor Gaster was an important man, and Sir Razz’s family even more so, and this case must be solved. Chief Commissioner Bennett telephoned me and gave me orders to cooperate with you.”

“I recognize his family name,” Edge comments, hiding his mixed feelings on the new development. On one hand, it would be great for his career if he solved the murder singlehandedly, but on the other, it will undoubtedly be easier with Inspector Fuente’s assistance. If nothing else, it is undeniable that a detective inspector is more experienced with serious crimes than he is. “Ashton, was it?”

The inspector lets out a surprised laugh, staring at him in disbelief. He stops mid-step before continuing to lead him upstairs. “Yeah. You don’t know who they are? Sir Razz’s father used to be governor of New York. The Ashtons are one of the richest, most influential families in the US. You can see why this case is of outmost importance, and why you can’t mess it up. You’ll destroy both our careers with one mistake, buddy. Be careful.”

Oh. Breathing in slowly, to fight down the heat threatening to rush to his cheeks, Edge nods. Yeah, that’s right, he remembers reading about him in the newspaper. Then he stiffens as Inspector Fuente continues. Digging his claws into his palms until pain flashes through them, he sniffs. “I will do my best, Inspector.”

“Guess that’s all I can ask. We’re here.” Inspector Fuente stops outside a dark door and pulls up a key from his coat pocket. The lock clicks as the door opens, and he gestures for Edge to come in. It’s a study, Edge realizes, with a wall covered in photos of the crime scene and the suspects, and a writing desk full of papers and a typewriter. There’s a table with two armchairs by the wall, and a bottle of sriracha on the table between them. The wallpaper is pale golden with flowers on it, and an enormous window gives a grand view of the moors behind the manor. In the distance, he spots a village with a narrow gravel road leading that way from the manor.

Stepping inside, Edge steps past the desk, glancing down on the many papers covering it. Reports, charts, and one paper that in cursive letters reads Dearest Mother. He averts his eyes from that one. Reading personal correspondence without a very good reason is quite immoral. Acting as though he hasn’t seen it, he steps up to the wall covered in clues. There are pictures of all the house’s residents, with threads connecting them to different papers.

Papyrus Safont, born July 25, 1903 in Sofia, Bulgaria. Moved to London, England in 1914 with mother Vitoriya Dobromir. Father: Unknown, likely Spanish. Siblings: none.  Because of his surname, probably. Edge had known a Safont in school, and her parents were from Valencia.

Razz Gaster, née Ashton, born May 1, 1905 in Albany, New York. Mother: Angelica Ashton, née Nelson. Father: Henry Ashton. Siblings: Slim Ashton.

Blue Fontaine, born September 9, 1905 in Bath, Great Britain. Mother: Philippa Fontaine, née Marley. Father: Theodore Fontaine. Siblings: Clara Fontaine, Stretch Fontaine,

Stretch Fontaine, born December 28, 1906 in London, Great Britain. Mother: Philippa Fontaine, née Marley. Father: Theodore Fontaine. Siblings: Clara Fontaine, Blue Fontaine.

Blinking, he puts a finger over the unknown name. Clara Fontaine. Turning to look at Inspector Fuente, he taps a claw against it. “The Fontaines have a sister?”

“Yep.” The inspector sounds amused as he pulls out a drawer, picking up a file. As he flips it open, he reveals a photo of a skeleton in a knee-length dress leaning against a bar counter, a bottle of whisky in her hand. “Clara Fontaine, born 1899. She eloped the year before Sir Razz’s wedding and is now the owner of a Scottish tavern in Bibawik, Minnesota together with her Scottish lover, Riley Johnson. To my knowledge, the Fontaines broke all contact with her, except the odd letter and photo she sends. She is the Fontaines’ great shame. Sir Razz has never met her.”

“So she has nothing with this to do,” Edge comments, and Inspector Fuente shakes his head. Continuing to study the wall, he nods slowly, turning to stare down at the other. He crosses his arms. “Very well, I will work with you. If you stop coming with rude quips about my background, sir. I’ve worked the skin off my bones to get where I am now, and believe me. I am not going back to the factory.”

Inspector Fuente sniggers before nodding, putting the folder back in the drawer. He leans back against the desk, grinning up at him. “Fair enough. Just keep in mind I’ve solved murders before, kid, and you have not.”

“Don’t call me that, I’m thirty-two-years-old,” Edge growls as a faint feeling of nausea rises in him. Pale images of a suit-clad man leaning against his cane, telling him to ‘Stop screaming, kid, it’s not that bad,’ as he’s clutching his bleeding, half-crushed arm flashes behind his eyes. He raises his hand, placing it protectively over the remaining scars, and pulls his coat arm farther down. Never again.

“Huh,” Inspector Fuente hums, handing him another file. “Fine. Here’s everything you need to know, and the Chief Commissioner’s order. You better read it all.” He fishes up a keychain from his pocket. “An’ here’s a key to the crime scene and to this office. Knock before you enter. I want to hear your thoughts on the case this afternoon.”

“And I yours, sir.” The word tastes sour in Edge’s mouth. “This afternoon, then.”

…

Before he can properly discuss the case with Inspector Fuente, there are two more people Edge needs to talk with. Preferably alone, so he hopes he won’t be interrupting anything as he makes his way toward the tearoom, after asking Stretch for directions. Behind a half-open white-painted door, he finds Sir Razz and his brother sitting in a pastel green couch, in a colourful room that doesn’t at all fit into the aesthetic of the rest of the manor. Not in the slightest: its walls are pale yellow, and the furniture – from the tables to the elegant armchairs – is all in white, metallics, and pastels.

He knocks gently on the door with his knuckles, and the two look his way as Sir Razz stirs his white porcelain cup. Even from this distance, Edge can see it has roses painted on. Today, Sir Razz isn’t in a dress, but rather in a suit that appears as though it would have come straight out of a fashion advertisement.

“May I have a word, sir?” he asks as Sir Razz met his gaze, and after a moment, his current employer nods.

“Slim, leave us for a moment,” he says before waving for Edge to come in. As he and Mr Ashton pass by each other, their arms brushing against each other for a moment, Edge can feel the other study him. He calmly meets his gaze. He has no idea why the other seems to size him up like that, since he doubts he knows of his background, but it doesn’t much matter, as long as it doesn’t affect his ability to work the case. He is very used to people disliking him: he isn’t a very likeable person. It has never bothered him – the people scared off were not worth his time anyway.

Sir Razz gestures for him to sit down, and sips on his tea before showing that Edge is free to take his own. After a second of hesitance, he does. It seems rude to refuse. “My apologies that we have to serve ourselves, Detective. Stretch is busy readying my brother’s room.”

“It’s really no trouble, sir,” Edge replies, feeling oddly relieved as he takes the teapot between his hands and pours himself a cup. After smutting on the tea, hot in his hand, he shuffles in his seat before settling into a somewhat comfortable position. “I’d like to ask some questions about the case.”

“Of course.”

“Where were you at the time of the murder, sir?” He watches Sir Razz carefully to ensure he isn’t offended by the implications of the question. He really doesn’t want to get fired from this job. It’s undoubtedly the best one he’s ever had.

Sir Razz stirs his tea some more, the silver spoon tinkling against the cup, as he stares out the window thoughtfully. “In our bedroom. I was reading: I bought the latest Virginia Woolf the other day, it was published just last month. The Waves.”

“And when did you realize your husband was dead?” The question is blunt, but Sir Razz doesn’t as much as twitch. He meets Edge’s gaze without a hint of hesitation in his eyes.

“When Stretch told me. My husband usually worked late, so I never wondered if he didn’t come to bed until I was already asleep. So around… eleven PM, I believe, Stretch came rushing into my room, telling me that Doctor Gaster is dead. He had gone to check on him, as he always does before going to bed in the evenings and ensure my husband did not need anything beforehand. The Fontaines are something extra. None of my servants growing up were nearly as dutiful and loyal. Then again, they are so very British.”

Edge hums in acknowledgement. So Stretch had been the one to find the body. Interesting. He’ll have to talk with him about that later. “And how was your relationship with your husband, sir?” A risky question, but one that must be asked. Sir Razz raises his eyebrows.

“My husband was… something else,” he says vaguely, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. “I’m not going to deny we had our hardships, and it’s possible we got married too quickly. And admittedly, he had a sharp tongue, but so does my mother and I haven’t allowed that to bother me for years. But in general, it’s been safe and predictable. Wingdings did like routines quite a lot. He, too, was quite British.”

“Why did he come to America in the first place?” Edge can’t help but ask, curious. It seems odd for a nobleman to move to the only country he knows of that doesn’t have, or cares about, aristocracy.

This time, Sir Razz chuckles, and puts down his cup as it tinkled. “After the war, and after his doctorate, he decided he was tired of people valuing him for his heritage, and wanted them to care about his intellect instead – he was incredibly intelligent. His death is a huge loss for the scientific world. So he came to the United States instead, and bought Duskshire Manor.”

What a dream. Just leaving the place judging you for your birth to go live somewhere else. It is unfortunate Edge isn’t rich as hell and therefore can’t do that. “And no one else but you and your staff of three was around at the time of the murder,” he states, just to make sure.

Sir Razz nods. “Indeed. Which means one of us is the murderer and I truly can’t imagine anyone in my staff murdering my husband. They’re all incredibly loyal and kind people.”

“Just take a guess on who could’ve done it.”

After a few moments of looking thoughtful, Sir Razz sighs and leans back in the couch. “I’d say Stretch. Don’t tell Blue I said that, though, he’d be furious. And only because he was Stretch was the one who took the worse of Wingdings’ bad moods, and likely has since long before they came here to our country. Blue refuses to tell me, says it’s private, and I suppose I must respect that. Unfortunately.”

Well, Edge is happy to hear he isn’t the type to pry into his servants’ private life, at least. Nodding, he sweeps the contents of his cup and stands. “Thank you for your time, sir. I only need to speak to Papyrus now and then I have talked with everyone here, so if you’ll excuse me?”

“Of course.” Sir Razz gestures toward the door, before catching his gaze. His expression was unyielding. “And tell me the moment you figure something out, Detective. I don’t care if you have to wake me up in the middle of the night. Except if I’m in the bath, then send Blue to fetch me.”

