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ssfghfrrggf · 4 years ago

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Heavy is the Head Chapter 3 Watch It

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Six months later…

Inside the house is so chock full of nervous energy, it practically feels like the whole place is full of static electricity, the apartment was almost worse. Between it being Casey's first shift as acting chief and it being Stella’s first shift as truck lieutenant there’s enough raw energy to power the city for like a month, not to mention everyone else being nervous to see how things will. And frankly, Kelly finds it stressful to be around. He’s given Stella three pep talks this morning, and now it’s time for him to sit back and let her be her and kick ass. The most relaxing place to be in the station right now is seated comfortably in his chair at the squad table.

“Excuse me, I was told to report to 51 as my assignment…”

Severide jumps a little at the sound of the voice behind him and spins his chair around to find himself looking across the bay at a familiar face. It’s been a long time since he’s actually seen the kid- Nathan had called him and asked to put him down as a reference on his CFD application, but the last thing Kelly ever expected was for him to actually get assigned to 51.

“Oh hey Kelly! I didn’t realize that was you!” Nathan says, immediately loosening up.

“That’s lieutenant Severide to you, candidate,” Severide says in the most serious tone he can muster. It’s so incredibly hard not to run over and give him a hug. He’s grown up so much since that day Kelly saved him out of the tipped over backhoe.

“Oh-” Nathan says, flustered and visibly distressed by Kelly’s comment. “Sorry-”

“I’m just messing with you,” Kelly chuckles and waves him over. The kid instantly looks relieved and hurries across the ap floor to get to Kelly. “Everyone’s gonna be thrilled to see you. Come on.”

They’ve barely made it through the doors before Herrmann sees Nathan. Kelly was hoping to get him in and get him to Stella and Casey before everyone mobbed, but it’s too late for that now.

“I’ll be damned! The savior of 51!” Herrmann cries. “Get over here!”

Nathan looks hesitantly up at Severide.

“The lieutenant wants to see you,” Severide says with a nod.

“Get in there!” Herrmann says ushering the new candidate into the common room. Severide follows from a couple feet behind. “Mouch! Cruz! Look who it is! It’s the savior of 51!”

“I don’t believe it! Hey kid!” Mouch says, getting off the couch to greet him.

Ritter and Gallo exchange confused looks.

“Back a long time ago, this lady tried to get 51 closed down, and this little bastard arranged a protest and saved the house!” Herrmann explains and throws an arm around his shoulders. Severide can see him blushing.

“He’s still gotta report in with Casey and Kidd,” Severide says to Herrmann, who inhales sharply.

“Hey, chief wants everyone in the briefing room,” Stella says poking her head into the common room. She looks a little less terrified than she did this morning, but she still sounds nervous.

Casey looks tense, like what he looked like when he got promoted to captain, but 10 times worse. Kelly feels a little bad for him; over the past couple months leading up to this, Boden put Casey in a charge of a lot of things to help prepare him for this. He’s ready for this, but Severide isn’t sure if Casey knows that.

“So we all know I’m no good at speeches,” Casey says as soon as everyone’s in the room. “So I’m not really going to try. There’s just a couple things we need to go over before we get started for the day-”

The bell rings and interrupts Casey mid sentence, and Severide can’t help but be a little amused, the city really is going to throw everything it’s got at him on his first day.

“Engine 51, Truck 81, Squad 3, ambulance 61, Battalion 25, multi vehicle wreck Dan Ryan Expressway.”

“You got this Case,” Severide says and slaps Casey on the shoulder as they all head to the trucks. Casey glares at him.

***

Stella pulls herself up into the front passenger seat of 81; it’s weird not climbing into the driver's seat. The space in front of her seems empty and new. Mouch climbs into the driver seat a couple seconds later and 81 rumbles to life.

“Okay, candidate, we're going to be riding into a mess,” Stella calls over her shoulder to the newest member of truck, who looks more excited than nervous or scared. “Highway wrecks can be more dangerous than fires. You gotta worry about the wreck and the cars passing by. I want you to stay with Mouch the whole call. Don’t leave his side for any reason. Got it?”

“Yes, lieutenant,” he says, his voice quivering with excitement.

“How many cars are we looking at with this?” Gallo asks, shifting in his seat.

“It’s looking like it’s going to be a pile up,” Stella says scrolling through the report coming on the truck computer. “There’s already two other battalions on scene.”

This is going to be a mess. She’d been hoping for a relatively calm shift as her first shift as lieutenant, but of course, almost predictably so, the universe had other plans.

***

The road is a mess as far as Matt can see, and the air is thick and hazy with smoke and exhaust from the endless expanse of cars spread across the highway as he steps out of his car. He takes a second to take in their section of the scene before reaching into his chief’s buggy and grabs his white helmet. It’s like a lonely silent coronation on a battlefield. He’s chief now. It didn’t feel real a couple minutes ago, but it does now as his crews arrive on scene behind him, red lights flashing and sirens screaming into the cool air.

***

“51 I want lines ready incase any of these cars flare up, 81 have your extinguishers on stand by and start extrication, Squad help with extrication. 61, start setting up for triage, and we need an LZ set up incase we need to call in a chopper,” Casey is barking orders almost before everyone is off the trucks. Stella is honestly a little surprised with how quickly their new chief was able to find his stride. With his calm and collected nature that seemed lost only a couple minutes before the call, the white helmet suits him.

“Mouch set up the LZ and keep Nathan with you, then start trying to see who all you can get out without extrication tools and send them to triage, Gallo get the spreaders and cutters off the truck, me and you are working heavy duty tools,” Stella orders, taking command of her crew.

***

“Anything off you see comes through me,” Casey says as people begin to break up to carry out orders. “Tanker trunks, anything that could be hauling hazards, I need to know about it.”

“You got it chief,” Severide says as he moves past him.

“Battalion 25 to main, request for additional med units and a water tanker to my location,” Casey says switching his radio over to main.

“Acknowledged.”

“Chief, we got a gasoline tanker about 100 yards down,” Severide’s voice sounds over the radio.

“Copy that, I’m sending a line down,” Casey replies and turns to Herrmann. “I want a line on that tanker in case a spark decides to make things exciting.”

“You got it, pull,” the lieutenant says and grabs Ritter. “Pull the three inch and get it to that tanker. I’ll be behind you with the wye and two sections of one and a half inch.”

The young engine firefighter is small, but he can run hoses better than anyone Casey’s ever seen. Herrmann made the right choice in having Boden bring him on.

“All units, I want the cars closest to that tanker cleared first,” Matt calls over the radio. “Clear out from there.”

“Main to battalion 25.”

“Battalion 25, go ahead main,” Casey says, studying the mess spread out before his eyes.

“Your extra med units are inbound, but we have a delay on that tanker.”

Casey lets out an angry huff of air before replying to the dispatcher. “I need that tanker. We’ve got an overturned gasoline truck here. We need more water.”

“Understood, eta is 20 minutes.”

Casey clenches his jaw in frustration, when his gaze settles on the new truck candidate. “Candidate, find a hydrant,” Casey orders, and Nathan freezes like a deer caught in headlights. “What’s the matter?”

“Lieutenant told me to stay with Mouch…” he says nervously.

“And I’m telling you to find a hydrant,” Casey snaps, not in the mood to get in a debate with a candidate.

“Yes sir,” the kid chokes out and takes off at a run down the empty road behind them.

“Kidd, I sent Marks to find a hydrant. We’re going to need it if that tanker goes. Mouch is headed your way.”

***

“Damn it,” Stella hisses as Casey updates her on his relocation of her candidate.

“What’s wrong?” Kelly asks, over hearing her angry noise.

“I had Nathan with Mouch for a reason,” she says flatley. Firstly no candidate should be running off on their own, and there’s a lot for him to learn from shadowing Mouch, especially on a call like this.

“Chiefs are gonna be chiefs,” is all Kelly says in reply, casting a nervous glance over his shoulder at the tanker truck.

Stella’s not happy about Casey’s decision to move her guy, but that truck goes and engine doesn’t have a hydrant, they're all screwed.

“We got a spark!” Herrmann shouts and no less than a couple seconds later one of the cars next to the overturned gasoline truck goes up in flames.

“Son of a bitch!” Kelly hisses and ducks grabbing Stella by the coat and pulling her with him.

Stella shakes herself free from his grip as she recovers from the wave of heat that hit them.

“Your probie better hurry up and find a hydrant, or we’re all toast,” Kelly comments under his breath and then ducks off to help Cruz.

“”Lieutenant, foams mixed in we’re clear to spray,” Ritter calls and picks up one of the lines they have stretched.

“Marks, any luck on a hydrant?” Stella asks, keying her radio. The water in 51 is probably enough to put out the car fire, but if spreads to the truck leaking fuel onto the road, they’re going to need the hydrant.

***

“I’ve got a hydrant.” Nathan replies to his lieutenant, his heart pounding in his throat. He can see smoke rising in the air from the wreck down the road from him. Every part of him is itching to be back at the scene helping.

“Ritter’s coming to you with a supply line,” Lieutenant Kidd says. “Hang tight at the hydrant until he gets to you.”

“Yes lieutenant.”

***

“Lieutenant, the driver’s still in this truck!” Capp calls from a good 20 feet away where he’s standing next to cab of the tipped over truck.

Stella can see Kelly freeze and look up from what he’s doing with Cruz. Casey freezes too and the chief and lieutenant make eye contact. It’s always baffled Stella how the two of them communicate on a scene; they have their own silent language. They just seem to know exactly what the other one is thinking.

“You have like two minutes, Severide,” Casey says, answering the question Kelly never asked.”Engine, keep that line on the fire, everyone else it’s time to pull back.”

“I’m not going anywhere until Kelly and Cruz are out of there,” Stella says, it’s always a risky move defying Casey, and it’s probably a thousand times worse to do it now on his first day as chief.

“Lieutenant, I said pull back,” Casey snaps, pinning her down with a glare.

Stella clenches her jaw angrily, but obeys.

“51 is hooked up!” Ritter’s voice comes over the radio.

“Run another line up here,” Casey replies.

“Copy that, chief.”

***

“Kidd, I need to see you in my office,” Casey says before Stella even has her feet on the ground back at the station.

“Aw, somebody’s in trouble,” Kelly teases and pokes her in the side as she walks past him.

“Don’t even joke,” she replies and follows Casey to his office.

“What’s up Chief?” She asks, closing his office door behind her.

“I can’t have my officers second guessing my orders on a call,” he says bluntly, and folds his arms over his chest. “I know you care about Severide, but that doesn’t mean you get to undermine my authority.”

“Yes, Chief,” Stella says, biting back the urge to argue.

“Further more, this isn’t the first time we’ve had this conversation,” Casey adds. “Can I count on you to lead? Being a leader you have to put personal feelings aside for the sake of the team.”

“Excuse me?” Stella replies, raising an eyebrow at her chief.

Casey shakes his head. “Don’t challenge my orders again.”

“Yes sir,” Stella says stiffly.

***

“Gallo, Mouch, Marks, on the Ap floor. We’re doing drills,” Stella says blowing through the common room like a storm.

“But I was helping Ritter with dinner-” Gallo starts to say, making Ritter wonder once again if his friend actually knows the tiniest thing about reading situations, because if he did Darren is about 90% he would not have just tried to argue with Lieutenant Kidd. It’s obvious she’s pissed about something and looking to blow off steam.

“App floor, now. 50 push ups,” the lieutenant snaps.

Gallo opens his mouth, and Ritter elbows him in an attempt to save him from getting his head bitten off.

“Just go,” he whispers to his friend, who thankfully complies without another word.

As soon as all the truck members have emptied out of the common Severide and Herrmann whistle in unison.

“Heaven help their souls,” Herrmann says, shaking his head and looking back to his book. Severide looks a little more concerned and lets his gaze linger on the door to the bay before returning his attention to his crossword puzzle.

“You guys, did you know Mouch could still do push ups?” Cruz asks coming into the common room a couple minutes later with a grin on his face. Tony and Capp aren’t far behind him. “And lieutenant, Stella should become a drill sergeant.”

Severide leans back in his chair and frowns. “What’re they doing out there?”

“When we left, push ups,” Cruz says, plopping down on the couch. “We decided to head inside before she tried to make us do em too.”

Severide doesn’t say anything, he just gets up and leaves the room.

“Hey, Ritter, what’s for dinner?” Cruz asks and changes the tv channel.

“Hey!” Herrmann protests looking up from his book.

“Oh come on! You weren’t even watching!” Cruz protests.

“No, but I was listening!” The engine lieutenant argues. “Switch it back!”

“No, you and Mouch always watch what you want to. I’m watching what I want to while he’s out doing drills.

***

“Hey, chief, you want a smoke?” Kelly offers, poking his head into Casey’s office. He can see the chief is busy and absolutely buried in paperwork.

“Maybe in like five years after I have all this crap filled out,” Casey replies, shuffling papers on his desk.

“I’ll save you a cigar then,” Kelly replies with a chuckle. It’s like when Casey got promoted to captain, but worse. He feels bad for him, but it’s a little amusing.

“Don’t laugh! This isn’t funny!” Casey snaps, but for the first time since this morning he seems more at ease and a little amused.

“Sorry Case, but it is a little.”

“You better watch it! I’ll promote you so fast just so you have to deal with this crap too!”

Severide raises both hands defensively. “I will just go back to my office. No need you for you to do anything drastic. I apologize your majesty.”

“No, it’s fine. I honestly thought you were coming in here to try to fight me about Stella,” Casey says and leans back in his chair.

“I wasn’t aware that was something that needed to be done,” Kelly says and steps all the way into the office and closes the door behind.

“It’s not. She argued with an order on the call, I told her not to let it happen again,” Casey replies.

***

Casey is grateful when Severide nods understandingly and doesn’t immediately jump to Kidd’s defence.

“It’s not my job to fight her battles for her, even if I want to,” Severide says and leans against the door frame. “She doesn’t need me to come in and rescue her. But there’s a lot going on in this house. There’s a lot of new stuff to get used to. It’s a learning curve for everyone, don’t forget that Casey.”

Casey sighs. While he can’t be having his officers second guessing him on calls, Severide does have a point. But he can’t let people get comfortable with disobeying orders or arguing. He let that happen years and years ago with Andy, and he died because of it.

“Thanks Sev,” Matt says.

“Yeah, and hey I can make Capp and Tony come help you with paper work if you want,” Severide offers, opening the door again.

“That’s really generous of you, Kelly. Thank you.”

“Anytime,” Severide says with a cheeky grin.

“Get the hell out,” Casey laughs and makes a shooing motion with one hand.

“Yes, chief,” Severide laughs and ducks out of the room.

Casey sighs and returns his attention to his mountains of paperwork, and remembers what he was about to do before they even got called out to the freeway wreck “Oh, hey Kelly wait!”

“Yes sir?” Severide says spinning on his heals and standing to attention.

“First if you don’t stop mocking you I’m going to write you up for being disrespectful,” Casey laughs.

“Sir, yes sir,” Severide replies and solutes.

“I’m going to kill you,” Casey shakes his head.

“I’ll tell the union,” Kelly snaps back quickly. “I think chiefs murdering firefighters is frowned upon.”

“Oh, they’ll side with me when they find out how annoying you’re being- no, can you get Nathan Marks and send him in.”

“Wow I’ve been demoted to erond boy-”

Casey glares at Severide.

“Yeah I’ll go get him,” Kelly laughs. “Is that all you wanted?”

“Yes, now go away!” Casey replies through a laugh. He’s grateful Kelly was able to make up for them not being able to go smoke. His messing, even if it was a little extra than normal, made things feel at least a little normal again.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” Nathan asks, knocking on the door frame of Casey’s office a couple minutes after Kelly left.

“Yes, I did,” Casey says and stands up. “Your proper introduction to the house got a little interrupted this morning, and I personally didn’t get to extend a proper welcome. So I’m doing it now.”

“Oh, thank you chief,” Nathan replies. It still feels weird being called chief. Like it doesn’t quite fit. “It’s an honor to be here serving with you guys. This house did so much for me.”

“And what you did for it hasn’t gone forgotten either,” Casey replies with a fond smile. The kid standing before him saved this house. “I was thrilled when they told me we’d be getting you. Let me know if there’s anything you need.”

***

“You wanna unscrew the screws on the probie’s bed tonight?” Gallo asks coming back in from doing drills and grabbing an apple.

“No…” Ritter replies slowly. “That would be mean.”

“No, it’d be hilarious, that’s what it would be,” Gallo says around a mouthful of apple. “We gotta do some messing with the new guy.”

“Do you really think that’s a good idea right now, though?” Darren asks. He mostly doesn’t want to do anything mean to the candidate on his first day, but everything also seems really on edge because of the recent changes in leadership. “I feel like everyone’s on thin ice right now.”

“That’s why it’s exactly the right time to do it. Messing around and playing pranks will get things back to normal-”

“What are you two knuckleheads talking about?” Herrmann asks, coming into the cooking area to pilfer from the fridge.

“Nothing,” Gallo says, suddenly looking very interested in his apple.

“Yeah-huh,” Herrmann says looking unconvinced.

“He wants to unscrew the legs on probie’s bed,” Ritter says, holding his friend’s gaze, who looks at him in betrayed shock.

“Oh, yeah, you should do it,” Herrmann shrugs, but really seems more interested in the yogurt he’s swiped from the fridge, than the conversation at hand. “Something's gotta be normal around here.”

“See! Herrmann thinks it’s a good idea!”

“Yeah, or he wants to see us get our heads bitten off!” Ritter whispers.

“You’re so boring.”

“Actually…” Darren says, a better idea coming to him, one that probably won’t get them in as much trouble, but will still satisfy Gallo’s need to prank Nathan. “I’ve got a better idea.”

***

“Did you say something to Casey?” Stella calls to Kelly, as she walks out into the bay. It comes out a little more angry than she means it to, but she is a little angry. She doesn’t need him fighting her battles for her, even if it did soften Casey up a little. Kelly looks up from his crossword puzzle looking surprised and equally confused.

“About what?” Kelly asks and tosses his pencil down on the table.

“Chief ripping me a new one- I didn’t even tell you about that-”

“Take a breath Kidd,” Kelly says calmly and stands up.

“I don’t need you fighting my battles for me.” She knows whatever he said to Casey he was trying to help, and it did help, but she can’t always have Kelly swooping in to save her. If she’s going to be a lieutenant she needs to handle these things herself.

“Stella,” Kelly says a little firmer this time and puts both hands on her shoulder. “I don’t know what exactly happened this morning. And really that’s between you and him. The only thing I told Casey was that this whole thing is a learning curve for everyone, and that he shouldn’t forget that.”

“Oh,” Stella says and deflates a little. Ever since her first talk with Casey she’s been so amped up for a fight. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Kelly replies and wraps his arms around her in a comforting hug.

“I just feel like this big ball of stress, all wound up and ready to burst,” she mumbles and rests her chin on his shoulder. Having him close makes her feel a little better and a little more relaxed.

“You’re doing great, Stella Kidd.”

Stella leans in a little closer to Kelly and as she does so the tones sound.

“Truck 81, person trapped.”

***

“Go get em’,” Kelly says encouragingly as Stella pulls away from him to run to the truck. He wishes he could go with her; he knows whatever the call throws at her she can handle it, but the instinct to protect her and be there to catch her if she falls still tugs at him. He’s never been much of a worrier, but even before she made lieutenant, he’d always get a little pang watching her climb onto 81. Now it’s worse.

***

There’s a woman waiting outside for them waving her arms frantically and shouting when they arrive on scene.

“You have to help him!” she’s crying before they’re even out of the truck. “I told him a hundred times not to try to work on that damn pick up of his!”

“Ma’am what happened?” Stella asks, forcing herself to be calm. This is her first solo call. There’s no chief giving orders, it’s just her and her instinct.

“He was working under the truck and the engine fell on him,” the woman cries, grabbing hold of her coat.

“Okay, I need you to show us where he is,” Stella says, this time she actually is calm as she silent reminds herself this isn’t her emergency, it’s this poor woman’s. “Gallo and Marks, you two stay out here, I’ll radio you when I know what we need. Mouch you’re with me.”

Gallo and Marks both look disappointed but don’t argue with her. Mouch just nods and follows her and the woman to the back yard.

“You awake under there, sir?” Stella asks, laying on the ground and pearing under the truck.

“Oh, she didn’t call 911 did she?” the man groans, answering her question.

“She did, and from the looks of things she did the right thing,” Stella replies, switching on her flashlight to get a better look at what they’re dealing with. “You got a name?”

“Doug.”

“Lovely to meet you, Doug. I’m Stella. And I’m gonna need you to stay still for me, okay?”

The main part of the engine is pinning the man to the ground, but it’s still attached to the truck in a couple places which is probably the only thing stopping it from crushing him all the way. If they move it wrong it could come down all the way and kill him.

“Gallo, we need cribbing, air bags, jaws, and a rope bag,” she says, keying her radio.

“You got it lieutenant.”

“That sounds like a lot of stuff, am I going to be okay?” Doug asks, sound nervous now.

“Yeah, you’ll be fine. I just wanted all our bases covered,” Stella replies and scooches a little closer to him to get a better look at his injuries. “Can you tell me where you’re hurting?”

“My chest… it’s hard to breathe,” Doug wheezes, in the short amount of time since she’s slid under the car with him, he’s started to look more flushed and weak.

“Okay, that’s normal,” Stella says reassuringly. “And it’ll feel better once we get this thing off of you, but I am going to go ahead and call EMS so they can check you out when we’re done, okay?”

Doug nods.

“81 to main, I need an ambo dispatched to my location.”

“Acknowledged.”

“Lieutenant, we got the cribbing,” Gallo says, pearing under the truck.

“Take half of it and get on the other side, we’re going to prop the thing up with it. Mouch get in the hood and see if you can attach the rope to the engine and anchor it off somewhere to stop this thing from falling any more,” Stella says as she grabs the first couple blocks of cribbing and slides them under the edge of the engine. “How we feeling Doug?”

“I’m doin okay,” he mumbles, but doesn’t seem to be doing all that great.

“I’m all good on this side lieutenant,” Gallo calls from the other side of Doug.

“Good, now we just gotta get this thing up.”

***

“What do we have?” Sylvie asks as she and Mackey make their way to the back side of the house. Stella and the rest of the crew already have the victim on a backboard.

“Minor crush injuries, some labored breathing, but he should go to Med for a full check up,” Stella reports as Mouch, Gallo, and Marks load the backboard onto the stretcher. The lieutenant helmet suits her, Sylvie had always been of the opinion that her best friend would make a great leader.

“Okay, thanks,” Sylvie says as the bring the stretcher back around the house. “We’ll see you guys back at 51 later.”

***

“Hey, Mouch, take a left up here,” Stella says as they’re making their way back to 51.

“You got it.”

“Alright stop right here,” she directs right before they pass one of her favorite doughnut places in the city. Mouch looks a little surprised but does as he’s told. “Circle the block and come back and get me.”

She climbs out of the truck and heads for the doughnut shop. She feels bad for running them all on drills so hard just because she needed to blow off steam; she’s been on the receiving end of that with Casey, all of them but Nathan have, and it’s something she always hated. So now she’s going to try to make it up to them, doughnuts won’t fix everything but the way to firefighters’ hearts is through their stomachs.

---

“Okay, eat up ladies,” Stella says, climbing back into 81 with a box of doughnuts.

“Careful, it could be a trick,” Gallo says, stopping Marks before he can grab one of the doughnuts.

“Shut up and take the doughnuts,” Stella quips.

“I wanna know what the occasion is,” Gallo replies, his tone thick with scepticism.

“I’m proud of you guys. You all did great this morning on that pile up and you did great on that last call,” Stella replies.

“Awww, she feels bad for being mean earlier,” Gallo teases, with a cheeky grin.

“Watch it, or I’ll give all your doughnuts to Severide,” Stella warns.

Gallo shrugs and takes a doughnut. Mouch gives her a knowing nod and mumbles something about how he’ll have his back at the station so he’s not eating and driving.

“Truck 81, are you available to go back in service?”

Both Gallo and Mouch groan at the sound of the dispatcher’s voice coming over the radio.

“Just leave her hanging a second,” Galllo pleads.

“I want a doughnut before we do anything else,” Mouch adds.

Stella rolls her eyes and picks up the radio. “We’re available, main.”

***

“Hey, candidate come here,” Gallo says beckoning to Nathan.

Nathan looks at him warely, he’s been warned that fire houses are places of pranks especially for the new guys, and he’s been waiting for something to happen all day.

“Come on!” Ritter says a little more enthusiastically.

Nathan doesn’t know either of them very well, but Ritter seems to be the more trustworthy of the two other young firefighters, and like he’s too nice to pull and pranks. Gallo just seems devious.

“Yeah, what do you guys need?” Nathan asks, finally making up his mind to bite the bullet and walk over to them.

“We need you to make dinner,” Gallo says and hands him the spatula.

“What-”

“It’s a sacred tradition that the candidates cook,” Gallo says, “And see, me and Ritter haven’t been candidates for a hot sec, and yet we’ve been stuck cooking, but now you’ve freed us from that responsibility.”

Nathan sighs and takes the spatula; he’s not really sure if this is better or worse than being pranked. He wasn’t really expecting to be cooking today.

***

“This ain’t half bad,” Herrmann’s the first one to say anything about Nathan’s cooking.

“Yeah, good job candidate!” Casey agrees, raising his cup in Nathan’s direction.

“It’s my mom’s recipe,” He replies proudly.

“Well your mom’s got a good recipe,” Cruz adds, getting up for his second plate of lasagna.

“Who’s the best cook you guys have ever had?” Nathan asks, sitting back in his chair. He’s so glad the lasagna was a success, he was half expecting it to fail like it usually does when he tries to make it.

“I’d say Mills,” Cruz says sitting back down at the table.

“That’s just because you weren’t around for the Casey, Darden, and Severide epic trio,” Mouch says with a fond smile. “Those three knew how to cook.”

“No, me and Darden knew how to cook, Severide knew how to stand around in the kitchen and pilfer while looking like he was cooking,” Casey corrects.

Severide laughs. “I’ve never had to cook once in any of the years I’ve been here.”

“Well maybe we should make you,” Stella says, prompting a couple nods of agreement.

“I don’t think anyone wants that. It’d be worse than Otis’s cooking.” Severide’s response prompts groans from Casey, Mouch, Herrman and Cruz.

“Was Otis bad at cooking?” Gallo asks, and for the first time since being at the house Nathan realizes that Gallo must’ve been the one who replaced Otis on truck.

“The worst!” Cruz says with a laugh. “He was so bad we had to stop letting him cook. It was me and Darden up until…”

“Until we got Mills,” Casey finishes for him, and the room falls quiet for a minute. Nathan can’t help but feel awkward sitting there, he only briefly met Otis once or twice and Darden had died a while before he even met Kelly. He can’t help but wonder if Gallo feels the same way he does.

“Well, I think I’m going to go try to catch some early evening Zs,” Gallo says, stretching his arms and breaking the silence. “The way today’s going, who knows whether I’ll actually get any sleep tonight.”

“Me too,” Ritter says, scooting out his chair. “Lasagna always makes me sleepy. I’d suggest you do too, Marks. Lesson number one about the fire service, you sleep whenever you can.”

The idea of some down time relaxing in bed does sound nice, and all of the older firefighters seem to have had their moods sullied, so he gets up and follows the two of them back to the bunk room.

“Um, guys. Where’s my bunk?” Nathan asks, discovering that his bad is no longer sitting in his assigned corner.

“What do you mean, it should be right...?” Ritter trails off as he walks over see what Nathan’s talking about. “That’s a good question. They did assign you one, right?”

“Yeah, this morning. I made it up and everything. It was right there,” Nathan insists. It was right there.

“Wow, losing your bed on the first day,” Gallo chuckles shaking his head. “Chief’s not gonna be happy if he has to buy a new one.”

“It’s a bed! It can’t just get up and leave!” Nathan protests.

“Come on, we’ll help you find it,” Ritter promises.

Nathan is really pretty sure this is the doing of these two, but he’s going to go along with it because he needs to find his bed.

***

I thought you youngsters were going to bed?” Herrmann asks as Gallo, Ritter, and Nathan come back into the common room. Nathan looks like a man on a mission.

“We were, but Marks here lost his bed,” Gallo replies, and it’s all Severide can do to not snort. He’d watched Ritter and Gallo move his bed out into the bay.