“As you say, sir.” With a nod, Edge leaves the room behind, thoughts swirling inside his head. There was so much to figure out here. Whoever had committed the murder had basically committed the perfect crime. Almost. Because he knows he can solve it, and he will, and so, it’s not perfect.

…

Down the hallway, Mr Ashton sits in a dark red couch lining the wall, resting his head against the wall. His eyes are closed and his breathing even, so Edge lightens his steps as he walks past the other. Just as he passes by him, however, his eyes fly open and he straightens. Edge twitches in surprise, but turns around to nod. “Mr Ashton.”

The other stands up with one fluent movement, and grins, his gold tooth gleaming in the light from the lamps in the ceiling. In the back of his mind, the thought that the electricity bills can’t be cheap for the manor flashes by. ”Detective Serif,” Mr Ashton greets,, gesturing along the hallway. “Allow me to accompany you.”

“Of course, sir.” Surprised, Edge continues down the hallway, his footsteps joined by Mr Ashton’s.

They make their way the entire way downstairs, the other’s presence quiet and somewhat ominous, before Mr Ashton suddenly speaks up. “Have you solved many cases, Detective?”

The question is casual, but it’s obvious what he means. Can you be trusted? Edge can’t really say he doesn’t respect that. You didn’t trust just anyone if you had anything of worth in your skull. Smiling sharply at the other, Edge nods. His hands are clasped behind his back as they continue down yet another staircase, down on the ground floor. “I’d say I have, sir. Not quite anything of this calibre, but I have found missing people, and once two robbers, home in Deadford, as well as a couple minor crimes.”

Mr Ashton hums as they Edge leads them toward the entrance to the kitchen door. He holds his breath as it seems like the other is going to say something, but nothing. Well then. As much as he hates small-talk, sometimes it is necessary. “I heard you’ve been in Europe. How is the Old Continent?”

“It was a whoope,” Mr Ashton replies, smirking. A good time. Outside of the windows, clouds have rolled in again, painting the world grey once more. “Ever been?”

“No.” The word comes out short enough that the other raises an eyebrow, and Edge sighs as they reach the door leading to the basement. “Even before the economy crisis, I couldn’t have afforded even the ticket itself, much less the costs of living. Sir.”

“Ah, that’s a shame.”

“Indee-“ Just as he opens the door, a loud crash cuts him off, echoing through the tunnels beneath the manor. It’s immediately followed by a scream.

[captnbarnesrogers]

The Company Rules // Chapter One

Pairing/Character: Harry Styles x Reader, Angel Miles (OFC), Adrienne Johnson (OFC), Carlos Flint (OMC) Warnings:None, swearing Summary: It’s your first day on the job! Time to meet your first client. Word Count:1.3k+ A/N: Hope y’all like it! Give me some feedback if you wanna :)

PROLOGUE

You exited the dark, smelly subway, your purse in one hand and a cup of coffee for Carlos in the other. You complained endlessly about the heels you wore but you were lucky enough to know that the firm was only a few steps away. You took a big breath before stopping at the clear glass door of the law firm, holding your phone to your ear.

“You’re gonna be fine!” Adrienne reassures you, her voice warm and supportive even through the phone,

“But what if I screw up?”

“You worked there as an intern for a year, Y/N, you’re gonna do great!”

“Thanks, guys,” You sighed before opening the doors, “I gotta go, I’ll talk to you guys later.” You all exchanged your goodbyes, Adrienne and Angel wishing you good luck one more time, and you made you to the reception, greeting Nick, the receptionist,

“You’re back!” You nodded and laughed, bumping fists with him,

“I work here now.”

“You’re kidding!”

“I am not, you’re gonna be seeing me around a lot.” He winked at you and chuckled,

“Trust me, I don’t mind.”

“You never fail to make me laugh, Nicky,” You looked at the watch on your wrist and hissed, “I gotta go, you wanna meet for lunch?” Nick nodded and shooed you off.

You took the elevator up and waved to Nick. You pressed the number four and before you knew it, the doors had slid open and you were greeted by Carlos himself.

“Good to have you back. Y/N.” He smiled,

“I’m happy to be back, thank you so much for this Carlos,” You handed him the disposable cup, “and like always, a cap with two sugars.” He laughs and pats your back,

“You’re one of a kind, Y/N, we’re really happy to have you on board.” He clicks his fingers, remembering the real reason he asked you to be at work so early, “Your client will be here in half an hour so it’s best you get yourself ready, huh?” You nodded and you both began walking towards a room, empty from people, “The meeting will be held in here and,” Carlos leads you to the office next door, “this is your office.”

“Office? Already?” You entered the office, eye widened,

“I think you really deserve it, for the short time you’ve been with Barry & Flint you’ve made quite the change around here.” You couldn’t contain your excitement but didn’t know how to react professionally,

“Carlos, thank you so much!”

“It’s really no big deal,” You shook his hand, thanking him again, “well, I’ll leave you to it, I’ll let you get busy.” You nodded, and he lifted the cup to his lips, sipping the mixture of bitter and sweetness of the coffee, saluting goodbye. Half an hour flew by like the wind, you stood by the window, adoring the view of New York City when you heard three loud knocks on the door of the Meeting Room. Carlos stood in the doorway, a smile on his face.

“He’s here.” You smiled back and took a gulp from your water. You walked over to meet with the mystery man with the bottle in your hand. You unscrewed the cap and took another gulp, the man stuck out his hand to take your awaiting fingertips and shook them, “Mr. Styles, this is your Contract Lawyer, Y/N Y/L/N.” Mr. Styles? You looked up from his hand and your eyes widened, you felt the water stick down your throat, and before you could control yourself, you sprayed the water from your mouth onto his grey shirt and black skinny jeans, “Y/N!”

“Spitter, not exactly my first experience with you.” He mumbles only enough for you to hear. You look up at him with a smug grin upon his lips,

“I’m really sorry, Mr. Styles.” Carlos says, concern filling his tone,

“S’not a problem.” He chuckles,

“Carlos, I’ll take care of him.” You look at Carlos with an assuring look in your eyes, he nods and clenches his jaw, “Please come this way, Mr. Styles,” You gestured to the seat in front of you, “take a seat.”

“Thank you.” You sat down and gave him some files, sliding them across the table,

“Mr. Styles-”

“Harry.”

“What?” You clear your throat, your eyebrow raising in curiousness,

“Just call me Harry,” he leans forward, “you don’t have a problem with that, do you, pet?” Your posture straightens as your thighs clench at the pet name. You shrug off the comment and begin discussing the situation at hand,

“So, um, I’ll have to travel with you and check all of your contracts, if that’s alright with you? That’s obviously why I’m here.”

“Do wha’ you want, you’re really good at tha’.” You smile through a sigh and once again shrug off his sly remark. He pulls out the last sheet of paper in the manila folder,

“You need to sign that to confirm that you want to have us as your main defence company.”

“Do y’have a pen?” You nod and slide the black pen across to him. You hear the pen slide on the paper, your smile growing but you stop yourself, “I’m all yours.” You both hear a knock at the door, making you both stand up,

“Carlos.”

“Everything good in here?” Carlos asks, the furrowing of his brows indicating he had not forgotten what had happened before. He begins fastening the button on his suit and nods. Harry walks over to Carlos and shakes his hand,

“She’s quite the lawyer, m’happy to have you on board.” Carlos smiles widely and continues to shake his hand. Harry hands the manila folder to Carlos, patting his back, “Jus’ fax the copies to my agency, Y/N knows which one.” Carlos nods and Harry looks back at you, giving you a smirk before walking on and into the elevator to exit the building. You wait by the door and watch his body disappear,

“Whatever you did,” Carlos began, “keep it up.” He pats you on the back and walks back into his office, running his large, darkly tanned hands through his black slick hair,

“Thanks.” You whisper as he walks away. You enter the meeting room again to clean up, almost instantly noticing the iPhone left in the seat where he sat. You grabbed it out of the seat and began running to the elevator. You repeatedly (and roughly) pressed the elevator button, only hoping that it would open, to be disappointed that it hadn’t. You ran down the fire escape stairs and made it just in time to see him walk out of the glass doors, “Harry!” You call out. He turns around and enters the building, only for you to push him straight out again,

“Can’t stay away?”

“You left your phone.” You handed him the glass-screened device and stood there for a moment,

“So?” Before you could reply he had grabbed you and pushed you to the alleyway next to the firm,

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Uh… Occupational hazard.” You were confused and just ignored it, not wanting to get into a deep conversation,

“Harry, if I’m going to be your lawyer, you can’t tell anyone about what happened, and it cannot happen again, so quit with the sarcasm, okay?” He gently pushes you deeper into the alleyway, your back bumping into the wet wall at the end of it, he’s looking behind himself trying to rid himself from the sight of the paparazzi. You hadn’t realised how close the both of you were against each other until he turned to face you,

“Sorry, wha’ was tha’, love?”

“We, um, we can’t-” Your faces were almost touching, heat radiating from each other’s skin, his emerald green eyes dilating from lust, but you push yourself away from him, “Because of the company rules, you can’t tell anyone about what happened and it’s not happening again, is that clear?”

“Crystal.” You straighten your dress and begin walking backward from him,

“Have a nice day, Mr. Styles.” He nods and gestures appreciation for his phone. As you exit the alleyway, you take a deep breath of fresh air, your cheeks flushed from the moments before, “Oh, god.”

MASTERLIST

PERMANENT TAGLIST: @winchester-negan-one-shots @stevette60 @marvelous-fvcks @marvel-fanfiction @potterhead1265 @zoejohnson8 @frickin-bats @iamwarrenspeace @kenmen02 @captianwintersoldier @noelia8villa @bucky-bear-barnes @hollycornish@capsheadquaters @duncedgoofball @abouttimefortea@buchananbarnestrash @minervaem @barnes-heaven@buckyywiththegoodhair @mellifluous-melodramas @heartmade-writingbucky @hellomissmabel @justanotherbuckydevotee@alphaabucky @firebendergirl33 @naenae87 @sunnyfortomorrow@aya-fay @terraling @topthis808@savebxrnes @lediskogirl @mizzzpink @janellexox0 @potterhead1265 @lara-ludbey

THE COMPANY RULES TAGLIST: @whimsicalbarnes @thetrainwreckjournals

[kaitymccoy123]

Needing Eachother

I am on mobile right now but have had this queued up forever and just reread it and tgought it’d be nice to post for near Christmas time. Pure fluff. Can’t add a tag list sorry ppl. Also can’t add a cut thingy either. Sorry Enjoyenjoyenjoy Pairing: Scotty x reader

Word Count: some

-Enjoy!-

As soon as Scotty’s face filled the screen in front of you, you knew this wasn’t going to be a happy call.  