“I didn’t lose it,” Nathan says defensively. “Someone moved it.”

“Probie, why would anyone move your bed?” Casey asks, in a completely serious tone.

“I don’t know, sir,” Nathan replies, starting to get a little flustered.

“Well you better find it,” Casey says, keeping his voice dead serious.

“Yes sir,” Nathan chokes and heads toward the bay doors. Severide gets up and follows him, and everyone else follows suit, obviously wanting to see how this prank ends. The candidate makes it a couple steps out into the bay and stops. His bed, nightstand and lamp are set up nicely in the middle of the app floor.

“Really guys?” he says turning around to face the whole group. Everyone’s starting to chuckle. Nathan holds their gazes for a couple seconds before shrugging and walking over and plopping himself down on the bed, as he does so it gives out and falls on the floor. He lets out a surprised shout and the shock on his face is priceless. This time there’s no holding back the laughter. Ritter and Gallo share a victorious high five, and Nathan joins in the laughter.

When Severide saw them moving the bed, he thought it was a risky move with how high strung everything at the house has been this shift, but they got everyone laughing so it’s actually the best thing they could’ve done.

***

“So, lieutenant, how was your first day?” Severide asks, tucking his arm around Stella’s shoulders as they leave the station to head home.

“Well, I got yelled at by my chief, and then I took it out on my crew, something I promised myself I wouldn’t do, there was a massive highway wreck…”

“Sounds like an average day,” Kelly says comfortingly and kisses the side of her head lovingly. He’s already heard from his fair share of people that Stella did a great job, so he knows she’s just being hard on herself. “And don’t pay any attention to that crusty old chief.”

“No, definitely pay attention to the crusty old chief. He can have the both of you demoted right back down to candidate status like that,” Casey says behind them, and Kelly ducks his head. He had no idea Casey was right behind them. “I’m kidding. You both did great, especially you Kidd, Mouch said you really kept your head screwed on out there today.”

“Thanks Chief,” Stella mumbles.

“You two going to Molly’s for some day drinking and celebrating surviving the first shift with this new order?” Casey asks hopefully.

“Nah, sorry Case,” Kelly replies. He and Stella had already made plans to do some special celebrating involving the shower, the bed, and later beer and ice cream on the couch. “We’ve already got plans.”

“That’s fine,” Casey shrugs. “See you guys around.”

“Should we go to Molly’s?” Stella asks after they’ve parted ways with Casey.

“I mean I personally like the idea of our other plans…”

“Yeah, but doesn’t seem a little lonely to you?” Stella asks nodding toward Casey, who’s fumbling with keys by his truck.

“He’s got Brett and everyone else.”

***

It had once been told to him by Boden that leaders lead from the front, but also that the front is a lonely place to be. Matt thought he understood it when he got promoted to captain and kept getting in disagreements with Severide- it had been lonely not leading things right alongside his best friend, but this is worse. He and Kelly didn’t get into any fights, but he’s the boss now… two ranks above Severide. Their rolls as leaders are now very different, and Matt can already feel the shift in people’s attitudes toward him, like they’re trying to figure out if he’s just the boss and if he can even be their boss and their friend. He can even feel it from Sev.

“What can I get for you chief?” Herrmann asks as Casey sits down at the bar. The Engine lieutenant is the only other person in the bar.

“Whiskey,” Casey says flatley.

“No gentle morning drinking for you this morning than, huh,” Herrmann jokes.

“No, he’ll have a beer.”

Casey is taken aback to hear Severide’s voice from behind him, and the squad lieutenant sits down on a bar stool next to him.

“And his lieutenants will be paying for it,” Kidd adds and sits down on Casey’s other side.

“I thought you guys had plans,” Casey says glancing from Kidd to Severide.

“Yeah, but none of them seemed as fun as having a drink with your sorry ass,” Severide says.

“You guys didn’t have to cancel your plans,” Matt says, but he’s really grateful they’re here.

“Oh, we didn’t really have much to actually cancel,” Stella says and pats him on the back.

Casey smiles at his three lieutenants; leading from the front doesn’t always have to be lonely, not if you’re leading the right people.

***

“Hey! Chloe! You didn’t tell me you were coming to visit!” Cruz cries happily as his wife comes into the station. She looks like she’s ready to pop at any second.

“Well, I’m not allowed to work, so I didn’t have anything better to do,” she replies with a happy smile and sits down in the chair Gallo pulls out for her.

“Well, you’re always welcome here,” Casey says sipping his coffee. It’s nice to see her and Cruz so happy.

“Do you need anything?” Cruz asks, rubbing his wife’s shoulders and looking down at her lovingly. The moment, however, doesn’t last long because the bell rings.

“Squad 3, water rescue…”

“Just get the candidate to get it,” Cruz says quickly and kisses the top of her head before running toward the bay doors.

“Be careful baby!” Chloe calls after him as he disappears through the doors.

“Hey, Candidate, see what she needs,” Herrmann calls to Nathan who’s over pilfering the fridge.

“I’ll have a glass of water, Herrmann,” Chloe says, giving a Herrmann that says all too clearly he’d better be the one to get her the water.

“Yes, ma’am,” Herrmann says and moves to the kitchen, but before he can get to the cups the bell sounds a second.

“Engine 51, residential fire alarm. No smoke showing.”

“Guess the candidate will have to get it,” Herrmann says with a shrug. “See you in a little while kiddo-”

The tones drop again.

“Truck 81, Ambo 61, single car accident.”

“Damn, no one said the Q word did they?” Casey asks as the room full of firefighters clears out.

“You’re not going with them?” Chloe asks as Casey fills up a glass of water for her.

“No,” Matt replies and sits down next to her, setting the cup down in front of her. “They’ve got it covered. If they need me, I’ll go.”

Matt’s never liked sitting out on calls, and as a new chief he certainly doesn’t want to make a habit out of it, but all of those calls sounded relatively small. And someone should stay behind and keep Chloe company, especially with her being so close to her due date.

“Have you guys come up with a name yet?” Matt asks, leaning back in his chair.

“Not yet, we have a few ideas floating around, but nothing final,” she says, rubbing her tummy with one hand. “Oh-” she sucks in a sharp breath and winces.

“Are you okay?” Casey asks, sitting up alertly.

“Yeah, he just likes to kick,” Chloe chuckles, but breaks off and clutches her stomach with another sharp gasp.

***

“Alright, we got you buddy,” Joe says as he and Tony haul the victim into the blow up boat, while Severide pushes him up from the water. Tony throws a blanket over the guys shoulders and directs him to sit back near Capp with the motor.

“Alright, you’re next Lieutenant,” Cruz says and grabs one of Severide’s arms. Cold water splashes him and reminds him again how absolutely stupid it was of their rescuee to be doing anything in the water. Severide pushes himself up ward as together Joe and Tony pull him up. As far as water rescues go, this one was pretty tame.

***

“I’m going to run to the bathroom if that’s okay,” Chloe says standing up, after a while of the two of them just sitting and bouncing back and forth with small talk.

“sure ,” Casey replies and sips his coffee. Chloe makes it a couple steps before stopping as what looks like water splashes on the ground.

“Oh,” she says looking down at the floor, she sounds less surprised than Matt feels. The first thing to cross his mind is panic.

***

“Battalion 25 to Squad 3, are you clear on the call?”

“Yeah, we’re clear Chief,” Severide replies, picking up the radio. “We’re getting ready to head back to quarters, what do you need?”

“Reroute to Med,” Casey replies.

Joe leans forward in the back seat so his head is poking between the driver seat and the passenger seat, a nervous feeling settling in his stomach. He can tell from the tone of Casey’s voice that something’s happening, and the reroute to Med means it’s probably something bad. The first thing he can think of is that something went wrong on a call with another company. “Lieutenant, what’s going on?”

“What’s going on, Case?” Severide asks, flashing a quick glance to Cruz.

“Chloe’s in labor. I’m driving her in my buggy, but you need to get Cruz there.”

No one even has to say anything, Tony flips on the sirens and lays on the horn. Joe’s stomach jumps into his throat, and he feels like he’s about to throw up. He’s had nine months to prepare for this, and yet he’s not even remotely ready for it. Not only that but he’s miles away from his wife and his son who will be coming into the world any moment now.

***

Chloe screams, and Matt wants to join her, but the only thing he can do is step on the gas faster.

“Hold on just a little longer, we’re almost there,” Matt says trying to force calm into his voice. He’s delivered babies on the side of the highway in the middle of a pile up before, and yet he’s freaking out over this.

“Don’t tell me to hold on! You drive faster!” Chloe shouts as they pull around the loading doors to the hospital and Casey slows to a stop.

“Okay we’re here!” He says and jumps out of the car to help her out. April and Dr. Manning are already waiting for them with a stretcher.

“Okay, honey, we got you,” Natalie promises and helps Chloe onto the stretcher. “And we have a room all ready.”

“Where the hell is Joe?!” Chloe shouts as they roll her inside.

“He’s coming, he’s coming, I promise,” Matt assures her as Maggie stops him at the doors of the ER.

“Sorry chief, you gotta wait out here,” Maggie says apologetically.

Casey tries to follow Chloe with his eyes, but she soon disappears from sight. Casey is about to make some argument when the roar of the squad truck’s sirens blares outside the doors of the hospital as the truck rumbles to a stop. The thing isn’t even all the way done moving before Cruz is jumping out the back door and running inside.

***

“Where is she?!” Joe cries as he sees Casey standing with Maggie. He can barely breathe. It’s happening. The baby is coming. It’s happening!

“Come on, I’ll take you to her,” Maggie says before the chief, who looks a little panicked himself, can say anything.

The elevator ride and everything else is just a blur to him. He’s pretty sure Maggie is talking to him, but he’s all tunnel vision, worse than some wide eyed rookie on their first structure fire; the only thing that matters is Chloe and their son.

“Where’s Joe!? I’m not doing this without him!” Joe can hear his wife shouting even before Maggie opens the door to her room for him.

“I’m here baby!” Joe cries, running to her side and taking her hand in his. “I’m right here, Chloe. You don’t have to do anything without me.”

She smiles at him for a half a second with exhausted relief and then pain spreads across her face and she squeezes his hand and screams.

“There we go, push!” One of the doctors says encouragingly.

Chloe screams louder and squeezes Joe's hand even harder. He screams with her.

“One more big push!”

Chloe lets out one more scream, tears beginning to streak down her cheeks, and after one long heart stopping moment, another cry joins hers. And as the doctor hands them their son he realizes his wife and the baby aren’t the only ones crying.

“He’s beautiful Chloe,” Joe chokes as they cradle him between them. He can’t believe it, he feels like if he so much as blinks it will all somehow disappear, and there’s joy deep down inside of him that’s like nothing he’s ever felt before. It’s like all the happiest days of his life don’t even compare in the slightest.

“Brian?” Joe breathes quietly. It feels right, and like the only name that makes any sense.

“Brian Cruz,” Chloe agrees and leans her head against Joe’s shoulder, both of them unable to take their eyes off the baby.

“Hey, Joe I think you should come bring your son to look out the window,” Dr. Manning says, after what feels like an eternity of him and Chloe sitting in awed silence.

“What?” he asks, a little confused.

“Just come over here,” she says nodding her head toward the window. He looks to Chloe who gives him a nod okay. So he scoops tiny baby Brian into his arms and carries him over to the window. Down below them in the parking lot are 51, 81, 61, the squad, and even Casey’s battalion car, all of them lined up neatly with lights flashing, and everyone standing in a neat line in front of the trucks. They must see him standing in the window because they all salute while looking up toward him, and they give off a couple blasts from the truck horns. And Cruz starts crying again as his 51 family welcomes its newest member into the world.

#chicago fire #chicago fire fic #cf fic #one chicago fic #cf fan fic #please reblog if it wouldn't be too much trouble or completely obliterate your blog aesthetic

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thero0ks · 4 years ago

Text

In the Flesh <Shay Cormac>

Another work I forgot to transfer from AO3. Please enjoy <3

Autumn leaves floated on the surface of the river. Her elbows were pressed into her knees, and her nose was buried in a book. Songbirds called to each other, and the soft turning of the pages blended together into a peaceful melody. Her training schedule had been hectic, and preparation for winter at the homestead had taken up most of her free time. It was times like these that she coveted. Solitude, nature, and a good book seemed to always call out to her.

She could be the worst assassin at times. Completely oblivious to her surroundings, and completely engrossed in what she was doing. It was her Achilles' heel, and he knew it. His feet were silent as he crept up the path, taking extra care to avoid the crunchy orange leaves that littered the forest floor. He hesitated studying his target. Her posture was relaxed on the marble bench at the edge of the river. The cowl of her assassin robes were pulled down, and her (d/l) hair was unbound floating in the crisp breeze. As he crept closer he was engulfed in her scent, his eyes fluttered shut for a moment taking in her comforting scent. It reminded him of home, a place that he thought was lost forever. His dark eyes narrowed on his target, and he couldn’t help but grin as he launched himself at her. His hands were quick to find her sides, the tips of his fingers squeezing into soft flesh.

She let out a surprised squeak her body tensing, before letting out uncontrollable laughter. “Sh-Shay.” She managed to choke out between giggles. “Stop!” She shrieked. His attacks finally seized, and he wrapped his arms around her waist resting his chin on her shoulder, “What are you reading lass?”

“That is none of your business Mr. Cormac.” She said with a blush.

His eyes lit up reaching for the novel in her hands. He was quick to snatch it up before she could stop him. “Pamela?” He asked flipping through some of the pages. “A romance book?” He asked quirking an eyebrow as he took a seat on the bench next to her. “I didn’t know you were a hopeless romantic.” He said giving her shoulder a nudge.

“I’m not!” She said reaching for the book, which Shay seemed determined not to give back. “Hope said she liked it, so she lent it to me.”

Shay sprawled across the bench laying his head in her lap, book open to the page she was on. He cleared his throat and began to read out loud, leaving her red faced and embarrassed. After a couple of pages he stopped glancing up at her, “(Y/N) this is an awful book. Are you going to make me read this whole thing?”

She scoffed, “I never asked you to read it. You took that upon yourself, but I see what you mean. It’s even worse hearing it then it is reading it.”

Shay dropped the book, “what’s this sudden interest in romance novels?”

“You aren’t going to drop this are you?” She inquired with a roll of her eyes. He frowned, “humor me. I’m just curious.”

It occurred to her some time ago that he always managed to get her to inadvertently admit things that he didn’t want to be the first to say. He had a knack for convincing her to share her secrets with him, and he always seemed interested in what was going on in her mind. She was never the kind to open up, but if someone asked she would answer truthfully. Her heart was an open book for those willing to ask. “As you know I am a woman.” She began.

“Shocking.” Shay said dryly.

“Eventually, I would like to find someone…” She said rubbing the back of her neck. “Or maybe not, I don’t know. I guess I’m curious?” She continued to ramble.

“Wait, you mean to tell me you’ve never been with a man in any way?” He asked looking up at her, causing the woman to blush.

“I never said that!” She said folding her arms across his chest.

“You didn’t need to.” Shay said with a chuckle. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” He added.

“Regardless, my life isn’t exactly relationship material.” (Y/N) simply said, “but I can read about people who are in the position for such things.” She said simply.

“Maybe you just need someone who leads a similar life.” Shay said softly.

“He’s dead.” Liam’s voice echoed snapping her back to reality. “Shay is dead (Y/N).” He repeated trying to solidify the statement in her mind.

“Dead? How? When?” She asked. Her knees felt weak, and the world seemed to shake at it’s very core.

“He defected. He’s a traitor.” Liam said once more. He was being extremely blunt with her as if she should take his words as solid facts. “One of our fellow brothers, who shall remain nameless shot him.”

Her eyes widened turning on Liam instantly. For a moment her grief was transformed into rage. “Who the fuck shot him?” She asked shoving Liam against the wall.

“For his safety, and your sanity he shall remain anonymous. Now I would suggest you back down and return to your duties immediately.” Liam hissed.

With shaking hands she released him. Liam would not divulge any more information. He’d mentored her enough times for her to know how his mind worked. She spun around leaving the homestead behind her. Her mind was foggy, and emotions crashed about inside her like a sea during a storm. The marble bench by the river had a blanket of snow covering it. Bare fingered she managed to brush it off. Her whole body was numb, so she didn’t even feel the ice biting into her flesh. She collapsed onto the bench burying her face in her hands. Salty tears came quick, and sobs wracked her body. Her best friend was gone, and she’d never gotten to say goodbye.

* **

“Quicker on your feet!” Liam hollered to some novices across the yard. His eyes flickered back to the (p/c/l) figure in front of him. “Your stance is wrong. If someone twice your size swings at you they’ll break through your defense instantly.” He said placing his hands on her hips to adjuster her stance. His fingers lingered on her hip as his other hand adjusted the position of her sword. She knew what he was doing, but she hadn’t been able to conclude if he was ordered to do it as a distraction or if he was genuinely interested in her. Maybe his conscience was clear since his best friend was labeled a traitor, and was currently six feet under.

They ran through the drill until Liam felt the stance came naturally to her. She was placing a practice sword on the rack when Liam’s brogue startled her, “(Y/N). I wish to speak with ye.” She turned to face him giving him her full attention. “I know I’m your mentor, but I wanted to ask you something more personal.” He said softly looking down at the path as they walked. Her eyes widened, and her heart sped up. She knew where this conversation was going, and she’d been dreading it. “It seemed wrong at the time to say anything. You were a novice, and I was one of your mentors. Shay seemed pretty taken with ye, so I never pushed the matter.” He said stopping turning to face her. His hands quickly found hers gripping them for some sense of comfort, or support. “You’re beautiful.” He said earnestly leaning towards her. “I want you to join me in Virginia. I could be your only mentor from now on, and some time at sea together may do us both good.” He rambled on his eyes flickering up to her (e/c) gaze.

“Liam I-” but she was cut off by an Assassin.

“Sir! Kesegowaase is dead!” The rider declared handing him a sealed envelope. “There’s been reports that Shay Cormac has murdered him.”

Liam growled, “dammit! Dammit all to hell!” His thumb popped open the wax seal as his eyes scanned the letter. “That fucking traitor!”

“Shays alive?” Her voice seemed distant. The shock of the news was still seeping in.

“The Shay you knew is dead.” Liam said shaking his head. “Dammit, he’s overtaken one of the forts in New York. Achilles and Hope need to know. Come, you may be getting another promotion soon.” Liam said leading her towards the manor.

Achilles and Hope did not take the news well. (Y/N) found herself seated at a table watching the three debate the best course of action. “Perhaps we could draw him out?” Hope suggested her eyes flickering over to the (p/c/l) woman.

Liam frowned shaking his head, “he’ll be expecting that. Once he sees her he’ll be immediately on guard, or he’ll kill her.”

Hope tisked, “you boys still aren’t over that feud? Shay is obviously a traitor, you don’t have to worry about losing (Y/N) to him. Shay will know this, but I think we both know that he will try his damndest to win her over.” Hope said simply. “Men aren’t that complicated Liam.” She said flicking auburn locks over her shoulder.

(Y/N) sat up in her seat at the discussion. There were a lot of assumptions flying around the room about her, Shay, Liam, and her relationship with the two. She was about to interject, but stopped herself. It dawned on her that this may be the only opportunity she would get to learn the truth. If she could just speak to Shay she would know. Hope, Liam and Achilles hadn’t been entirely truthful regarding the events of Shay’s disappearance. Liam appeared to know that Shay was alive. How long had he known? Why didn’t he want her to know that Shay was still alive? She couldn’t escape the feeling that they were hiding something from her, and she was determined to get to the bottom of it.

“I think Hope’s right.” (Y/N) said making up her mind.

Liam raised his eyebrows at her statement. “I think I can draw him out. He’ll know if I bring others with me.” She added glancing around the room. “Liam’s right. He’d expect that, but Hope’s right too. Shay would expect me to try and find him. I’m sure he’s aware that news of him has spread to the brotherhood. I know he’d speak with me.” She said giving Liam’s hand a squeeze in an attempt to convince him her actions were innocent.

Liam squeezed her hand back, “so you’ll go…to Virginia with me?” Hope filled his eyes, and she was tempted to look away, ashamed of her lie.

“Yes, of course. After New York.” She said offering him a smile.

* **

New York was bustling with activity. Blending into crowds was an easy task for (Y/N). She made her way to the docks. The Morrigan had disappeared from the homestead, and (Y/N) assumed that this was the best place to look for Shay. The man wouldn’t wander too far away from his beloved ship. The docks seemed endless. She must have read the name of fifty different ships, but still no Morrigan.

Shay peaked around the corner of a ship. Her back was to him as her eyes scanned the docks. He’d managed to search the perimeter, and he was able to confirm that she was alone. She hadn’t changed much. Still completely oblivious to his predatory gaze. He was directly behind her when he finally spoke up, “looking for me lass?”

She jumped at his voice, but something inside her eased at the recognition of his voice. Her shoulders started to shake, and she knew there was no use in trying to stop the tears that pooled in her eyes. She slowly turned to face him, “you’re really alive. You’re not a ghost?” She stated gazing up at him. He could see the tears collecting on her long lashes and streaking down her face.

“Aye, it’s me. In the flesh.” He said with a simple nod of confirmation.

“You look...different.” She said eyeing his robes, and she noticed the blood red cross on his chest. Her eyes flickered up to his dark lidded eyes. “It suits you.” She said quietly.

He took a step towards her closing the distance between the two. His arms wrapped around her pulling her to him. He knew she’d spill whatever was on her mind when she felt safe, and he wasn’t wrong in his assumption.

“Shay everything is wrong. Liam told me you were a traitor, and that you were dead. I'm pretty sure Achilles, Hope and Liam aren't telling me the whole truth." Her voice was muffled in his coat. "And I think Liam's in love with me."

Shay froze at her last sentence, "Liam is in love with you?"

"I think; he wants to mentor me, and go to Virginia with him." She said, and her eyes widened at what she had just said. She quickly pulled away from Shay. "Shit! I shouldn't have told you that."

"Lass I think you need to sit down and calmly explain what's going on." He said observing her wide eyes and obsessive pacing. "Come on lass." He said putting his arm around her leading her across the docks. Fort Arsenal was close. He studied her out of the corner of his eye as he lead her to the fort. His heart still fluttered at the sight of her, and she still felt like home. He was worried she'd hate him, but he could see the internal conflict within her.

He lead her into the fort sitting her down in front of the fire. He shoved a glass of whiskey in her hand. "Drink this lass. It'll help." He said sitting next to her. He didn't try to speak until she finished the glass.

"Shay, what happened? I came home from my mission and Liam told me you were dead. He said that you were a traitor." Her eyes flickered down once more to the cross on his chest.

Shay sighed running his hand down his face, "I went to Lisbon, and found the precursor sight. When I touched it, it triggered an earthquake. It was a repeat of Haiti. Thousands of people died. All because of me." His gaze flickered to the fire. He couldn't bare to see her reaction. "I told Achilles what happened, and he refused to stop meddling with the precursor sights, so I attempted to steal the manuscript, and you know the rest."

He heard the thump of glass on the mahogany table and the shuffling of feet. "Shay, .Lisbon wasn't your fault. You didn't know." She said softly gripping his hands in hers. She was kneeling in front of him looking up at him.

"Do you love him?" Shay asked his gaze smoldering in the firelight.

"No, it's always been you." She said softly. Shay didn't hesitate to capture her lips in a kiss. He'd thought of this moment often, he'd imagined it in a hundred different ways, but nothing compared to this. His fingers tugging her closer, so that she was in his lap. Her fingers expertly pulling on his dark locks creating a pleasant sensation. He picked her up carrying her across the room letting her back hit the feather mattress. Her long lashes framed pupils blown with lust that gazed up at him with nothing but trust. He smoothed back her (h/c), "do you trust me?" He inquired searching her eyes for any doubt.

She nodded pulling him down by the lapels of his jacket and whispered, "always" against his lips.

* **

She awoke to the warm sun on her bare back. She gave a tentative stretch feeling a pleasurable soreness in her body. She rolled over to find the bed empty. She climbed out of the bed creeping across the floorboards hearing low voices echo through the fort. She turned to find a note on the bedside table.

Early morning meeting. I'll be back around ten. Yours, Shay

She grabbed a light blanket at the end of the bed wrapping it around her shoulders peeking out the window. It couldn't be past eight. Her robes were scattered across the mahogany floor, which she promptly ignored. She found a kettle and placed it over the fire taking a seat. She didn’t know if returning to the homestead was an option after last night. Hope had spies all over the city. She wasn’t a fool, and neither was Shay. Someone saw them enter Fort Arsenal, and she could guarantee that someone had been posted outside the stronghold all night to see if she left the fort. Which she hadn’t, so there were only two conclusions the brotherhood would come to: she was killed, or she defected. Hope would assume the latter, and Liam? Who knew. She could most likely convince him she was held prisoner from questioning, but the rest of the brotherhood wouldn’t trust her. The whistling of the kettle snapped her from her thoughts. She took the kettle off the fire busying herself with making a pot of tea.

* **

It was a little past ten when Shay got back. The pessimistic part of him worried she’d be gone, but his heart told him she stayed. He was eager to see her and possibly repeat the events from last night. He found her seated in front of the fire, deep in thought. “I was worried you’d left.” He said snapping her back to reality.

She quirked an eyebrow, “if I recall I’m the one who woke up alone.”

He chuckled giving her temple a kiss, “I left a note.” His hand giving her bare arm a rub. “I’m yours for the rest of the day.” He said pressing a kiss to her neck his stubble scratching the delicate skin.

“Shay..” She said softly, “we need to talk.”

Shay froze. He knew this conversation was coming, but he hadn’t been prepared for it to come so soon. He was hoping to enjoy her a little more before she left, but he understood the predicament she was in. The predicament he put her in. He rocked back on his heels using the momentum to stand. He took a seat in the chair opposite of her. Her bottom lip was glossy, and he knew she’d been anxiously biting it all morning. A habit she’d had since he met her.

“I realize the position I’m in.” She began her fingers playing with the ends of the blanket that was draped around her. “I am not a fool. I know Hope has spies in the city, I know we were followed, and I didn’t return to the bureau last night. To the brotherhood I’ve defected.” Her voice grew soft at the end. “I suppose in a way I have. I lied to Liam and Hope. They expected me to kill you, and I knew that I wouldn’t.” She hesitated, “a lot of people put their trust in me and I’ve betrayed them.” She groaned burying her head in her hands, “I’m going to fucking hell.”

He cursed, “Shite lass. This is my fault, I should have turned you away immediately. As soon as I saw you I had hope that someone didn’t completely turn on me. Then when you mentioned Liam I got angry, and jealous. I thought maybe he’d gotten to you too, and the thought of you loving him killed me, but when you told me you still cared for me I had to have you.” He confessed gripping her hands in his. “I’ve wanted you for so long, and it was selfish of me, but I’ll never regret last night. Even if you chose to leave.”

“After last night I have no desire to return to the homestead.”

A smile bloomed across Shay’s face, “you’re staying lass?”

“If you’ll have me.” She said kissing the tip of his nose.

He pulled her into a bone crushing hug, his thumb smoothing her hair. “I thought you were going to tell me I’d lost you forever.” He said nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck.

“I lost you once Shay. Never again.” She said kissing the top of his head.

“I love you lass.” Shay murmured against her neck.

Her heart eased at those four words. For once he’d been the first to confess. She’d heard him express it in a million different little ways, but his confession did not leave any room for doubt. Her fingers trailed his back as she uttered, “I love you too.

___

Tag List:

@jstar1992 @pink-polarfox

#Shay Cormac #shay cormac x reader #shay cormac oneshot #shay cormac x y/n #assassins creed rogue

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sezja · 3 years ago

Text

Sleeptalker, Part 5 [End]

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV

Ship: Guydelot/Sanson

It took altogether too long to write and submit his report on their most recent mission - successful, by all accounts, though Sanson had struggled mightily with his conscience on precisely how much detail he ought to include regarding some of the more brazen choices the members of his unit made, including Okhi and Guydelot’s creative attempts at what a more tightly-calibrated moral compass might call extortion. But the report is written, lies by omission and all, and after too long on the road, Sanson is more than pleased to return home at last. Well after nightfall, with the moon riding high overhead, full and bright in a clear sky.