“Hey.” You said, trying your hardest to smile even though you felt like you were dying inside. 

“Hey there.” A flicker of a smile touched his lips, but there was not the usual jovial tone to his voice. 

“What’s wrong?” You asked, pressing your palms into the bedspread. 

“I was abou’ t'ask you the same thin’.” He exhaled. 

“What do you mean?”

“Love, why’re you crying?” His voice was soft and tender. 

“I’m not…” You touched your fingertips to your cheeks and were surprised to find tears there. 

Scotty clicked his tongue softly and you could hear him shuffle in his seat, “Wha’s the matter?  I hate seein’ you so sad.“ 

“I don’t know…” You drew your forearm under your dripping nose and pulled your knees to your chest, “I don’t know.”

Resting your chin on your folded knees you looked up at him through watery eyes.  His eyes were sad too, you realized and it only made you let out a little sob. 

“I just really miss you, I guess.” You sniffled, tearing your eyes away from his and resting the side of your head on your knees. 

“I miss you too, love." 

"I jus-I just could-could really use one-one of your hugs right now.” You gasped, and the mere thought of his arms wrapped around you sent you into a fit of sobs again. 

“Shh… Y/N, I know, and if I could I would be there in a second.”

“I know.” You looked at him again, “Where’s the teleporter machine you’ve been-been talking about?  I thought you were an engineer.” You joked, but it didn’t make him smile. 

“I think I’ve done well enough developing the transporter, thank you very much. Unfortunately I think it’s more of a time machine tha’ we need.”

You huffed a watery laugh and rubbed your face into your knees before leaning back and wiping at them with the back of your hand.  You sighed and reached out to touch your PADD screen. 

“How much longer until we are together again?” Your voice was barely a whisper. 

You desperately wished that it was your fingertips touching his cheek rather than the hard screen of the PADD. 

“3 months.” He sighed, and you saw tears well up in his eyes, “I wish I could come home now.  I jus’ want t'a hold ya again.  I hate-I hate sleeping alone.”

Now it was your turn to comfort him, “I do too, Monty.  But I’m sure you don’t miss my cold feet against your back all night.” You smiled. 

He huffed a laugh and wiped at his eyes, “I would take your ice-cubes that you call feet over sleepin’ alone on this bloody lonely planet any day.”

“Well I promise as soon as you get back that you can have as much of my cold feet as you want because it’s going to be days before we are going to leave this bed.” You bounced up and down slightly on the bed and were relieved to see a real smile pull at his mouth. 

“Sounds like a deal.”

You fell into a comfortable silence and you eventually felt the tight coil of missing him lessen a little, and your tears dried on your cheeks. 

“I love you, Monty.”

That made him smile and tilted his head as his whiskey-brown eyes met yours sweetly, “I love you too, Y/N.”

“And soon we will be together.” You said.  This was always your little routine before you hung up.

“Before ya know it.” Scotty responded as per your little imaginary script. 

You drew your finger one more time down his face on the screen before you brought the PADD closer to your face, pressing your forehead against it. 

Pulling back, you found tears perched on your eyelids again, “I need you, Montgomery Scott.  I need you I need you I need you." 

You repeated the words until you were nearly sobbing them, and you watched his face as it broke down with each repetition of the words. 

When you paused to take a shaky breath he interrupted, "Love, you wouldn’t even believe how much I need you too.”

You wiped at your eyes again and smiled, “I should go to bed.”

“Wish I was there." 

"I wish you were too.” You blew him a kiss before ending the call.  

You don’t know how long you sat there, hugging the PADD to your chest and sobbing, but eventually you fell asleep, cradling the device as if it were Scotty’s arm drawn around your chest.

Finally, it was time.  

As you stood at the landing dock, you bounced up and down on your toes, wearing a stupid smile on your face that had been there since yesterday.

He’s coming home today. He’s coming home today.  He’s coming home today.

“Are you excited or something?  I can’t tell.” You turned to Jim who stood beside you and punched him in the arm.

“It’s been 18 months since I’ve seen him, you asshat, I get to be excited.”

Jim chuckled, “But didn’t you see him a few months ago?”

“That was 6 months ago and only for 4 hours on one of his re-supply missions.” You snapped.

“Okay, okay, you get to be excited.” Jim smiled down at you and you turned your attention quickly back to the bustling shuttle bay.

Jim said they’d landed already, but you didn’t know which ship it was or if they had even gotten off yet.  The suspense was killing you.

You waited in silence next to Jim, your eyes constantly scanning each ship, each person that had redish-brown hair, each red shirt, hoping it was him.

“You’re gonna give yourself an aneurysm.” Jim teased.

“Shut up.”

There.  Your eyes caught on someone. Nope.

Ooo, over there.

Nope.

You were beginning to get frustrated when you saw another head of reddish-brown hair.  Coupled by a red shirt.  And that scarf.  You had given him that scarf.

Your heart soared.

Monty.

Your legs nearly gave out before you commanded them to surge forward, and they somehow carried you into the busy shuttle bay. Squeezing past person after person, you felt the cool air hit your cheeks and realized you were crying. Your legs were flying under you, faster than you had ever run before, and your heart was hammering in your chest.

As you neared him, you realized that he hadn’t seen you yet, and he seemed to be scanning the crowds as well.  Looking for you.

“MONTY!” You yelled, and his head snapped in your direction.

You had no idea how you remained standing when his eyes met yours.  There he was. Flesh and blood and oh-so-familiar. Something between a screech and a shout of laughter left your lips and you started running again.  

Scotty’s smile was unbelievably wide as he dropped his bag and spread his arms.  You nearly leaped into them as you finally closed the last few feet.  

“Monty!” You called again as he wrapped his arms around you tight, tighter than ever, and still you couldn’t get enough.

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N.” Scotty chanted, and that’s when you realized that he was crying too.  

You felt him press hard kisses to the side of your neck, working his way up to your jaw and eventually across your cheek, and when you couldn’t take it anymore, you turned your head and captured his lips in yours.

It was a desperate kiss, dry and harsh, a kiss that means ‘I haven’t seen you in forever’, ‘I miss you so much’, ‘I just want to feel your lips on mine’.  But eventually it melted into softer kisses, gentle ‘I love you’ kisses and you found yourself giggling despite the tears still running down your cheeks.

Eventually, you pulled your head away, resting your foreheads together, the rest of your body pressed tightly to his.  

“Monty.” You breathed, more tears (happy ones, you realized now) tracked down your cheeks.

“Y/N.” He laughed, and the smile on his face and the admiration in his eyes melted your heart.

“Do you even know how much I missed you?” You teased, brushing his hair over his ears.

“If it’s even half as much as I’ve missed you, then it’s a hell u’va lot.” He kissed the smile off your face.

Breaking off the kiss, you buried your face in his neck and inhaled the familiar scent o him, and you felt his hands squeeze your waist softly.

“Nice to have you back, Mr. Scott.” Jim’s voice broke through your little bubble of Scotty and you drew back to Scotty’s side, slinging your arms around his waist and pressing your cheek into his shoulder.

“Nice to be back, Cap’n.” Scotty pressed a kiss to the top of your head, and the arm that he had around you drew soft lines up and down your back.

“I was about to send this one to the medbay ‘cause I thought she was gonna faint while we waited for you.” Jim teased and you stuck your tongue out at him.

“And I can send you to the medbay for a black eye if you want one, Jimbo.” You joked, and Scotty laughed heartily next to you and pulled you closer.

“Alright, alright, my duty here is done, you two lovebirds go do whatever you lovebirds want to do, I’ll see you back on the ship.” Jim saluted before he retreated back into the busy crowds.

Scotty swung you around so you were in front of him again, encircling his arms around your waist.

“Now, lass, I would love a long hot shower – with or without you honestly I just need one at this point – a good hot meal, and to spend the rest of the day in bed with you in my arms.”

Your heart surged with happiness and you dove up to kiss him quickly, “Sounds like a plan to me.”

Scotty smiled and kissed your forehead quickly before scooping up his bag and slung it over his shoulder.   You arms still slung around the other’s waists, you and Scotty started towards the exit ready to spend the next little while in each other’s arms.

-Thanks for reading!  I hope you liked it!-

[lovethyfanperson]

Morris Delancey x Reader: A New Beginning

Words: 6,174

Request: NOPE! This was 100% my idea :D

Plot: Morris Delencey wants to go on a date with Y/N… when she finally agrees, can she deal with the consequences.

Characters: Morris Delancey, Reader, Race, Jack, Crutchie, ext.

A/N: THIS IS SHIT OMG. I rushed the ending, everyone is OOC, I’m pretty sure I didn’t keep the bunking consistent. But I hope you enjoy it anyways...

Warnings: Foul language, OOC characters, asshole Oscar, shit ending

@girlslikefoodandwifi

“Agh! Jack!” You wailed as your good friend, and leader Jack Kelly tugged a comb harshly through your greasy hair. “Yous can be gentle, yah know?”

“And yous can take better care of yah hair, babycakes.” He teases you lightly, tugging the brush once again. You wince. “When was tha last time yous took a showah?”

“If I could rememba, I would tells yah.” You groan in agony. You catch Crutchie’s eyes, finding him laughing at you and Jack. “What ‘re yous laughin’ at, huh? I gots somethin’ on my face?”

“Just beauty.” Romeo says as he passes you by. You start to stand, wanting to smack the flirt upside the head, but Jack brings you back down so he can finish doing your hair. You attempt sit calmly while he finishes, using a thick red ribbon the boys had managed to find for your birthday a couple weeks back to tie it up.

“Now you,” He waggles a finger at you as you stand. “Yous is gonna showah tonight. I’ll get all the boys ta stay outta the restroom so yous can have some privacy.”