He should be grateful the mission turned out as well as it did, he knows; no casualties, few injuries. Sanson touches his own lip, split and bruised: one of the worst injuries they’d sustained, and that from an ambush! All things considered, he realizes, things did turn out remarkably well, and he owes much of that - as usual - to Guydelot.

It will be good to be home again.

He’s unsurprised to find the house dark… but he is surprised to find Guydelot’s boots already by the door; ‘twas far more common for Guydelot to celebrate a successful mission by joining the others at a tavern for the evening, and though it’s late, it’s far too early for him to retire. Frowning, Sanson sheds his own boots and the gloves, coat, and hat that mark him as a Serpent Captain, wandering toward the bedroom.

Asleep already?

Painted by the moonlight spilling through the open window, limned in silver, Guydelot is a sight to behold, and Sanson leans in the doorway a moment, simply admiring the view. Not for the first time, he wishes he had a bard’s poetic tongue, the better to capture in words what a rare and special creature Guydelot is: even with his hair as ruffled as a bird’s nest, even snoring quietly, even sprawled like an awkward colt across the bedsheets, Sanson finds him beautiful. More beautiful still when Sanson notices Guydelot’s fingers moving: not merely twitching, no, but familiar - he knows those movements, from watching the bard play his harp hundreds of times. Sanson has heard him sing in his sleep before, as well. Even in sleep, Guydelot reaches for song.

How in the world had Sanson Smyth, no particularly grand romantic, stumbled into love with someone like this? His heart aches, in the best way - he’d never particularly thought himself capable of tenderness, but rooted to the spot, his throat tight, he cannot feel anything else. His conflicted feelings about their mission, even the pain of his lip; none of it mattered. Those were concerns for the outside world, not here, not their quiet little sanctuary.

Sanson lets them go, and lets himself revel in his own fortune, instead.

How did I manage to get so lucky?

With a drowsy murmur, Guydelot’s eyes open, bright in the moonlight. They settle on Sanson in the doorway, as surely as though he’d called the man’s name, and Guydelot’s lips curl into that familiar slow half-smirk that always makes Sanson’s heart stutter.

“Look at you,” Guydelot says, his voice hoarse with sleep. “How’d I luck into you, eh?”

“I was just thinking much the same thing.”

The smirk becomes a grin. “What, about how I got so lucky? Smug bastard.”

Sanson sighs in rueful affection, pushing away from the doorway and peeling off the rest of his clothes. Though he’d like a bath, he suddenly realizes he’d like Guydelot a good deal more, and too much time on the road without much time alone together…

“There you are.” Guydelot reaches out a hand and Sanson takes it gladly, letting himself be drawn down to the bed and the familiar warmth of Guydelot’s embrace. “What kept you so late?”

“What sent you to bed so early?” Sanson counters, tracing idle patterns on Guydelot’s bare chest with his fingertips. “I’d have expected you to be out for hours yet.”

Guydelot catches his wandering fingers, pressing them briefly to his lips. “Might be I was tired?”

“Mayhap.” And mayhap he’d simply wanted to be home alone with Sanson after weeks on the road, behaving themselves because they were on duty, and had a certain responsibility. Sanson suspects he knows the feeling. The taverns will wait. This hunger is more urgent, though gentle.

That smile resurfaces, and Guydelot releases Sanson’s fingers to trace the curve of his cheek instead, resting his thumb gently on Sanson’s injured lip. “How bad’s that hurt, anyway, Chief?”

Sanson pulls him in. “Best we find out.”

The first kiss is gentle, careful, almost chaste. Almost, if not for the heat in Guydelot’s eyes, and the way Sanson’s heart leaps when their lips meet. The second kiss is hungrier - and he jerks, hissing in pain. But when Guydelot goes to draw back, concerned, Sanson holds him in place, hands firm on the back of his neck.

“It just stings,” he breathes. “Don’t stop.”

Guydelot grins against his lips. “Yes sir.”

#sanson smyth #guydelot thildonnet #sleeptalker #my writing #DONE.#IT'S DONE.

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colehasapen · 4 years ago

Text

(CHAPTER 3) there's a river full of memory STAR WARS

Rex is on edge. It doesn’t show on his face - he’s too well trained to be obvious about his unease - but it hums in his bones and makes his skin itch, heart racing in his chest. His tongue feels glued to the top of his mouth, his lips refusing to form the shapes needed to speak, but he forces it, despite the way it makes him feel like his skin doesn’t fit his body, because he has duties to attend to and any slip up could have the Longnecks deciding to finally decommission him.

Cody and Obi-Wan didn’t check in. Rex knows from experience that not every comm call can be made, he knows that it’s not always possible to send a message, but Cody had messaged him, hours ago, with an all-green signal. They had created the signal even before their relationship with Cody’s General had begun, to assure each other that they’d made it out of their most recent mission in, mostly, one piece, and that they’d be free to comm after debriefing. But it hadn’t happened. Rex had waited for their usual time, he waited as it came and went, and his mind had spiraled into all the terrible things that could have happened to them since then. He’s been moving on autopilot ever since, going through his duties as is expected of him to his usual high standards, but most of his attention is on his comm, waiting to see if his brother or partner would call.

They don’t. Instead when his comm goes off, it’s General Skywalker who summons him down to the bridge.

He lets out an internal sigh when he steps into the room, bucket tucked under his arm, to find his General standing in front of the holos of Generals Windu and Yoda, a faint frown on his face. General Skywalker isn’t exactly subtle about his general dislike of the High Generals, and it wasn’t uncommon for him to make sure Rex would be there for his meetings as a form of emotional support. Rex respects and cares for his General, but it doesn’t mean he’s comfortable playing interference between him and the High Council, even if he would continue to do so if it was what his General needed him to do.

Rex snaps off a quick salute, “Generals.”

“Captain Rex.” General Windu greets, expression severe, and the tilt of General Yoda’s ears makes Rex nervous as he comes to a stop at General Skywalker’s elbow. When he glances at his General out of the corner of his eyes, the Jedi shrugs awkwardly, fiddling with the glove over his mech hand, like he tends to do when he is unsure.

The holo flickers - another call coming through - and when it’s accepted Cody shimmers into being. Rex jolts, catching himself before he can sway closer to his brother in alarm; Cody’s expression is flat, blank in the way Rex knows unnerves people who don’t know his older brother, but the minuscule twitching of his fingers against his thigh betrays his uneasy mental state.

“Welcome back, Commander.” General Windu is saying, but Rex barely hears it over his focus narrowing in on his brother.

Why is his brother in the call instead of General Kenobi? What had happened after Cody had sent the green signal?

General Windu crosses his arms over his chest, “How is Obi-Wan?” The question is odd; Rex doesn’t think he’d ever heard any of the High Generals refer to each other by their first name, or any other Jedi as such unless they were young or were a part of their lineage. It’s just a part of the Order’s culture, Rex had come to understand - a way to show respect. So why hadn’t General Windu used the other General’s title?

What had happened to Obi-Wan?

Cody’s eyes twitch slightly, and he folds his hands behind his back. “Resting again, sir.” Cody reports, “I have troopers looking after him right now.”

General Skywalker snorts, “You must have needed to chain him to the bed.” He says, and Cody flinches. General Windu grimaces, sharing a look with the ancient Jedi beside him, and General Skywalker’s brows furrow, eyes sharpening. “What aren’t you telling me?”

The Master of the Order sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Master Kenobi and Ghost Company were assigned to a mission to retrieve an ancient Force relic-”

“I’m aware.” Skywalker interrupts, and Rex winces at the disrespect aimed towards their superior officer, stamping down his own instinctive anxiety induced by the action. “What happened?”

Windu’s brows tilt, and he sighs. “As of three hours ago, Master Kenobi was chronologically regressed to the physical and mental age of a human child of twelve standard years.”

“What?” Skywalker cries, and Rex stiffens, fingers tightening on his helmet, eyes darting over to Cody’s hologram.

The Marshal Commander gramces, but inclines his head in a soundless nod. Rex shuts down his distress before he really gets the chance to feel it, pushing it away to a box to deal with later when no one could witness it. Rex shuts down his negative emotions, ignores the shaking of his hands around his bucket, and builds a wall around his thoughts.

Not now, he tells himself.

“Why wasn’t I told?!” General Skywalker demands.

“Regulations and protocol dictates that General Kenobi’s status was to be reported to the High Generals above all else.” Cody’s voice is monotonous and flat, but Rex knows his older brother better than he knows himself, and can read the silent apology in his words when their eyes meet.

But General Skywalker doesn’t know Cody, and the synthleather of the man’s glove creaks from the force of his fists clenching. “He’s my Master.”

General Yoda’s ears twitch, “His Padawan, you no longer are, Knight Skywalker.” The ancient Jedi says simply, effectively pulling Rex’s General’s ire towards himself instead of Cody. “The correct thing, Commander Cody did. Put feelings above duty, one cannot.”

General Skywalker gets that twist to his eyebrows that Rex knows - it’s the one that so often precedes an explosion or a Seppie patrol torn to shreds. This, however, is not a situation that requires a well-placed fire, so Rex clears his throat, drawing attention to himself instead of his General. “Sirs.” Four pairs of eyes swing towards him, and Rex tries to ignore the cold sweat gathering at the base of his neck. He forces his heavy tongue to move through years of practice. “Is General Kenobi’s-” he hesitates on the word, unsure what to use, “-state reversible?”

Please say yes , Rex begs to any possible higher power that may be listening. He’s a clone, he already owns nothing, not even his own life, but what he and Cody have with their Jedi is theirs . It’s the only thing they could ever claim. Not openly, of course, not while they were at war and Rex and his brothers were all-but slaves. The only thing stopping them from being recognized as slaves is the lack of laws recognizing them as sentient beings, but Obi-Wan treats them like humans. He lets them be themselves, like the individuals they couldn’t be outside of the protective walls of their rooms; he lets them be as soft and gentle as they could ever want to be, they can put away their weapons and the violence of their lives and just breathe.

They own nothing, but Obi-Wan had given them his heart. He had loved them and trusted them and treated them like people . It wasn’t just sex to the Jedi - if it was, he never would have chosen Rex - and for Rex and Cody, it was a sign that they could dare hope for an ‘after the war’. They could dare to dream.

Rex could dream. A farm, so much Cut and his family’s, the place where Rex had first started considering what he wanted in his life, and a peaceful life without any more fighting. No more death, no more worrying that his brothers won’t walk away from the next battle. Children, and a life without the knowledge of the suffering in war for them. But if Obi-Wan is gone , if he couldn’t be turned back, then he would take those dreams with him. Rex would keep fighting, of course, because that would be all he could do until he’d inevitably end up as just another name said during remembrances, he’d still keep fighting to hopefully see the end of the war.

It wouldn’t be the same though, not after his life had so dramatically changed the moment Obi-Wan had sauntered into it. Rex wasn’t sure how he’d manage to go back to the way he was if Obi-Wan was gone, not after he had fallen so hard for him.

General Windu’s frown is tight, “As of this moment, we do not know.” The High General says grimly, and Rex taps anxiously on his helmet, throat burning.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” General Skywalker growls, “How do you not know? You’re the Council!”

General Windu sighs through his nose, “The Council is not all-knowing, and many of our records were lost during the Sith Wars.” He rubs a hand across his jaw, and he looks exhausted enough that Rex can read it even through the holo.

Ponds would have insisted his General rest, if he was still around to do so. He probably would have dragged him to a bed by his ear - he had done it to Cody plenty when they were still cadets.

“Master Nu is scouring the Archives for any information we have on the relic, and the Council has sent Master Tholme to study the Temple where the artifact was stored.” General Windu is speaking again, and Rex mentally throws himself as far away from his thoughts of Ponds and the body lost to the void of space as quickly as he can. “We have ordered the Negotiator to return to Coruscant while the bulk of the 212th reroute to join Knight Secura, under the command of Admiral Block.” Cody nods along as the High General speaks.

“I’ve turned control over to Captain Fordo to command the ground troops.” His brother states, “Officially, Ghost Company is docking for shore leave.”

General Yoda dips his head in agreement, “Know Young Obi-Wan’s state, none can.” The ancient Jedi says seriously.

“Shouldn’t we report this to the Chancellor?” General Skywalker asks, but General Windu shakes his head.

“We cannot let news of Obi-Wan’s condition spread, for both the security of the Republic, and his own safety.”

“Chancellor Palpatine is a wise man.” Rex’s General argues, but Rex is more inclined to agree with General Windu, despite the ache in his head that follows - the sudden burst of anxiety over not reporting to the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic. “I’m sure he’d be able to help,” the Knight tells the assembled command, “Obi-Wan is a General of the GAR, the Chancellor will want him to recover.”

Generals Yoda and Windu share a long, heavy stare full of words Rex will never be able to translate, before the Grand Master shakes his head, tapping his cane pointedly on the ground. “A Jedi problem, this is.” The old green Jedi says, “A Jedi solution, it needs. Know, the Chancellor cannot.” Then, the High General studies Rex and his Jedi, humming thoughtfully, “Return to Coruscant, Torrent Company will. Classes to attend, Padawan Tano has. Meditation and relaxation, you need. Shore leave, you will have.” The statement makes the clamp around his lungs loosen, and Rex lets out a quick breath of relief. “Connect with the Negotiator, you will.”

He needs to be with Cody. Cody’s the only one who understands the crushing storm bottled into his chest, and Cody needs him too; Rex can tell just by looking at the tightness in his brother’s stance that relaxes by a fraction when the Grand Master’s order comes through.

#cole writes #swtcw fanfiction #captain rex #commander cody #codexwan #codywan #rexobi #anakin skywalker #mace windu #yoda #memory-verse

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ahsoka-lives · 5 years ago

Text

Chasing

Iris Pt. 5 Inquisitor!Cal x Reader

Warnings: TW: Someone is killed but it’s not too graphic. Smut, Master kink, vulgar language, inappropriate use of the force, overstimulation, unprotected sex.

A/N: Yes, finally some smut. I’m honestly just going to keep adding to this fic until I feel it gets closure. I just have so much free time right now so I keep writing. Please enjoy and a big thanks for all the love!! I always appreciate feedback and a huge thanks for those of you who have messaged me!! Gif is by @wiccangoddes. I do not own the planet or characters in the story.