“Well, well, being tha only goirl does have it’s perks.” Crutchie piped up. You shot him a playful glare.

“Yous lucky you got a bum leg Crutch, or I’da shoved you ovah by now.” You bump shoulders gently with your selling partner before he lifts his crutch up off the ground to hit your leg.

“Yous lucky you’re a goirl. Else I wouldda roughed you up by now.”

“Yous sayin’ I can't handle myself because I’m a female?” You watched Crutchie’s face glow a light shade of pink before he let out a genuine laugh.

“No, no, not at all (F/N), just sayin’ I don't feel too comfortable hittin’ any goirls is all.” He flashes a kind smile that’s much softer than the one he uses to sell the papers. You lean forward and press a soft kiss to his cheek.

“You smile at any goirl like that, and she might buy all our papes.” You tease him, causing Crutchie to let out another laugh. As Jack passes you by he pecks your cheek. You’d become accustomed to all the affection from and to the boys, that kisses on the cheek hardly meant anything nowadays (unless it was the flirts of the group).

“I’ll see yous two in a bit. I gots somethin’ I need ta do before work.” He began heading towards the door.

“Don't yah go gettin’ in ta any fights Kelly. If I see even a bruise, I’ll beat yah ass.” You puff out your chest to seem tougher, and Jack rolled his eyes in amusement.

“Yes, ma.” He saluted you playfully before exiting the Lodge. You turn back to Crutchie and he offers you an arm.

“Ma’am, I believe it is time ta go and get us some papes.” You loop your arm through his and he pulls you to his side.

“Yes, I believe it is.” The two of you grin at each other before exiting the Lodge arm-in-arm.

---

“Ah shit.” You mutter under your breath. Crutchie looks at you concerned. You two were almost to the front of the line to get your papers.

“What is it (F/N)? Yous forgot yer money?” He panicked shortly. You shook your head. You’d brought enough for papers, and a little extra in hopes one of the boys would split a loaf of bread with you.

Your problem was that, of all days, today was Morris Delancey’s day to take the money. Usually Morris and his brother Oscar were the ones handing papers to the newsies. Morris would cut the stacks open and Oscar would hand the papers to the newsies. You had very little interaction with Morris most days, but every once in a blue moon the two and their uncle would switch jobs. And Morris was the biggest flirt you had ever met.

“Nah, Crutch. I’m fantastic. Just forget I said anythin’.” As Race passes you by, he hands you a cigar with a wink. He knows you’ll be needing it later.

“Don’t listen’ ta ‘im, yous got that?” He asks. You agree silently, placing the cigar between your teeth. Anywhere else, and you might forget where you put it. You had a slight habit of losing your smokes in pockets. Standing there bouncing, you can practically see things click into place inside Crutchie’s head, but before he can say anything it's his turn to pay the devil.

“Come on Crip, yer holdin’ up the line.” Morris sneers. Crutchie sends you an apologetic look before handing Morris the money and getting his papers from Weasel. Morris catches your eyes and his sneer turns into a smirk. Romeo grabs your upper arm from behind you.

“I can get yer papes for you, babydoll.” He offered protectively. You were the one and only “girlsies” in Manhattan as they called you, and the boys typically got protective over you. Over in Brooklyn it was a whole mix of boys and girls - but girls over in your area all decided to sell flowers rather than papers.

“I can take care of myself, Romeo. Thanks for tha offa though.” You two share a smile, but inside you were tempted to take his offer. You take in a deep breath and stride up to Morris and his tin box.

“Well, well, if it ain’t Manhattan's only Girlsie. How are you this morning Miss (l/n)?” He leaned subtly against the table, and you roll your eyes.

“Morris,” You greet him shortly. He lets out a low whistle as you take a few coins out of your pocket.

“Awe come on, are yous ignorin’ my question doll?”

“Don't call me that.” You frown. You think he reaches for the money in your hand, but instead find him holding your wrist. He stands, leaning over the table.

“Come on, smile doll. Yous got a pretty smile.” He flirts. You're tempted to spit in his face, but as you meet his eyes your breath catches in your throat. You’d never bothered to properly look at his eyes, but being so close you had no choice. You had to admit reluctantly to yourself that they were very pretty. “That a new ribbon?”

“Leave ‘er alone, Delancy.” Romeo placed a hand on your shoulder.

“We was just havin’ a conversation.” Morris hissed at your friend. You look down, realising he was still holding your wrist. “Weren’t we doll?”

“Let ‘er go, Morris.” Crutchie piped in. You had yet to try pulling away from him, but as soon as he released your wrist you were pulled back by Romeo.

“Show a lil respect ta da lady, Delancey. We’s wouldn’t wanna hafta rough you up in frontta ‘er.”

“Romeo!” You snap. The boys all stop what they’re doing. “I’s can take care of myself.” You grumble, pushing back to stand in front of Morris. You shove the coins into his hand with a glare. “I can handle a coupla flirts.” You’re quick to get your papers before any of them can say a word. Crutchie rushes to catch up with your retreating form.

“Hey, hey,” You don’t stop until Crutchie grabs your arm. “Hey, (F/N). Don’t let ‘em gets ta yah, okay? Morris’ just bein’ an idiot.”

“But does he hafta flirt every time he sees me?”

“Well (F/N), just give us tha word, we’ll teach ‘im a lesson or two.”

“Thanks, Crutch.”

“It’s nothin’, (F/N).”

---

You and Crutchie found yourselves with a single newspaper left to sell and, much worse, no one willing to buy it. Everyone who passed you by ignored you or declined your offer (quite rudely, you might say). You were prepared for desperate measures.

“Hold this for me, would yah?” You pass the paper back to Crutchie, who gives you a look of confusion in return. You take the top button of your top and pop it open, followed by another.

“Whoa, whoa, no.” Crutchie shoves the paper in front of your chest to block any view. “What do yous think you’re doin’, (F/N)?!”

“I think I’m selling our last pape Crutch.” You tell him, attempting to fix your shirt in a way that would make your breasts stand out. “If I can catch some old pre-verts eyes and sell him tha pape, yous and I gets ta meet up with Race and Romeo for some grub.”

“You ain’t catching no pre-verts eyes.” He reaches forward to yank yours hands away from your shirt and you two struggle momentarily before he manages to re-button your shirt. “Yous is a lady (F/N), not just a pair ‘a walkin’ breasts. We can find another way ta sell tha pape.”

“Crutch-” You start, only to be cut off by a new arrival.

“You twos havin’ a bitta trouble there?” You groan internally, turning to face the ever growing annoyance in your life. Morris stood leaning against a nearby wall, a lit cigarette pressed between his lips.

“What’s it ta yah, huh?” Crutchie asked, moving to stand between the two of you.

“Well, I was just gonna be nice and help you suckers out.” Morris pushed himself away from the wall as you and Crutchie scoffed in unison. Who the hell did Morris think he was?

“We don't need yer charity Morris. Crutch and I do this for a livin’.” Ignoring your words, Morris snatches the paper from your friend’s hands.

“Hey, give that back you scum!” Crutchie reaches for it, but Morris holds it high above his head. You're in such shock that Morris’ next words don't reach your ears, but the next thing you know the paper’s gone and Morris is waving a dime in your face. Crutchie stands beside him, face red with exhaustion and annoyance.

“Don't say I never did nothin’ for yah,” You reach out to take the coin, but Morris pulls back with a smirk. “Ah, ah, ah, not so fast.”

“What tha hell do you want Delancey?” You spat out. Morris turns the coin in his hand a couple of times.

“Well (F/N), as you know, yous are a very attractive young lady,” You thank the lord in that moment for the heat that had already turned your cheeks red. “I was thinkin’ you might let me take yah out this Friday. After you've sold your papes, of course.”

“In your dreams Delancey. (F/N) would never be caught dead spendin’ quality time with tha likes of you.” Crutchie attempts to snatch the coin away, only to have Morris pull back his arm, holding the coin up as high as he’d held the paper. You were starting to snap.

“You shut yer mouth you dumb cri-”

“Stop it!” If you’d been made of glass, the boys would’ve been able to see the cracks crawling across your skin. “Just stop it, both of you.” You step between them, and look Morris in the eye. “Look, Delancey,” You sigh. “All kiddin’ aside, I’m sure there’s some good in yous.” You turn back to Crutchie before continuing. “But I’m a newsie.” As you continue, the boys stand there awkwardly avoiding eye contact with each other. “You and yer brother beat us, and talk down ta us, and spit on us.” You reach for tha coin, surprised by how easy he was to give it away. “And no amount of kindness can fix tha damage you’ve already done.”

---

You lie awake that night, turning a dime in your hand. The same dime Morris freaking Delancey had gotten selling your paper. You bit on the end your last, unlit cigar nervously, but quickly put it away when you saw Crutchie heading your way. You could tell by the look on his face that he knew what you were thinking about.

“You wouldn’t really go on a date with a Delancey brotha, would you (F/N)?” Straight to the point. You liked that about Crutchie - usually. But in the heat of the moment, all you wanted to do was curl up and disappear.

“‘Course not.” You lie. You’d been thinking about Morris’ offer all afternoon. The look of defeat he’d had on his face before stalking away from you and Crutchie had stung more than you thought it would. You almost feel bad for him. And you’d be lying if you said he wasn’t attractive. Attractive and rude. “I’d go on a date with Romeo before I went on a date with Morris Delancey.”

“Is that an offer babydoll?” Romeo called from the other side of the room.

“‘Course that’s all yous would hear. Asleep for tha real conversation, awake for tha sarcasm.” Race teased him from his spot on the top bunk.

“She didn’t say no, did she?” Romeo argues, sending you a wink.

“Does she get a say?” You ask, trying your hardest to fight a smile, but your teeth are quick to make an appearance. Race and Romeo could always make you smile with their pointless banter, no matter your mood

“No.” Romeo says, only to be smacked moments later with a sheet-thin pillow.

“Yes.” Race corrects him.

“(F/N),” Crutchie steals back your attention from the other two. “Yous been acting strange eva since we’s was confronted. What’re you-”

“Crutch,” You cut him off. “If you want me ta be honest with yah, yes, I was thinkin’ about his offa.” Crutie opened his mouth, you you held your hand up to get him to stop. “I was just thinkin’ about how pathetic he looked when I turned him down. And I know he’s always beatin’ on you and tha otha boys. But I just feel a little bad, you get me?”