Word Count: 3282

Kashyyyk was unlike any place you’ve seen before. It was alive in every sense of the word. At first when Cal said you’d need round the clock protection when on planet you thought he was being dramatic but after almost getting your leg torn off by a vine that tried to eat you, you understood exactly what he meant.

You’d been here for two days now. Cal was to protect an artifact that was being studied by the Empire at the base.

So, as the sun on Kashyyyk rose he gathered you and 3 troopers in black armor to discuss the plan- “Being that the target is after a relic that is being held in this base, we know he can’t be too far out. I want a perimeter 2 clicks out but not too tight. You three and myself will venture outside the perimeter and try to push him in the right direction. You,” He pauses and despite the mask covering his eyes, you knew his eyes were on you. “I need you to track the beacon in my helmet and the heat signature that the target’s body will give off. As soon as you get a ping on him I want quarterly updates on his location. We’re going to trap him inside, make him think he got in on his own and then I’ll take care of it. Tell the men not to engage directly, there’s no need to lose lives today.”

And with that he left, leaving you in the security room with two troopers and BD-1. You’d been in there for five hours just watching the little green dot that was Cal’s tracking beacon.

“Hey, y/n, could you take a look at my transponder? I think it short circuited.” A storm trooper asked approaching you.

“Sure thing.” You were happy to have something to do while you waited. You reached your bag from behind you and grabbed for a screw driver.

“So, what’s someone like you doing with a man like that?” His words surprised you and an argument in Cal’s defense began forming in your mind.

“Trooper, if you need help with your suit you are to report to your division captain. Master Kestis gave strict orders for you not to bother his partner. If I were you, I wouldn’t go against them.” A commander on duty spoke from in the doorway, her voice strong through the modulator.

“Yes sir.” The trooper nodded and walked back to his position at the door.

His partner?

Bloop!

The panel signaled that the heat signature of the target had come up on the radar.

“Cal, he’s just breached the 4th sector.” You immediately spoke into your comlink.

“Copy.” He replied simply, you watched as the green dot who had been traveling through the middle of the 3rd sector turned sharply and started toward the 4th. The target was nearing the perimeter but Cal and his men were gaining on him fast, a little too fast if this plan was to work.

“If you want this to last much longer you’ll have to slow down, Cal.” You warn, a nervousness coming over you. He was chasing a dangerous fugitive directly to the base you sat in.

“Don’t worry, flower, this isn’t my first chase.” A strong blush comes over your face, this was a shared frequency. Did he not care at all about the others listening in?

The commander behind you stifled a laugh and you made a mental note to give him a piece of your mind later. But right now, the target was seconds from breaching the perimeter.

“Sector 4 perimeter, you’ll be having company any minute now.” The commander cautioned. “Remember, make it look like you’re after him but do not engage directly, Master Kestis wants this one for himself.”

You watched in amazement as the target ran further past the perimeter, Cal in pursuit. You felt your nerves heighten as the chase came closer and closer to your building. You just had to be in the eastern wing.

“I sense unease from you, y/n. You don’t think I can protect you?” Cal teased.

“How could have you possibly sensed that?” You were in disbelief.

“Intimacy bonds people, sweets. Now, I gotta go, someone else needs my attention.” The line ended leaving you to deal with the repercussions of his blatant flirting. Your face burned and you turned to glare at the troopers who’d had their gaze fixed on you.

They were quickly distracted by the group of troopers running away from the buildings entrance.

“Ma’am, it may be best for you to move to a more secure location.” The commander was now standing directly behind you with her weapon drawn. The panel was no longer displaying Cal or the target, meaning they were inside the facility.

You nod and rise to your feet, following the commander to the door. She turned up her blaster to look both ways down the hallway before nodding her head to the right. “This way.”

Just as you rounded the corner when you heard the voice of Cal from down the hall. You pause and look up at the commander who was staring back at you, and while you couldn’t see her face, you knew she wasn’t too happy about what you were about to do.

You inch your way to the corner of the hall and peer at it seemingly empty.

“You seem lost!” Cal called mockingly, walking into the opposite end of the hall with the target a few steps of ahead of him. The target was taking cautious steps backwards and had his saber raised in defense while Cal was lazily holding his at his side.

The man suddenly brought his saber up and attempted to strike Cal only for him to to block it. Cal almost seemed bored.

The Inquisitor brought his free hand up in an all too familiar fashion and the man was promptly raised a few feet up, his saber deactivating and falling to the ground.

“They just don’t make em like they used to.” Cal tsked before dropping his hand and swinging his saber around to slash through the mans abdomen in one fell swoop.

You stood there in shock at what you had witnessed, Cal struck him down with such finesse. He twirled the saber and deactivated it before hanging it back onto his hip.

“Target neutralized.” He said simply into the comlink. “Let’s get this cleaned up, gentlemen.

Cal stepped over the body and walked toward the room he last saw you in but stopped short when he felt something tugging him elsewhere. He glanced down the hall and there you stood, staring at him with shock written all over your face.

“What? You’ve never seen him fight before?” The commander sneered from behind you.

You turned and glared at her before quickly returning your gaze to the man walking toward you. You straightened your posture and took a deep breath in, he’d been gone so long and you wanted him back.

You hated to admit it but that stupid helmet suited him.

“Really? You think so?” He chuckled darkly and removed his gloves. You rolled your eyes at the Inquisitor before you, you hated how in tune he was after missions. You didn’t get to say anything else before he wrapped you up in a quick hug. Your head against the firm chest plate wasn’t ideal but it was refreshing to feel his warmth again.

He released you and turned to address the commander.

“Your men were efficient in the field today, good work. You’re dismissed.” He said with a wave of his hand, she nodded and turned on her heel. “And you, you did well today, too. I’m glad to see this position is working out. Now, come let’s get going.”

The sky was now dark and decorated with twinkling stars. You were sitting in a sofa chair, leaning toward the large sliding door to look out at them. The room you were staying in was several floors up and overlooking a lake that was whimsically reflecting the stars above.

“I got report that a storm trooper was a little forward with you today.” Cal said from behind you.

Without turning to look at him you sigh and close your eyes.

“I don’t know if it’s anything to be worried about, you know how men are, Cal. But you,” You turn to look at him now and see that his hair is wet and messily pushed back. The only clothes on his body are a pair of athletic pants and black socks to match. His toned arms are crossed over his chest and one of his eyebrows are raised as he waits for you to finish. “Why did a trooper call me your partner? And why are you being so forward while we’re working. ?” You huffed, refusing to let his appearance weaken your defenses.

“I’m not sure what rock you lived on before Iris, but where I’m from ‘partner’ is a term of endearment for someone you’re in a relationship with. And as for ‘flirting’, I am just being affectionate with my partner. Which I am allowed to do.” He cocked his head to side and you watched as gears turned in his head.

Your heart swelled, with the little emotion he showed, that meant a great deal to you.

“You’ve been calling me ‘Cal’ which, now that we’re discussing it I’ve decided, it humanizes me a bit too much in front of my men. It’ll be Master Kestis from now on.” He had to be messing with you now.

“No way. It’s completely different, Cal.” You pressed back. There was no way you were calling him that, it was theatrical.

“What did I say on the ship? I can’t have you disrespecting me in front of my troopers.” His tone was playfully arrogant as he continued. “I can’t let them think of me in that light. ‘Master’ just rolls off the tongue though, don’t you think?”

You didn’t know what it was but you were starting to feel your ears buzzing and your heart started beating a little faster. Cal was stalking toward you eerily calm.

“Seems a bit dramatic, don’t you think?” You retort, subconsciously pressing further back into the chair.

“Hm, maybe, but it lets everyone in the room know who’s really in charge.” He insisted finally a few simple steps in front of you. He felt the anticipation seeping toward him from your position in that chair. The longer he was apart from you the more enticing your lips looked, the longing for them to be against his was almost unbearable.

“W-what are you implying?” You shuddered, his proximity making every ounce of audacity leave your body.

“Maker, that ship was so restricting.” He groaned, dropping to one knee in front of you. “I’d hate to let this opportunity go to waste.”

Without letting another second pass his hands slid up your thighs and gripped your hips, lifting you up and hauling you over his shoulder. He stood and carried you to the bed where he gently laid you down and crawled over top of you.

Your chest was now heaving as the Inquisitor above you scanned your face before dipping down to kiss you. Maker, you missed this. Your lips melded together with his in a euphoric bliss that made a small moan escape against his lips.

“Arms up.” His lips left yours and immediately began kissing down your jaw agonizingly slowly. He paused to take off your top, exposing your breasts and discarding it somewhere on the floor before continuing down your neck, nipping at the delicate flesh. His calloused hands ghosted over your stomach and began tugging on the waistband of your pants. Within seconds your legs were exposed to cool air that filled the room.

Next came rough fingers pulling lightly at your panties.

“May I, flower?” He hummed looking into your glazed eyes.

“Y-yes, Cal.” Your trembling fingers gripped the sheets lightly.

“What did I just say? Don’t tell me your memory is failing you, y/n.” He teased and lifted your hips slightly to slide off your panties. “It’s Master to you.”

You gasped at his words, his lips began peppering light kisses on your stomach and you felt wetness pooling between your legs. You wanted him to touch you so badly. His arms were holding your waist steady while he had his fun dragging out his path to your core.

He moved to separate your thighs and he let your legs rest over his broad shoulders, his hands over your stomach.

His head dipped down and placed light kisses on the insides of your thighs making your muscles tense and you whine out feeling impatient. He abruptly pulled you in closer, his mouth now mere centimetres from your core. His eyes look up at you as he places a kiss directly onto your clit.

Your eyes screw shut and rush your hands to his hair earning a chuckle from him.

“You’re so sensitive.” He mutters with his eyes taking in the view of your body writhing underneath his touch. His tongue gently draws a line from your slit and flicks against your bundle of nerves making you pull on his hair and moan.

“Do you want me to take care of you, my flower?” He cooed before lazily bringing his thumb to rub circles on your clit.

You opened your mouth to answer but a loud moan came out instead as he inserted a long finger into your core and began pumping it slowly inside of you.

“Before you answer, my sweet, remember who you’re talking to.” He warned. Your eyes rolled back in pleasure and your breathing was faltered.

“T-take care of me, p-please, Master.” You pleaded as you melted further at his touch.

“Was that so hard?” He taunted and finally returned his mouth to your core. He was relentlessly steady with his pace as he fingered you and sucked on your clit. It wasn’t long before you were pulling harshly on his hair as your orgasm neared.

“Fuck, master, I-,”You moaned loudly, earning a groan from Cal. You came hard at his mercy and he just wouldn’t stop. You were coming down from your high but you couldn’t take time to recover because Cal had all but ignored that you reached your peak.

“Oh gods, I-I came, Cal.” You breathed and the hand in his hair gripped it tightly, trying to signal he could stop.

“Yes, I know but I’m enjoying myself so if you don’t mind.” His wrist flicked forward and your hands were pressed onto the bed beside your head, your hips were held in place against the mattress, and he continued to lick and suck at your clit. He would pause to lick the juices from your slit before allowing two of his fingers to continue inside of you.

Your hands were craving to be back in Cal’s hair and it was evident in the loud moans and whimpers escaping past your lips. The urge to grind your hips closer to his face was screaming in your mind but your muscles weren’t able to carry out the motion. His soft lips grazed over your clit and you felt yourself come undone again.

You were whimpering and shaking, tears pricking your eyes at the overwhelming pleasure wracking your body. Cal placed one last kiss to your clit before pulling away and sitting up to admire your current state. You watched as he licked each of his fingers with his greenish yellow eyes staring back at yours.

You let your eyes close as your breathing returned to slight normalcy and you felt Cal climb over you and hover above. His lips were wet with your slick as he placed a tender kiss to your lips.

“How are you feeling, my flower?” He murmured, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek with care. Your adoring eyes opened to look at him.

“R-really good, Master.” You mewled leaning your face into his hand. He only hummed in response, continuing to admire your body as it lies beneath his, it wasn’t an image he wanted to forget.

“You’re gonna cum one more time for me, okay?”

You nodded and felt your muscles being released from his hold on them. Without hesitation you bring your hands up to his face and kiss his jaw.

He pulled away with a small smile before placing a quick peck onto your lips. He pulled the waistband of his sweats down and discarded them. Through his briefs you could see his fully hardened length.

He slid them off and reached down to grab your ankles, quickly pulling you to the edge of the bed. Your opened legs were stretched back as he found his place between the,.

“You want this too, right, y/n?” He asked with sincerity dripping from his voice.

“Y-yes, yes fuck, I do.” Your hands reached for his arms as his hand guided his length to your slit.

“Goodness, you’re so pretty.” He moaned and abruptly pushing his length inside of you. Your eyes rolled back and you moaned graphically at the feeling of him completely filling you up.

His hips rocked against yours with fluidity as his hands gripped your hips with moans falling from his lips.

Your nails were digging into his forearms for some kind of stability and your brain had turned to mush from the constant pleasure you’ve been receiving. Weak moans of his name fell past your lips.

You whined at his arm leaving your reach but it quickly ceased as small circles were being rubbed on your clit by his thumb.

“I can feel how close you are-fuck.” He stumbled over his words.

He closed his eyes and let his head drop with his pace becoming sloppy, his thrusts were harsh and he was hitting just the right spot. Just like that you were seeing white, your hands gripping the sheets as you all but screamed his name.

“Fuck, that’s a good girl, flower.” He moaned and he moved to once more to bury his face in your neck, hips sputtering as he reached his peak.

He placed sweet kisses against your neck and slowly pulled out of you.

“I was kidding, about the Master thing, in front of the troopers. I quite like it in bed, though.” He gave a quick wink and picked you up off the bed with his arm tucked under your knees. “We have to shower and get to bed soon. We have business on the other side of the planet tomorrow and this time you’re not going to be behind some screen.”

“Hey, about earlier when you said ‘intimacy bonds people’, what did you mean exactly?” You mumbled as the water began running.

“For people like me, people who use a different kind of power, we can feed off of the things we’re passionate about.” He hummed, his hold on you was firm and unwavering. “Our intimacy not only bonds our minds, our energy, but it makes my powers grow stronger.”

“I guess I have a lot to learn to about you and you’re powers.” You gave a breathy laugh. “What does a stronger bond look like?”