“I gots yah. But (F/N), tha Delancey brothas are bad news. Try not tah make any rash decisions, okay?”

“I got it, Crutch. No rash decisions.”

---

“You sure yous gonna be good out there all on yer own, (F/N)?” Jack asked, sounding unconvinced. You roll your eyes and fix the cap on the top of your head. Crutchie’s leg was giving him too much trouble, so he was (reluctantly) taking the day off. Which meant you’d be selling alone. Jack had offered to go with you, but you knew that would leave Specs all on his own. And everyone knew how Specs got lazy when he was alone. It would take him all damn day just to sell five papers.

“I’m positive Jackie. I’m a big girl, I can takes care of myself.” You nudged his arm. “Nice ta know yous is worried about little ol’ me though.”

“I’m always worried about you babycakes. Yous is my sista.” He pulled you into his side, and pressed a kiss to your temple. Race waltzes over and repeats Jack’s action on the other side of your head, having been listening to your conversation from where he and Romeo stood

“Yeah, so don’t go gettin’ in any kinda trouble, (F/N).”

“We’s don’t wanna hafta beat anyone up any time soon cuz they were messin’ with our goirl.” Romeo added. You punch him lightly in the arm.

“Now boys, would I eva do that?” You grin at them. “But in all seriousness guys, I’s can handle myself. We still meetin’ for lunch, Race?”

“Course we is.” He discreetly passed you a cigar. You raise an eyebrow at him. “I gots it off’a mean ol’ Weasel.” You don’t hesitate to place it between your teeth. “Sucka left his box of ‘em out on tha counter. Swiped a couple when he wasn’t looking.” He put what you assumed was the other one between his teeth. You sigh happily.

“Thank god for ignorant people.”

---

“Extra, extra, large explosion in tha Bronx leaves people injured!” It wasn’t technically a lie. There was an explosion. And there was people “injured”. But no one had to know that the explosion was toilet water, and the injuries were to the Bronx Newsie’s egos. The story had been floating around all week and there was no way anyone would let them live it down. The paper was snatched from your hand in a hurry, replaced with stray pennies that you fumbled to put in your pockets.

“That tha best yous got today, (F/N)?” You groan, turning to face Morris with a glare. You barely register that Oscar’s with him before you open your mouth to speak.

“What is it now, Morris?” You ask him, taking another paper out of your bag.

“Well doll, I wanted ta know if you’d rethink my offa.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, swaying back and forth on his feet. Oscar scoffed from behind him, and muttered an incoherent sentence that caused Morris to elbow him. “I’d really like ta take yah out.”

“You asked me that a month ago Delancey. Haven’t you found another goirl ta botha?” You turn around, greeted by the familiar face of Mr. Falcone, one of your’s and Crutchie’s regulars. He hands you a dime and you pass him his paper. “See you tomorrow.” He nods before walking away.

“I don’t wanna botha any other goirls.” Morris told you once he regained your attention.

“You make me sick.” Oscar piped in, earning a harsh glare from his brother.

“Is there any way I could possibly make you reconsida?” He leans against the nearby wall, a hopeful look in his eye. You bite your lip, trying to avoid Oscar’s glares from beside Morris. The truth was, you had been thinking over the offer. But by the time you’d come to a conclusion, you figured he’d already moved on to some other pair of legs. But the smirking man in front of you said otherwise.

“I’ll tell you what, Morris.” You pulled another paper from your bag and squeezed it tightly. You almost wished Crutchie was with you - or that you had accepted Jack’s help. If either of them were with you, you wouldn’t even consider making a deal. You almost don’t continue.

“I’m listening.” He eggs you on.

“I’ll go on that outtin’ with you.” You’re surprised by the way his eyes light up. “If!” You don’t see any faltering in his expression, almost as if he was expecting a compromise. “Yous and yer brotha stop beatin’ on tha boys.”

“That’s-”

“Deal.” Morris agrees. You stand there with your jaw hanging, and from the look on his stupid face Oscar is shocked as well.

“Morris-”

“We’s can talk about it late’a, Oscar.” Morris cuts his brother off again. He turns back to you with what appears to be a genuine smile. “So, when yah free? This Friday sound good ta yous?”

“Only if you can keep yer side’a tha deal, Morris.” You grumble. How the hell were you supposed to tell the boys?

---

“So, Crutch, rememba how yous told me not ta do tha… thing?” Crutchie looked up from the newspaper in his hand, the only one Albert hadn’t been able to sell. Of course he knew exactly what you were talking about. It was all the boys would talk about for the past month. No one would let you live it down - asked out be a Delancey.

“What about it?” He set the paper down cautiously. You clutched your sheet-thin pillow to your chest, light you might float away if you let go.

“I might have, uh. Done tha thing.” Telling him went about as well as you thought it would. He was at your side in an instant, regardless of the pain his leg was giving him. He clutched your shoulders tightly, crutch left forgotten on the floor having reached you.

“Are you insane (F/N)?!” He squealed, shaking you and catching the attention of the other boys in the room.

“I thought we already established we’re all crazy in ‘ere.” Specs said, shuffling a deck of cards you’d assume he had stolen. “What so special about ‘er?”

“She did tha thing!” In seconds, the room was in an uproar. Race had his warm hand pressed against your forehead.

“Is she sick?!” You shove him away, shifting uncomfortably under the stares of the other Newsies. “What were yah thinkin’?!”

“Race, please, I can-”

“Hey! Why’s everyone crowndin’ (F/N)?!” Jack demanded as he entered the room, pushing past the others to get to you. You open your mouth to tell him yourself, but Race beats you to it.

“She did tha thing!”

“You did tha thing?!” The change in expression was split second, and Jack was holding you by the upper arms. “What were yah thinkin’?!”

“That what I asked!” Race exclaimed. The room went into an uproar, everyone’s shouts being drowned out by another until you couldn’t take it anymore.

“STOP IT!” Jack jumped back with wide eyes, and everyone quieted down. Eyes were on you, looking for some sort of explanation for your actions. “I… I made a deal with Morris.”

“That’s like makin’ a deal with tha devil, (F/N).” Romeo shouted, shoving himself between Albert and Specs. Both boys adjusted in their crowded spots uncomfortably to accommodate him, and you pushed yourself towards the wall.

“I told him I’d go on an outing with him if he and his brotha’d leave yous guys alone.” You shrugged, shrinking further into yourself. “And he agreed.”

“He’s a lia’, there’s no way Morris Delancey’s gonna stop beatin’ on us Newsies.” Race grumbled, dropping onto the bed next to you and slung an arm around your shoulders.

“Well, our outting’s not till Friday,” You shrugged, pressing yourself into your friend’s side. “So I guess we’s ‘ll just hafta wait and see.”

---

“Papes for the newsies!” Like clockwork, Weasel announced the arrival of the papers. “Line up!” You ran through the gates, stopping yourself moments before you can crash into Finch, breathing hard. He had turned around at the sound of your feet slapping against the pavement.

“(F/N), whys you late? Yous get lost or somethin’?” He teases you.. “Anyone givin’ yous trouble?” You roll your eyes. He knew full well you could take care of yourself. They all did.

“If they were, I’s could handle myself Finch. Don't worry yer pretty little head about it.” You two jab at each other with your elbows. “So. Which Delancey saved me from a wasted Friday afternoon?” You smirk, crossing your arms. Finch purses his lips, and your heart drops.

“Neither.” Finch shrugged. “They’s been actin’ all nice and stuff. But it won't last long. You’ll be saved by tha end of tha day.” He tossed an arm around your shoulder and grinned. “Promise.”

“I know. Just wish they would get it over with.” You roll your eyes. “There’s no way tha Delancey family can be any bit nice ta people like us.” Finch hums in agreement

“Preach it sista.”

“What is we preachin’ ova here?” Suddenly there’s another arm slung around your shoulders, and Race is puffing smoke in your face. You steal the cigar from his mouth and tuck it between your teeth. You look his over, and take note of the bag slung over his shoulders. He'd already gotten his papers.”

“Just tha obvious.” Finch replied, laughing as you return a puff of smoke to your best friend’s face. Race scrunches up his nose and takes his cigar back.

“There's a lotta obvious stuff out there, Finch-y.” Race argues, pushing him off of you so he can pull you into his side. “How many papes you gonna get today, (F/N)?”

“Well, since Crutchie’s selling with Buttons today, probably fifty.” You stretch your neck out to see where your usual selling partner was, and caught sight of him near the front with Jack. “I’s can usually sell around ninety when I’s got Crutch with me. People pay more attention ta men these days. But I’s by myself again.”

“I’s can sell with yous today, if you’d like.” Race offered with a grin, blowing smoke above their heads. “Romeo can handle ‘imself for a day.” You pat his chest a couple of times, and shake your head.

“And so can I.” You tell him. You steal another puff from his cigar. “You worry about you.”

“Always.” Race takes his cigar back. “You sure you’s is okay sellin’ alone again?” He glares towards the front of the line. “You ain't gonna agree ta any more outin’s?” You shove him and scoff.

“Yeah right. I’s made a deal, Racetrack. And in no time, I won’t ‘ave any plans for Friday.” Race laughs, and rubs your hat into your hair. “Don't leave Romeo waitin’.”

“Eh, tha little shit deserves it.” Race puts out his cigar, and gives you a quick, strong side hug. “See you’s afta work.” He begins walking away, waving goodbye as he went.

Finch tossed his arm back around your shoulders, and you two made small talk as you approached the window.

Your face paled slightly when you saw that Morris was, yet again, at the window taking cash.

“You need me-”

“If one more of you’s ask ta buy my papes for me, I’ll soak yah.” You say, not daring to look at your friend.

“Next!” finch went on before you, getting a hundred papers for himself. He shot you a look as he passed you by. “Next!” You approached the window, and your heart sped up as Morris gave you a genuinely happy smile. “Good mornin’ ta you, (F/N).” He leaned against the counter. “How many ’ll it be today?” You found yourself dazed by his toothy grin. Was he always so handsome?

“Eighty.” You stutter, but your eyes widen. “I-I mean fifty.” He raisen an eyebrow as if asking if you were sure. You slap a quarter down onto the counter.

“Alrighty. Fifty papes for the lovely lady.” He turns to Oscar, who collects fifty papers and hands them to you with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. You swear Morris kicks him behind the counter. “Until tomorrow, (F/N).” You nod shortly, and speed away.

---

The rest of the week was just like this. Morris would greet you kindly, either Oscar or Weasel would hand you your papers, and none of the other newsies complained about the Delancey’s being mean to them. In fact, they all gossiped about them being nice. Some even went as far as to tease you about your outing with Morris.

You told yourself again and again that it wasn’t going to happen. You told yourself that, eventually, one of the Delancey’s would slip up and you would be free. This hope all went away on thursday, when you went to Jacobi’s with Buttons and Snipeshooter. You three had agreed on sharing a bowl of soup, which Button dropped on his way back to the table - all over Oscar, who had just entered the building.

He was fuming, red in the face, but he smiled with his teeth and excused himself.

You’re sitting on your bed that night, getting ready for lights-out when reality sets in.

“They’s actually trying.” Albert looks at you from his bed.

“What?” You turn to him.

“The Delancey’s.” You smooth out your night-gown. “They… They’s actually tryin’ ta be nice.”

“I know! It’s surprising!” Specs calls from above you, hanging his head down. “Morris must really like you’s.” He teases. You slap him in the face with your pillow.

“Shuddup, he’s just’a flirt.” You grumble, laying down with a huff.

“I’s don’t think’a flirt would go through this much trouble for just one goirl.” Albert shrugged. “I mean, have you’s seen Race?”

“I ‘eard that!” Race pouts.

“We all did, get over it!” Blink shouts back. You sigh, snuggling further into your lumpy mattress.

“So… You ready for yer outing tomorrow, (F/N)?” Albert asks softly. You close your eyes and take in a deep breath, unsure how to answer at first.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

---

The day had gone same as the rest - the Delanceys were overly nice. With Crutchie back, papers sold quickly, the day went by faster. And now it was time to get ready for your outing, and you were taking forever. You don’t remember the last time you’d taken a half-hour to pick out a shirt.

And now, having gotten dressed, you were seated on the floor in front of Blink’s bed while he did your hair all fancy-like. You asked him once how he knew to do hair, but he winked (blinked?) at you and said it was a secret. He pulled a comb through your hair - the same one Jack had pulled through your hair the day Morris asked you out the first time. Then, he’s pulling and tugging, turning your usual pigsty hair into a fancy little braid.

“Hand me tha ribbon?” You do as told, and Blink uses it to finish off your braid. You sit there for a few silent moments, jumping when Blink places a hand on your shoulder. “You’s sure yah want ta do this, (F/N)?” He asks. “You’s still got tha choice to back out.”

“No.” You state firmly, straightening up as you did. “Morris… kept his side’a tha deal. And I’m goin’ to keep mine.” You stand up, smoothing out your pale pink skirt. “Well… How does I look?” You give him a twirl.

“Well, yah don’t look like yourself.” He says honestly. “But you’s don’t look bad. Yah look pretty.”

“Well, would you get a look at ‘er!” Jack exclaims as he enters the room. “Who knew she could look so lady-like!” He teased you, taking your hand so he could twirl you. You smack his chest, glaring at him playfully.

“Awe, shut yer mouth, Kelly.” You giggle as he kisses your temple. “So…” You bite your lip. “He here?” Jack pouts.

“Dunno. Don’t care.” He shrugs. “Morris’ an idiot, he don’t deserve’a date with you.”

“But I-” You start, but Jack waves you off.

“I know, I know. You made’a deal. A stupid deal, might I add.” Jack fell back onto your bed, and you roll your eyes.

“He kept his end’a tha bargain, didn’t he?” Jack had nothing to say to this. “So,” You smack his knee. “I gotta keep my end as well, ‘else I ain’t no betta than them.” Crutchie ends the room with a frown, and you let out a sigh of disappointment. “He here?”

“Yea. He’s here.” Crutchie grumbled, going directly to his bed.

“Well boys,” You flatten out your skirt again. “Wish me luck.”

---

Your breath hitched in your throat when you exited the lodging house. Morris stood at the bottom of the steps, shuffling his feet awkwardly while he waited. He had on a nice, clean pair of slacks, a white button-up, and his usual suspenders. He was missing his tie, and his hat as well. He didn’t look anything like himself… He looked like any other guy on the street.

He looked cute.

You shake the thought away, making your way down the steps. At the sound of you approaching, he straightened up and turned to face you completely. You saw his face turn a light shade of pink, to which your heart skipped a beat. Why the hell was he blushing?

“W-wow.” He stuttered. You met him at the bottom step, and were taken aback when he kissed your knuckles. “You look… You look…”

“I look what, Morris?” You grumbled, trying to shake off the idea of wiping the back of your hand on your skirt.

“You look even more beautiful than you usually do.” Morris smiles softly, and you feel yourself begin to melt. Quickly, you remind yourself that this is the same man who threatened all your friends on a daily basis. Even with this thought in mind, you found yourself checking him out.

“You…” You bite your lip, hoping none of the boys were listening to the two of you from inside. “Don’t look too bad yourself, Delancey.” His smile grew, and he offered you his arm.

“Shall we?” You took in a deep breath, and looped your arm through his.

“We shall.”

---

The night turned out way different than you had expected it to. Morris’ idea of an outing consisted of grabbing a loaf of bread (which he paid for in full) from the best bakery in Manhattan, and taking a walk while eating. His idea, while odd, was quite calming. It took him a while to coax you into talking, but once you started a conversation with him you couldn’t stop. You didn’t realize you had so much to tell him until you opened your mouth.

That night, you found yourself laying in a patch of grass beside someone you never thought you would be interested in in a million years. Yet every time he laugh, every time he smiles, you wanted him to do it again.

This night was turning out very different from what you had expected.

You and Morris lay silently in the grass, taking in the view of the setting sun. You glance over at Morris, who had his hands folded behind his head, using them as a pillow.

“Hey Morris?” You’re the one to break the ongoing silence. He rolls his head to the side, giving you that charming smile.

“Yea?”

“Why?” His smile falters, and you can tell that he’s confused.

“Why what?” He rolls onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow.

“Why do you’s hate us?” You can’t stop yourself from saying it. You had to know. Morris’ smile disappears, but he doesn’t look mad. He looks disapointed.

“I… I really don’t know.” You’re surprised by how genuinely confused he sounds. “I guess it’s… It’s because of our uncle.” He scoffs, rolling his eyes. You stare at him intently - it’s the first time you’d heard one of the Delancey’s talk bad about one of their own. “You see, after he took us in he, uh, taught us who was ‘bad’, an’ who was ‘good’, an’ how we should treat ‘em.” He laughed dryly. “Anyone who was poorer than us was ‘bad’, anyone richer was ‘good’, and if they were poor…” Morris shook his head. “Sorry it’s… It’s really complicated.” He looks at you, eyes sad. “Just… I just want you to know, if this… you an’ me… it don’t work out,” He sits up more, fixing his hair feverishly. “I want you to know that I’m sorry. For tha way we treat you. You’s guys don’t deserve it. And you were right, before.”

“Morris-”

“No ammount’a good can fix what we’s done.” He takes your hand in his. “And I ain’t gonna ask you to forgive me…” He closed his eyes with a sigh, squeezing your hand gently. You unconsciously squeeze back. “An’ I’m almost afraid to ask you... for a second chance?” Silence. You don’t know what to say. Did he just… pour his heart out to you?

You reach your hand up to gently touch his face, and you don’t miss the shudder that racks Morris’ frame gently. He’s scared.

“Look at me.” You murmur. “Please… let me see your eyes.” Your heart leaps out of your chest when he does just that. It was almost as if he was staring into your soul, mesmerising you with his eyes. “It’s going to take some time.” You whisper. “And you’ll ‘ve to convince tha others… But… I don’t see why not.” Almost as soon as the words were out of your mouth, Morris pulled you into a bone-crushing hug. You laid there, shocked.

“Thank you, thank you.” He murmured into your hair. He pulls away, and you share a genuine smile with your brand new… friend? You two stare at eachother for the longest while, so you don’t miss the moment his eyes trail down to your lips. “Can I…”

“Yes.” You say without a moment's hesitation. The kiss is surprisingly slow and sweet, the exact opposite of what you would have expected two hours previously. Morris hovered over you, placing his hands gently on your face.

Nothing more escalated that night. Your sweet kiss was as far as you two got. He walked you back to the lodging house, his fingers entangled in yours - and this was the start of a new, beautiful friendship.

---

As you guessed, it took a long time to get the boys to trust Morris. A lot of sacrifices were made - good time, good money out the door. But Morris was determined to redeem himself. The hardest part of it all was the day Morris was kicked out by his family - tossed aside by his brother. He came to the lodging house, looking broken and betrayed. You begged Jack to let him stay.

That was how Morris Delancey became Mike.

Mike slept four bunks away from you.

Mike was one of the nicest newsies you had ever met.

Mike often had nightmares.

And when the strike came along, Mike fought alongside the newsies. He stood his ground against the men he used to refer to as family. He protected you during the riots, he stayed by your side.

He loved you.

And you loved him.

[impalaanddemons]

Gravity - Part 2

Summary: Reader’s a young security officer (Lieutanent Junior Grade) who happened to be on an away mission and fall hard for a certain Chief Engineer. Both of them aren’t the most outgoing regarding their feelings and tend to just watch each other from a distance, which is going to change.

Wordcount: 1722

A/N: We’re going on a quick trip down memory lane how they both first met. As before: Please leave me feedback. Tell me what you loved, tell me what you hated. I’m going slow on actually writing the scottish accent, but i’m working on it. Putting this up early, Part 3 will have to wait until next week :)

This fiction is set in AOS

Warnings: Some violence against reader, injury on reader, and oh the fluffiness

PART 1 PART 2

„What was that?“ Kirk raised an eyebrow. „What was what?“ Scottys eyes flickered to his captain, grimacing. „You were watching that security officer over there.“ „Dunnae what ya’r talkin’ about“ his accent grew thicker as he spoke. „Oh, you WERE watching her.“ the captain threw his head back with laughter. „Marvelous. And here I thought you only had eyes for a certain ship.“ „While we’re speaking of it“, Scotty got up briskly „I got work to do.“ He could see Bones rolling his eyes, while Jim seemed most amused about the whole affair. Of course he was. The engineer looked down on his PADD. „Ya cannae leave those Ensigns alone for one minute!“ he waved to both Jim and Bones.