“Imagine not having to ask me for anything again because I already heard the thought echo in your mind or beings moons away and still feeling my hand touch yours.” He was smiling, a real genuine smile. Your heart flutters at the sight.

“And that idea makes you feel happy?”

“More than you know, flower.” He pressed one last kiss your lips. “More than you know.”

#cal kestis x reader #cal kestis #inquisitor!cal #calquisitor #jfo #star wars #smut #part 5 #iris

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silentprincess17 · 4 years ago

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Sometimes Things Have To Get Worse Before They Get Better

This is essentially a darker, heavier alternate take on Memory #7 - Blades of the Yiga. I wanted to write a fic with a competent Yiga Clan. (Yes you read that right). It is very angsty in the beginning and then becomes fluffy (hence the title!)

Summary: Link and Zelda have returned from Vah Naboris with Urbosa and have spent the night in Kara Kara Bazaar Inn. Link wakes up and finds her missing.

Cue the angst.

This story is complete and I will post each chapter daily on here but you can read the whole thing on AO3

Rating: Mature (Graphic descriptions of violence) Pairing: Link/Zelda (Zelink) Characters: Link, Zelda, The Yiga Clan, Master Kohga

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Chapter 4: What happens in a desert at night? It gets cold. Exactly.

As night descended in the desert Link started to feel the chill. His wound throbbed annoyingly and normally by now he would have had at least a meal, if a healing potion wasn’t readily available, and he would be fit as a fiddle, with only a memory of the injury and its associated pain. But he hadn’t eaten a thing since last night, and his stomach had rumbled countless times throughout the evening until it just gave up, accepting its loss for the day. The other thing that was deeply disturbing him (other than the absence of the sword) was that his waist felt alarmingly bare without his pouches and he kept subconsciously trying to reach down and pull out some wood and a flint piece to build a fire, or any assortment of fruits he kept on hand, but he didn’t have anything. He mostly wished they’d at least let him keep the food pouch.

He sighed. He needed to find a way to get them out of here, otherwise they’d develop dehydration within the next day, probably, as they were in the desert. Secondary to that would be starvation, tertiary, infection, oh no wait. He shuddered as an icy sharp breeze whistled through his tunic and seemingly straight into his newly-sealed wound. Hypothermia would be a contender too, made all too obvious by the shivering Princess next to him.

She was his main concern, she always was. He thanked the Goddesses she at least had a thick starchy undershirt inside her blouse, which should help her keep warm, but those leggings were not as sturdy, and she kept on rubbing her calves together, no doubt trying to use friction to generate some heat. And she hadn’t eaten anything either, which made him feel doubly worse. Even when they were fighting, she always appreciated the food he made.

In the end, he gave up, he didn’t know what else he could do to make the situation better, so, he pulled off his Champion’s Tunic and spread it across her legs. Yes, it was a little ripped and had a dribble of blood down the back where he’d been injured, but really it was the closest thing she’d get to a blanket, as the rags in the back of the cell were filthy and Goddesses knew what sort of infections they carried.

She immediately protested as he assumed she would, “No Link! I can’t have you die of hypothermia! And you need to keep your wound warm.” She tried to shove it back into his hands. “Besides, I have a plan for how to get warm that doesn’t involve you stripping.”

He blushed. He hadn’t meant –

She started to laugh, and he awkwardly fisted the shirt, pulling it on and then looking away from her deviously sparkling eyes.

No chance of that happening though, because she shuffled closer. He’d kept his distance from her as was proper, up until now. He’d tried to separate them as much as he could, considering the cell itself wasn’t that large. But she got up and plopped down next to him with little decorum. She stayed like that for a while, their shoulders touching, and alarm bells began to ring in Link's head, as he wondered what exactly she had planned. She anxiously fisted her hands, before exhaling heavily, almost as though she was gathering her courage, and moved towards him, lifting his good arm over her so it was now draped over her shoulder. She shimmied a little closer still, and wrapped her arm across his back, making sure she was positioned below his injury, and she gently pressed her head into his shoulder. Link's heart rate shot up, because, essentially, the Princess of Hyrule was now unashamedly hugging him. Him! Hylia above.

And whilst he stiffened, all his muscles tensed, his eyes wide with shock at her boldness, that move she just pulled did wonders for Link’s temperature. He immediately felt like he’d arrived on Death Mountain, with no fireproof elixir. Oh yes, he was burning alive, and it felt so good after the chilly breeze that nipped at his skin and seemingly inside his back with the fresh injury. But reality hit, and the impropriety, the improperness of this entire set up-

No, he couldn’t very well risk any harm to her reputation!

He tried to gently push her away- “Link, will you stop moving. It’s uncomfortable. And I know what you’re thinking of and its useless because who in this Goddess-forsaken cell will go and report to the King at how improper we’re being.” Well, that was true he supposed. He relaxed just a little, even if he was still somewhat hyperventilating over their current position. He felt her smile into his shoulder, and he had to refrain from doing something stupid like brush her hair behind her ear so he could see her better. “No one, exactly, so just, please-” she stopped, huffing angrily as if he was a stubborn gear that she just couldn’t place appropriately, “And it’s not like we’re actually doing this with any intention other than to avoid developing hypothermia. This is simply a survival necessity Sir Link. Surely you can agree there.”

Against his better judgement he did. There wasn’t much else they could do. And he could feel how cold she was, now she was pressed so close. Also, wasn’t it part of his duties to make sure she was kept safe? Okay, so he’d majorly failed there, but he could at least try to get her warm. So, he wrapped his arm around her proper, and he just had to take stock for a minute. Barely a day ago she was half-shouting at him for turning up at Vah Naboris, uninvited. Because he had the sword and she didn’t have her sealing powers. And now she was practically glued to his side, and he had lost the sword. Touché.

But still, he didn’t… entirely mind the change in her demeanour. Surely it would be better if they were friends instead of enemies? She hesitantly placed her other arm across his abdomen and he almost jumped from how icy her fingers were, quickly moving to wrap his other hand over hers, rubbing at her sleeve to try to generate some heat.

No, he thought to himself, he rather liked this new arrangement.

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vex-bittys · 4 years ago

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Imagine the Possum-bilities: An Underfell Story (part 3)

The Possum Posse

The world of Underfell has gone to the possums!

Warning: child death mention

----------

Gloomfanger’s brood of tiny opossums easily integrated themselves into the daily lives of the skeleton brothers. Their instinctual desire to climb and cling to other living creatures proved endearing to everyone in the household, and there was no shortage of willing baby possum perches. The baby possums began their supreme reign over the home by electing the local regent, Doomfanger, as their second mother.

From the moment that they’d first emerged from Gloomfanger’s pouch, eyes barely opened and legs still wobbly, Doomfanger fascinated them with her silky white fur, rumbling purr, and insistent grooming. Eight small passengers could barely cram themselves comfortably atop Gloomfanger’s coarsely-furred back, but split equally between the cat and the possum, the baby Gloomies (as Red called them) enjoyed a roomy and luxurious mode of transportation.

It wasn’t until the baby possums were quite a bit bigger and significantly less fragile that they were allowed to clamber onto the other members of the household, but as soon as the first miniature pink possum hands wrapped around the skeleton brothers’ pant legs, the little possums secured their positions in Red and Edge’s hearts. The gruff brothers, unused to expressing positive emotions, both denied the tears of joy in their sockets, blaming allergies and invisible onions as the baby Gloomies played on their new skeleton jungle gyms.

“hey, Boss, check it out,” said Red one day, opening his jacket like a flasher to show seven little possums hanging upside down by their tails from various ribs. Gloomfanger herself peered over the waistband of Red’s shorts, where she was nestled in the bowl of his pelvis. Edge sighed.

“THAT’S VULGAR,” he scolded, arms folded across his chest. A very small baby possum head popped up from the folds of his tattered scarf and chattered a scolding of her own. The only female in the brood happened to prefer Edge’s scarf over any other perch, and Edge allowed her unprecedented access to it, and to his well-guarded affections.

The rambunctious baby Gloomies grew quickly. In order to tell them apart more easily, Edge made each small possum a differently colored bandana. The female of the group received a bandana in the same color as Doomfanger’s jeweled collar- a delicate rose pink just a few shades lighter than Edge’s magic. The other possums, a rowdy bunch of boys who loved greasy Grillby’s food as much as Red and Gloomfanger did, wore vibrant shades of yellow, orange, green, violet, midnight blue, pale blue, and dark red.

Admiring his handiwork, Edge scowled when Red announced that he had also chosen names for the entire brood. The tall skeleton had a feeling that Red’s choices would not meet his very high standards, and Red proved him right, holding up a possum in a green bandana and declaring with authority: “Dumpster.”

One by one, Red lifted the baby possums, Lion King style, and proclaimed their terrible names to an appalled audience of one.

The possum wearing the yellow bandana: “Rubbish.”

The possum in the violet bandana: “Trashy.”

The possum sporting the orange bandana: “Debris.”

The possums who had midnight blue and pale blue bandanas: “Filth” and “Scraps.”

Finally, Red lifted the baby possum wearing his namesake, the red bandana. “this little guy’s called Slop, or Junior for short.”

Edge swatted Red’s hand away from his beloved scarf-dwelling baby possum. “YOU CAN’T NAME THEM ALL AFTER GARBAGE,” he shouted, not wanting to hear the horrible name that his brother had chosen for his favorite possum of the litter.

“of course not, Boss,” said Red with a mischievous grin. “the little girl is called-”

Edge clenched his sharp teeth and braced himself for the mental onslaught of whatever Red would say next. “IF YOU CALL HER SCUMBELINA, I WILL END YOU.”

“- Anastasia.”

Edge blinked, and Red howled with laughter.

----------

Edge volunteered to take the young possums with him to the Capitol to give his brother and Gloomfanger a day to themselves to relax and stuff their faces with greasy junk food. The Captain of Snowdin’s Royal Guard would be meeting Undyne and the King for their annual status report. Edge tucked the eight little furballs into his armor, thinking that they would spend the entire time dozing off to his boring reports about inventory, training, and guard rotations. Of course nothing ever went that smoothly when Gloomfanger’s little ones were involved.

Anastasia, ever the dignified young lady, climbed up and nestled herself in Edge’s scarf underneath his chin and stayed quiet and out-of-sight during the visit. Her brothers, however, decided that they wanted to see what was happening around them, not snooze through the experience in Edge’s stuffy armor.

The first sign of trouble came when Edge felt stiff little whiskers tickling his ribs. He managed to turn a very unbecoming giggle into a much less embarrassing clearing of his nonexistent throat. Undyne was familiar enough with her skeleton counterpart to know something was amiss, but she chose to observe the situation instead of interrupting the report. Her instinct for hilarious chaos turned out to be right.

It didn’t take long for a triangular little face to appear through the armhole of Edge’s armor. Hairless ears brushed the underside of Edge’s humerus, making him yelp, a sound that could not be disguised as anything else. Undyne barely held back a laugh. The King regarded the skeleton with a frown. Edge’s mind raced, desperately reaching for any plausible explanation.

“I JUST REMEMBERED THAT I LEFT A LASAGNA IN THE OVEN,” he offered lamely. The King’s eyes narrowed skeptically, and Undyne sputtered.

“He really cares about his lasagna,” Undyne added unhelpfully.

More possum faces pushed their way to the potential exits at the neck and arms of Edge’s armor, and their movements made him twitch and spasm in a strange parody of dancing. Undyne doubled over, filling the halls with her raucous laughter. In response to the unfamiliar noise, the baby possums wrapped their tails around Edge’s arms, hissing in fear.

“What is the meaning of this behavior?” bellowed King Asgore, a monster to be feared and respected.

Edge spread his arms, and seven baby possums dropped into upside down hanging positions. Edge looked like he wore a fringed cape made of scruffy two-toned fur. Undyne rolled on the palace floor. Asgore leaned close to the possums to inspect them. Anastasia climbed out of Edge’s scarf to stand boldly in front of the massive ruler of the Underground. She chattered aggressively at Asgore, and there could be no mistaking her protective stance or ferocious noises. The feisty female possum would not allow Edge to come to harm under her watchful button eyes.

A slow smile spread across Asgore’s severe features. He chuckled and stepped back. Satisfied at having driven off the threat, Anastasia returned to her hiding place in Edge’s scarf folds. He gave her tiny head a gentle scritch with one sharp phalange.

“I see Snowdin’s Junior Guard is coming along nicely,” the King commented. “Of course, as Royal Guard members, these creatures are under my protection, and I trust you, Captain, to make sure all of the monsters of Snowdin know it.”

“YES, SIR,” replied Edge, silently thinking that this was the exact opposite of the way a royal guard actually worked but refusing to argue with his monarch, especially after such a gracious declaration.

“Do make sure you bring them along when you make your next report, Captain. You are dismissed.”

“YES, SIR.”

As Asgore turned and walked away, Edge spotted a very brave young possum, Scraps if he remembered correctly (and he always did), clinging to one of King Asgore’s impressive horns. Though the fearsome ruler pretended not to notice his illicit passenger, he proceeded to walk with exceptional care so as not to jostle the tiny creature. He also murmured to Scraps once he believed himself to be out of earshot of the two Captains.

Undyne laid on the floor, gasping for air. When she finally composed herself, she grinned an unsettling toothy grin at Edge. “The big softy,” she commented, and she would know since Asgore had adopted her when she was still very young. “He hasn’t looked at another creature like that since I graduated from stripes!”

----------

From the moment Red stepped across the threshold into Grillby’s restaurant, he could feel the purple fire elemental’s seething ire. His hunger overpowered what dismal common sense he possessed, so he sauntered up to the bar anyway and plopped his bony behind on an empty stool.

Grillby glowered at Red so hard that Red might’ve expected him to burst into flames… if he wasn’t already consumed by them on a daily basis. “Unless you’re here to pay your tab, Red,” growled Grillby, leaving the threat open ended.

Red blinked at the fire elemental with exaggerated innocence. “my bro’s going to pay it when he gets back from guard duty,” he explained.

The glower and purple flames intensified. “That’s what you said last time,” growled Grillby.

“yeah, but i was lying that time.”

“And are you lying this time?”

“probably. anyway, can i get a burger and an extra large order of fries?”