„Don’t go hidin’ in a Jefferies Tube, Scotty! We ARE going to talk about this.“ „Are we?“ a hint of laughter and red flushed crossed his face. „Yes. You, Bones here for medical advice“, he slapped Lens shoulder, who „hmphpd“ at the prospect, „And me. I’ll bring Scotch.“ Scotty gave him a thumbs up and vanished. What other choice did he have anyway. Kirk smirked at Len. „Come on. It’s going to be fun!“

The moment your head touched the pillow, your eyes fell shut - but sleep did not come easy to you that day. You were on night shift and thought you could probably catch a few hours of sleep before your work began. Before your inner eye, you saw another pair of eyes. Looking at you from the other side of the mess hall. Giving you half a smile. „It’s Scotty, lass.“. Good lord. You had it bad. And all because that ground mission and your stupid mistake. How embarrassing.

-4 weeks earlier -

„Lieutanent Y/L/N!“, you turned around to your officer and saluted. „Sir?“ - „We got a signal from Solar 6, crashed Exploration vessel. A team of engineers will go down to assist with repairs, I want you to get Ensign Jefferson, Charmichael, Sanders and Bancroft to accompany you, you’re in charge.“ A big grin crossed your face which you quickly repressed.  „Me, Sir?“. Your superior nodded: „Yes, see this is a chance.“ he tapped on his PADD „Chief Medical Officer McCoy presses that you should stay clear of the..“ he stopped reading, cleared his throat, and continued: „..the insects.“ „Insects, Sir? What insects?“ „No further specifications, really, just insects. Ugly ones. Dog sized ones.“ „Ugh. Okay, Sir.“ „I’d say Rottweiler sized.“ he handed you over the schematics. You tried to find some positive associations, but the word ugly pushed itself to the front of your mind. And what was that sack for? „Yeah, definitely Rottweiler, not toy poodle.“ he mused and his stoic face broke into a small grin. „That’s your chance, people have started noticing you, Lieutenant Y/L/N.“ - „Thanks, Sir, I’ll not disappoint you.“

„Everyone on board Shuttle 3C-A, bound for Solfar 6. Everyone seated and ready.“ The shuttle started buzzing as you disconnected from the Enterprise. You took a deep breath. That was, strictly speaking, your first command. You were accompanying three engineers. Two of them you didn’t know, but you had seen their face once or twice in the mess, or in the bowling hall. But the other one. „Oh, lord..“ you muttered to yourself, earning you a side-eye from Ensign Jefferson. That was Chief Engineer Montgomery Scott you were escorting. Calm now, my heart. There is nothing to fear..  A dead officer would put a sudden end to your career, sure. Death in general would put a sudden end to your career, now that you considered it, though. „So, ya know of anything we should be aware of?“, his voice broke your mantra of escalating doom. „Keep clear of the insects, Sir.“ you answered automatically - cool, professional, not freaking out. You took another deep breath. „Insects, ya say?“, he laughed and his laugh was disarming. You couldn’t resist but smile. „Dog sized, Sir, We’ll keep them off you. But they shouldn’t bother us anyway.“- „I’ve heard that one more often then ya would think“ he replied and with that leaned back and closed his eyes, grinning to himself.

Solfar 6 was hot and had a humidity of what felt like at least 300%. Just a bit more, and this would classify as a water planet which required breathers, you thought bitterly to yourself. Standing on your observation spot you felt sweat running down the back of your uniform. Cassandra would have to peel you out of that uniform when she was back. „AYE, ENSIGN JEFFERSON YOU WILL NOT DISTURB ANYTHING HERE.“ you yelled over to said Ensign. Ensign Jefferson quickly regained composure and went back to side eyeing a suspicious looking hill next to him. „You leave it alone, it’ll leave you alone. Just be on guard!“ - with that you made a mental note of talking to your officer. They would have to do a refreshing lesson on exploration-protocol with those ensigns. You let out a sigh and finished your glance over the site. Some people mingled, everything seemed relatively calm and the vessel crew was chatting with one of Scottys engineers. Talking of which - You turned your head to see him elbow deep in the vessel, rewiring a console and rambling:„They should’ve sent a u-boat here, not a space ship, the humidity’s corroding…talkin’ about common sense…“. His team scuttled about. „Status everyone?“ - 4 „Nothing to report, Sir“’s answered your communicator call. Taking a second look, you noticed you weren’t the only member of the Startfleet they’d had to peel out of their clothes, once back on the Enterprise. The Chief Engineer stretched and - oh lord stop looking if you cherish your career, Y/N. Yes, someone would have to peel him out of those clothes. That red shirt followed the back of his shoulders just beautifully right now. „Ensign! Ya’ll have to rewire that bit!“, he ordered. „Here, I’ll show ya…“. Your heart pumped hard. You could feel it’s beat in the back of your throat. Forcing your eyes away, you once more gave the situation a critical glance. Something had changed. You felt it, pulling somewhere in your gut. „Lieutenant Y/N, I think we’ll have some sort of situation here, pretty soon.“ Charmichaels voice cracked through the communicator. You turned around and saw him giving you small wave with his hand. Shadows moved in the surrounding bushes. „Sir, Mr. Scott, Sir. How long until this vessel is repaired?“ - „We’re practically done, although we’re not really ..“ something in your voice made him stop and look up. „What is it?“ - „I’d say we’re going to become friends with the local fauna, Sir.“. Those shadows grew bigger. „Don’t know why they’re here, or coming, not keen on finding out, Sir.“- „Alright, lass. I’ll patch that up and we’re done in a second.“

Things sped up from that moment forward - the crew of the vessel collected their things and boarded their small ship hastily. Engineering started to head into the direction of your own shuttle. „Jefferson, secure the way ahead, Charmichael, Sanders, you’ll escort our engineering friends, Bancroft, you stay with me, we’ll wait and escort Mr. Scott. All phasers set to stun.“ having said that, you strode over to Scotty. He was welding the last two pieces together. „Cannea leave it like tha’, might break on re-entry in an atmosphere.“, he mumbled. Bancroft jogged over to you, sweating and breathing heavily. „You’re not looking good, Bancroft. Catch up with the others, we’ll be there soon.“. The last thing you needed right now was an ensign, passing out while killer insects where approaching.

The shadows grew to be the ugliest thing you’d ever seen in your young career. A huge, bull like head that sat on top of at least 15 legs, heaving a sack filled with god-knows-what. Two pairs of mandibles dripped a violet fluid. „Sir, I don’t want to push you or anything, but Captain will have my hide if anything happens to you.“ - „Aye, lass, we’re done!“ Scotty glanced over his shoulder and grimaced. „That’s one ugly fella.“. He got up and nodded at you, your eyes locking for a short moment. „Then let’s go.“ grabbing his gear, you both turned to fall back to your shuttle.

Those insects did follow you, though. As far as your insect expertise went, they seemed rather unhappy with your presence, clicking their mandibles and approaching faster then you’d expected. „This is Lieutenant Y/L/N, we’re nearly there, get that machine going.“ you ordered and began a slow paced run. There was the ramp to your shuttle and you both were running now. „Prepare for take off as soon as we’re on board.“. There. Almost. Nearly there. Only a few more steps. Only ten more steps. Five. One of the insects buckled up. „MR. SCOTT - DOWN!“ - you only had a split second to react, jumping in front of the engineer and firing a single warning shot into the vague direction of those insects. „That was close.“, you said, laughed, got up - and then looked down your uniform. Violet liquid dripped down your leg. For a moment, everything seemed okay - then pain shot up your leg, intense, a burning sensation, as if someone had pierced your leg with a piece of burning steel. Your legs gave away, you slumped forward as a pair of arms grabbed you and pulled you up the ramp. You felt a breath in your neck. The ramp closed, the shuttle took off, but all you heard by then was blood pumping in your ears and a faint moan. Someone was in pain. You took one breath, then another. It was your voice, moaning. „Mr. Scott, Sir..“ your voice trailed off. „We need Bones on our return, one injured! Unknown fluid.“ that was Scottys voice, bellowing into his communicator. „Mr. Scott, Sir…“ - a face, soaked with sweat, appeared above yours. Dark blond hair, dripping, and a reassuring smile. Warm. The pain started crawling up your leg, as a medical assistant tied your leg off. The heat concentrated in your leg for a short moment, like a living entity - confused, waiting - then it started creeping up again. Determined to eat you up in liquid fire. „Mr. Scott, Sir .. thank you…“ you breathed, feeling your consciousness slowly dripping away. „It’s Scotty, lass.“ he answered, resting a hand on your shoulder. „Just Scotty, lass“ - and with that, your world turned black.

READ ON

Thank you for reading so far! I hope you enjoyed this background story, while we’re preparing for the next part :)

@youre-on-a-starship​ @kaitymccoy123​ @webhoard​ @kirk-enterprise​ @inaugural13

[vorn-legacy]

Republic Naval Investigation Service - part 1

RN-IS: Ord Mantell

Tethered to a starship stanchion, the RHC Colossus made an imposing silhouette against the smudgy skies of Ord Man’. Despite being several hundred metres above ground level, her vast hull made the old ship seem frighteningly low; it cast a huge shadow across the Orodam Peninsula.

As curious, yet wary, locals and off-duty troops alike turned out in force to watch from afar, several long, retractable turbo lifts extended from the Colossus’ underbelly, connecting the concrete land with the durasteel sky. Transport shuttles - tiny by comparison - emerged from concealed hangers, ferrying personnel between Colossus and Fort Garnik, the Republic headquarters for the entire Ord Mantell campaign, while the mechanised lifts hauled supplies down and salvaged equipment and the dead or wounded back up.

Since a recent misdemeanour involving a prototype bomb (which potentially could have wiped out the entire sector), Planetary Command had grown increasingly suspicious of Separatist sympathisers infiltrating Republic operations, so the resupply operation was overseen by a carefully chosen few to minimise this risk. Over the course of the day, Republic logistics crew deposited over one million blaster cells (despite appeals for more plasma cells, the overwhelming majority were ion), eighteen All Terrain Transport Vehicles and a replacement orbital defense cannon - which arrived in several installments throughout the afternoon. As evening drew near, the light level around Republic base camp actually began to grow, as the slowly dipping suns appeared between the Colossus and the mountainous horizon.

As he paced the oddly convoluted streets, ensconced by thick armoured walls, Captain Denniker couldn’t help but feel at ease. Just a few clicks to the North lay a Separatist stronghold and (although it wasn’t yet declassified to any but officers), Imperials had been sighted in the enemy-held territory. Additionally, morale had been generally low, the weather foul and supplies running dangerously low. But in this ironically peaceful moment, drenched in pale magenta binary-starlight and surrounded by hectic cargo droids, shouting officers and loud machinery, Denniker reflected on his brief time in command of the main Ord Man’ force. His promotion from the Expeditionary force had come as no surprise after the calamity surrounding Havoc’s defection. It’s no wonder we’re all suspicious, he mused, if we can’t trust our best ops squad, who can we trust?

In spite of his misgivings and carefully concealed apprehension, his emergency term in transitional command had gone as smoothly as could be expected. Over the past month there had been no major incidents of note - not a bad track record in a war-torn hell hole.

Of course, the garrison had lost the equivalent of a full combat squad during that period, but that was to be expected. Eight were killed by dissident snipers while on patrol and three dead, another badly wounded as a result of an improvised explosive rigged near the base. A couple more were lost to a mystery disease, which had reportedly been contracted while off duty in the Talaran resettlement camp.

Denniker had served the Republic well as interim commander, and the arrival of Colossus meant his job was almost done. The robust officer paused a moment and glanced up at the enormous expanse of oxide-primed armour hovering high above. He ran a hand through his prematurely grey hair, which had once been a similar shade of red. Somewhere aboard that heavy cruiser, Commander Mykon awaited him, ready for the official transfer of leadership. About time, thought Denniker. A combination of bureaucratic nonsense and pirates harassing space lanes had delayed the Colossus’ arrival by a couple of days.

Arriving at the shuttle pad, Denniker spied a crate, neatly piled with his personal effects, sat on a small repulsor-lift trolley. It was attended by a young member of the Ord Mantell Republic cadets brigade. These willing youngsters had been recruited after one or two came forward to volunteer, having lost their homes to the Separatists. Since then, the recruitment program had been met with unexpected success and popularity. None were under the age of fifteen standard human years, and all had proved to be most enthusiastic in serving the military which sought to liberate their planet from Imperial-backed rebels. Denniker knew the lad by sight as Ylum (“my Ma named me for a far away star, Sir”), having personally approved every member of personnel for the resupply operation. Although not yet at the age of manhood, Ylum and his fellow cadets were proving to be diligent scouts and orderlies (on record) and even better guerillas and spies (off record).

As it transpired, Ylum was a delicate demolition expert as well: the Captain’s entire inventory and contents of his quarters had been methodically dismantled, removed, packaged and transported to the shuttle pad in less than an hour. Not that there was much more than four sets of his armour, weapons and a few personal trophies; he wore his Republic officer’s dress uniform on this occasion.

“Seems tha’ we picked ourselves a nice day for this, Sir,” the boy called as he incorrectly saluted his OC. Denniker felt it would be churlish to correct him now. “No rain an’ all, you see.”

“Um, yes… yes it is.” The officer’s mind was entirely elsewhere, but he couldn’t help but notice the view from up on the shuttle pad. Gentle evening glow was reflecting off the murky waters of the Savrip Shore, giving it an almost pleasant aura. Even a broken and fallen bridge in the distance had the kind of rosy glow associated with ancient monuments in the sunset.

As if unaffected by the panorama, Denniker cast an analytical eye over the payload of Ylum’s repulsor-trolley.

“Cadet private Ylum, I’m afraid you’ve been lax in your duties,” the aging trooper admonished, barely concealing a wry smile.

“I… I have, Sir? What’s “lax” mean?”

“Careless, lad. It seems you’ve missed something. Here…”

Captain Denniker slipped a small data-card from his wrist communicator and passed it to the cadet.

“Run back to my quarters, swipe this on the door to let yourself in. It’s fairly quiet around the base today, but if anyone asks what you are doing, tell them to see me.” He gestured the act of swiping the door card, but quickly stopped, realising how patronising it must seem. “Look under my rack… bunk… whatever you folks call it; you’ll find an old ammo case marked as empty. Don’t tell anyone,” he whispered, “but it’s got my secret Corellian Whiskey stash hidden in it. Bring it here at the double, cadet corporal Ylum.”

“I didn’t see anything when I checked… I- I must have missed… and, it’s… it’s private, Sir,” the boy corrected.

“Oh so it is, my mistake. And don’t let anyone see what’s in that case. Wouldn’t look too good on my record!” Denniker laughed amiably as he waved the young man off. He’d been planning the next few moments for a while.

Given that he didn’t encounter any hold-ups, Ylum should be back well before Commander Mykon was due to meet with his precursor, giving Denniker a few moments alone. Below the shuttle platform, he spotted a republic commando escorting a robed Jedi padawan around the Fort.

Army High Command had bestowed upon Fort Garnik the presence of two Jedi masters and their respective students. Master Zoeji was something of a recluse around the Fort. Rarely seen, and even less frequently spoken to. She was Togruta: orange coloured skin and a large lekku set her apart from the almost entirely human garrison. There were rumours that she had been the victim of many racial slurs thrown by troops, but she had not raised the matter, nor had anyone admitted. A second rumour surrounding the eccentric alien force-master, was that she could command the very elements of weather in battle. However, this was somewhat lacking in evidence.

Her student - or padawan - was quite the opposite. Yarrel Vorn was quite the socialite. He’d already been in bother for gambling with the soldiers on an evening and had supposedly been caught alone with a local woman. But what made this young man all the more strange was his sister. Sergeant Elivii Vorn (lacking in her brother’s force sensitivity) had been serving on Ord Mantell for over a year, so there was much surprise when it came to light that of all the Jedi who could possibly have been sent to this hellish war of attrition, one was her own brother. Everyone had agreed it was a remarkable coincidence. Except Master Zoeji, to her it was “the will of the Force”.

Of the other Jedi master and padawan, there had been no sign or news.

Captain Denniker stood silently, observing the miracle coincidence siblings as they made a patrol of the Fort. As much as he was distrustful of the Jedi and their “mystic power”, Denniker was more trusting of Sergeant Vorn. Her tactical brain and lateral thinking had saved lives on many occasions, so when she suggested that her jedi brother be in the vicinity during the transfer of command, to sense malicious intent, the captain had seen the logic of her proposal. The last thing he wanted now was a Separatist guerilla attack on the new Commander.

Although just about old enough to be her father, Denniker couldn’t help but treat Elivii Vorn as an equal. She missed very little and spotted flaws and opportunities in battle-plans better than many of his senior NCOs and even more officers. Also, he found it hard to ignore her looks. Despite having a plastisteel cover over one eye socket (courtesy of a malfunctioning sniper scope), she was still the most attractive sentient being on the continent, so far as Denniker was concerned.

As the pair walked past about ten metres below the shuttle pad, Yarrel Vorn, the padawan, looked up suddenly and met the captain’s gaze for a brief moment before carrying on in the direction of the beach. Denniker turned away, getting a prickling feeling on the back of his neck as if he were being watched. He was sure it was the Jedi trying to probe his mind.

If all had gone to plan, Ylum would have discovered the recycled ammunition canister and the cadet corporal insignia that Denniker had hidden alongside it. The OC paid barely any mind as a droid scanned his personal items and carted them off to be loaded into a turbolift tube.

When a specially marked personnel shuttle changed course and banked down towards Denniker on the landing pad, the officer checked his holo chronograph and sure enough the Commander was very early. One of them types, Captain Denniker noted. Have fun with this one boys.

As the boarding ramp descended, Denniker was greeted with a surprise: Mykon was Chiss! Having spent some time with the man in holo-conference, the captain had never once noticed that his replacement wasn’t human. He’d put the unusual accent down to being born on an obscure colony world and, of course, long range holo communications were tinted blue, so it had been impossible to notice his skin hue.

“Very minimal staffing I see, Captain.” This, presumably was meant by way of greeting.

“Yes, we had been experiencing problems with infiltration, as you’re no doubt aware. I felt it best to minimise opportunity for potential attacks until you were safely planetside and the Colossus on her way. We have even set up molecular scanners to check every single item that leaves the planet for tampering or weaponization.” Where has Ylum got to?! He’s been gone ages.

“Very well, Captain. Shall we get on with proceedings?”

Mykon’s sheer abruptness didn’t take Denniker by surprise too badly. Over the holo he’d seemed marginally more affable.

“Yes, you’re right Commander. Time waits for no Bothan, as they say.”

“Do they? Hmm… How deeply uninteresting. Well, Captain Ivonnar Denniker of the Ord Mantell planetary taskforce, I hereby relieve you of command. You are dismissed.”

The blue skinned officer saluted so sharply that Denniker feared he would dislocate a shoulder.

As he returned the salute, the veteran Captain caught sight of Ylum hanging around at the edge of the landing pad, a mixture of trepidation and glee on his face and a plastisteel ammo can under his arm. Denniker beckoned the cadet over and took the cannister and data card from him.

“Corporal, show the commander to my- I mean his - quarters. And congratulations on your promotion, it’s long overdue.” Sure enough, Ylum had the twin chevrons clipped to his Republic trainee’s jacket. The boy was both breathless and speechless, so he silently saluted both officers, beaming like a madman and led Mykon off towards the heart of the Fort. Not the grand entrance a new Planetary OC might expect, but a practical and safe one.

Taking one last nostalgia-devoid look around at the view which had been his entire world for three years, Captain Ivonnar Denniker boarded the officers’ transit shuttle up to the Colossus, which would take him far far from Ord Man’, to a new career path and a new life.

Less than an hour later, Denniker was found dead and icy cold in the Colossus engine room, a Baradium chain bomb in his hands. Nobody saw him enter.

Ivonnar Denniker: cause of death, unknown.