The pure audacity of the skeleton in front of him struck Grillby speechless. Before he could recover enough coherent communication skills to tell Red exactly where he could go and what he could do with himself once he got there in extreme graphic detail, eight small possums emerged from Red’s jacket and scurried across the counter to an abandoned plate of fries. The little ones picked up the now-cold fries in their little pink possum hands and nibbled them delicately, eyes half-closed as they savored the flavor.

Any monster who wasn’t as familiar with the expressions of Grillby’s not-quite-face as Red wouldn’t have noticed the agitation giving way and the sharp-edged flames softening. Grillby whirled and entered the kitchen, returning a moment later with a plate of stir-fried vegetables and a small order of fries. He cleared the plate of leftovers from the counter and set the freshly-made dish in front of the hungry baby possums. The possums descended on the food with gusto, making adorable small noises of pleasure as they tasted the gourmet cuisine.

Gloomfanger’s head popped up from the collar of Red’s sweater, and a smile rippled to life in the purple fire of Grillby’s mouth. “This must be the mother. A moment please, m’lady.” Grillby disappeared into the kitchen again and again he returned with a plate of hot fries and a burger with extra vegetables and no bun. He placed this offering in front of Gloomfanger who gave it an investigative sniff before picking it up and eating it like a hairy miniature Red.

Red reached for one of the fries on Gloomfanger’s plate, and Grillby slapped his hand away. “That food is for the mother of this adorable brood, not a degenerate lazybones who doesn’t pay his tab,” snapped Grillby.

“but what about my order?” pouted Red, watching the possum family chirp happily as they enjoyed their meals.

“Your order? Red, you’re lucky I don’t toss your free-loading ass out into the nearest snow poff.” Grillby folded his arms across his chest, but once again hunger outweighed sense when it came to a certain skeleton.

“i brought the possums to visit you though,” Red wheedled. Grillby’s eyes narrowed behind his ever-present (even indoors) sunglasses, or at least, Red assumed that what passed for Grillby’s eyes narrowed behind his sunglasses based on the low and dangerous tone of his voice. Red couldn’t actually see through the reflective material at all, but he knew Grillby fairly well after so many years of unpaid and antagonistic patronage.

“I suppose.” Grillby drew out the word suppose, letting Red know that he agreed but with extreme reluctance and utmost disdain.

“I might even be willing to forgive your tab provided that you bring these tiny guests to try out a few new recipes that I have in mind for them.” As Grillby spoke, little Trashy, the possum with the violet bandana, waddled up to him and gave his forearm a nuzzle. The tips of Grillby’s flames flushed blue, and he made a quick escape to the kitchen to hide the fire elemental equivalent of a blush.

Thinking that Grillby couldn’t see him from the other room, Red snuck a fry off of Gloomfanger’s plate only to see flames belch from the double doors leading to the cooking area and hear Grillby’s warning growl:

“RED!”

Busted.

----------

Usually, Red left Gloomfanger and her brood at home during his sentry duties, duties that his brother had signed him up for under the pretense of forcing him to “contribute to monster society” though Edge actually feared that without a task or a purpose, Red might fall down as so many other monsters did. Red was actually grateful for his brother’s strong-armed recruitment; it was during one of his sentry patrols that he’d found a massive ornate door hidden away in Snowdin Forest.

Red had knocked upon the door, not expecting an answer. He’d gotten one, though- a reedy female voice calling out the response “Who’s there?” Unable to resist, Red tried out one of his favorite knock-knock jokes.

“wooden shoe.”

A pause.

Then “Wooden shoe who?” spoken by the same female voice.

“wooden shoe like to know.”

Red knew the monster on the other side of the door couldn’t see him, but he grinned in eager anticipation, waiting for them to get the joke. The voice laughed a moment later, musical laughter that left Red wondering if he should perhaps try another joke.

He knocked again.

Sometimes he told jokes to the voice behind the door to the Ruins. Sometimes he just talked, passing the time by sharing his life experiences. The voice rarely spoke about itself, though it occasionally described happenings in the Ruins that he might find amusing. Red had a sneaking suspicion that the voice might belong to a certain missing Queen, but he didn’t bring it up, not wanting to upset her and lose his audience for the terrible jokes he thought up in his ample free time. His brother sure didn’t appreciate them!

Red even told the voice behind the door about Gloomfanger and her babies. The voice became demure, asking to meet the little ones and sighing wistfully. Red waited until the baby possums were old enough to make the journey through the frigid forest before bringing them to meet his partner in crimes against comedy. Anastasia had opted to do her civic duty alongside Edge, but the male possums wiggled with excitement at the sight of new surroundings. For the first time since he’d discovered it, the door to the Ruins opened, just a crack, just enough for Red to see a yellow eye peering out, watching the little possums wrestle in the snow.

Rubbish, bright yellow bandana flying like a flag behind him, broke away from his brothers and darted through the open doorway. The Ruins door slammed shut behind him, and Red leapt to his feet in a panic. He pounded on the door, causing echoes to boom through the caverns of the Ruins like subterranean thunder. A sickly sweet singsong voice called out a familiar response.

“Who’s there?” The words left a sinister silence after they were spoken.

“gimme my possum back, lady!” Red was in no mood for knock-knock jokes.

The chiming laughter from behind the door was tinged with madness now. “Give me my possum back who?”

“you,” snarled Red. “you gimme my possum back.”

Nobody answered. Red stood dumbfounded in the snow, Gloomfanger and her six unstolen little ones standing in a half-circle behind him. Unsure what to do next, Red pulled out his phone and called his brother for help.

Beyond the door, Toriel, the missing Queen, scooped Rubbish up and cradled him in her arms. The drowsy baby possum snuggled against her chest, letting her heartbeat lull him to sleep after the exertion or romping with his siblings in the snow. His prehensile tail, bright pink and hairless, curled around her wrist like a living bracelet.

“Let’s go to my house, my child,” the unhinged monster crooned. “I’ll bake you a pie, and you’ll be so happy that you’ll never leave me.”

Neither Gloomfanger nor her children had ever been known to turn down a free meal, so when Toriel deposited the little possum onto her kitchen table and began assembling ingredients, Rubbish tucked his feet underneath him and took a quick nap in the loaf position that he had learned from Doomfanger. Toriel hummed as she baked, and the kitchen became pleasantly warm, though the fragrance of baked goods was nowhere to be found.

When the timer on the oven chimed, Rubbish opened his shiny black eyes, watching Toriel don oven mitts and retrieve the pie. She placed it on the table in front of him. The crust appeared to be made of mud like substance, most likely mud by the smell of it. Snails, stunned by the heat of the oven, recovered themselves and attempted to crawl away from their pie pan prison.

Fortunately, possums regard snails as a delicacy, and Rubbish unfolded himself from his loaf position and trotted across the table to hunt the sluggish creatures. Toriel beamed at him like any proud mother would at a precocious child crunching up all of his snails at dinnertime. After Rubbish had finished his snail snack and groomed his long whiskers, Toriel picked him up and carried him into the den. Sitting in front of the fireplace, she opened a photo album, showing the pictures to Rubbish and describing them one by one.

“This is my first child, Asriel, and my adopted child, a human called Chara. They’re dead now, of course.” Toriel spoke in a cheerful voice despite her macabre words. “This child came along later. I found her in the Ruins, but she’s dead now too. My husband killed her, you know. I decided to move to the Ruins to make sure no other young ones would meet the same fate, but they all do, my child. They all do. All my children leave me no matter what I do to stop them.” Toriel stroked the pages of the photo album wistfully, lost in memory. Rubbish put his small pink paw over her hand as if consoling her.

“I even tried training my children so that they would be strong enough to defeat my husband and escape,” Toriel whispered conspiratorially. “Alas, that child also died.” Toriel remembered the scorch marks, all that remained of that particular child, and how long it had taken to scrub them from the cobblestones of the Ruins. No need to worry her newly adopted possum with that detail. Rubbish would not ever leave. She would see to that. Doors weren’t only for keeping unwanted visitors out…

Outside, in Snowdin Forest, the skeleton brothers sent flurries of futile bone attacks smashing into the door to the Ruins. They even summoned their Gast Blasters with equally nonexistent results. These doors were meant to stay closed, and stay closed they did. Gloomfanger was equal parts unimpressed by Red and Edge’s magic and dauntless when it came to recovering her lost little one.

Assembling her seven tiny troops, Gloomfanger walked right up to the heavy doors, gave them a precursory sniff, and began to dig. The possum excavated the frozen ground like a piece of heavy construction equipment being expertly operated by a seasoned professional, and her babies pushed the freshly turned soil out of the way to make room for more. In a matter of minutes, Gloomfanger and her brood had disappeared into the tunnel under the door on their rescue mission, leaving the skeleton brothers standing slack-jawed with amazement in the forest behind them.

When she emerged in the Ruins, Gloomfanger shook the loose dirt from her coarse salt-and-pepper fur. She helped each of her seven babies out of the tunnel, giving them a quick grooming as well. Once all eight possums were suitably presentable, they stormed the proverbial castle, seeking out the Queen who had possum-napped Rubbish.

Toriel faced down the mother possum who had entered her home, seven small soldiers trailing behind her; the former Queen was not a monster to be trifled with. Gloomfanger’s tail shot straight up in the air, she opened her jaws- a pink cavern lined with needle teeth like white stalactites- and emitted an unearthly screech. Rubbish waddled over to her, and she calmed down, chattering at him and checking him for injuries or poor grooming. Toriel’s face softened. She recognized a distraught mother when she saw one.

Toriel backed away, resigning herself to losing this latest adopted child as well. Gloomfanger darted in front of her, meeting dejected yellow eyes with her own glittering black gaze. She clicked her teeth at Toriel, then led her entire brood of baby possums over to climb on the goat monster’s robes. Toriel shuffled to her armchair, and the parade of possums followed.

When Toriel brought out her photo album, every single possum found a perch on her lap or shoulders (with Rubbish in the seat of honor atop her head) and basked in the dancing light and comforting warmth of the fire. Toriel poured her heartache out to the animals, and they listened with quiet compassion. Finally, the Queen closed her book and sighed.

“So you see, my children, you must stay with me,” she explained gently. Gloomfanger lifted her head and chuffed. As Gloomfanger rose from her seat, her brood of baby possums followed. Gloomfanger led them single file to the tunnel under the door, the tunnel that led out of the Ruins, out of Toriel’s life, and into the forest which had claimed so many of her charges.

“No,” begged Toriel. “If you leave me, I’ll be alone.”

Gloomfanger tilted her head in the universal animal sign of confusion, then vanished into the tunnel, followed by her little ones.

Toriel returned to her empty house, numb. She had not stopped Gloomfanger because Rubbish and his siblings were her rightful children, yet their loss left Toriel cold and empty, just like her house. Toriel extinguished the fire, preferring to sit in the encompassing darkness, the shadows wrapping her like a shroud while she wept. Everyone always left her in the end, and boss monsters did not fall down. She would exist in this misery and loneliness until time forgot her as the rest of monsterkind had.

The next day, despite Red’s disapproval, Gloomfanger and the Gloomy brigade tagged along with him to his sentry station. Red sat on the bench with a meaningful look at the possum, but she kept waddling along, babies in tow, towards the door to the Ruins. Red hurried after them just in time to see them entering the tunnel. Red shouted after them, but the last tiny pink tail tip had already disappeared from sight.

Toriel snapped out of her cataonic depression when she felt tiny paws patting at her legs. Nine angular faces stared up at her. She leapt from her chair and headed to the kitchen to prepare her children one of her famous pies. She referred to it as Butterscotch Pie, but Gloomfanger and her babies knew snails when they smelled them… not that they minded. After wolfing down as many snails as nine eternally hungry possums could eat, the visitors followed Toriel into her den to enjoy the fire and listen to the tragic stories that accompanied the appearance of the photo album.

Once more, Gloomfanger and her babies returned home to the skeleton brothers’ house in Snowdin, and once more, Toriel despaired. The pattern continued for weeks. Toriel’s nerves frayed. Each time the possum and her brood left the Ruins, the missing Queen believed that they would never return, yet they did. As time passed, Toriel began to expect the visits. At first her mind anticipated the visits with the bleak notion that surely they would stop at some point. Eventually, she was able to look forward to seeing her small, furry children without the nagging doubts.

One day, during the photos-and-bereavement session, Gloomfanger pointedly knocked the photo album to the floor. She waited, with her babies behind her until Toriel stooped to pick it up then waddled very slowly toward the tunnel that the possums used to travel between the Ruins and the forest. Curious, Toriel followed them, and this time, the baby possums trailed behind her instead of their mother.

When Gloomfanger reached the tunnel, she stopped. Toriel stopped too and stared at the possum. Gloomfanger turned to the giant door with its elaborate embellishments, puffed out her fur and hissed at it. Toriel and the young possums stood in contemplative silence for a moment. “What are you trying to tell me, my child?” Toriel finally asked, though she already suspected what the possum’s intentions might be.

Gloomfanger headbutted the door.

“You believe that I should leave the Ruins and return to a life amongst other monsters,” Toriel stated uneasily. It wasn’t a question, but Gloomfanger answered with an encouraging chirp anyway.

Toriel turned her attention to the photo album clutched in her hands. She had fled to the Ruins to escape from grief and loss, but heartache pursued her, even here. Isolation had done her no favors.

“I can’t face them,” she explained, voicing her fears aloud for perhaps the first time ever. “I can’t bear their pity or their heartless violence.” After spending so long convincing herself that constant abandonment and endless longing were her punishments for her failures as a mother, she did not know how to think differently. Gloomfanger, ever the wise and perceptive possum, trotted over and nuzzled Toriel’s leg.

Toriel’s troubled mind spun. She could choose. She could choose to hold on to her losses, to martyr herself by suffering alone until that torment consumed everything she ever was or dreamed to be, or she could choose to let go. She could choose to move forward. She could reintegrate herself into monster society. She could risk heartbreak, but she could also regain companionship to balance it.

Gloomfanger waited. Slowly, hesitantly, Toriel laid her photo album down on the smooth, familiar stones, giving the faded cover one last caress, then the goat monster faced the door, pushed it open with conviction, and stepped out into the cold Snowdin Forest sunlight.

Hope can be found in the unlikeliest places and in the most unusual forms. Some hold hope deep inside of them where it can never be lost or broken, and some look for it all of their lives without realizing that it's right there in front of them. The monsters of the Underfell Underground lacked all hope, inward and outward, until it arrived in the form of an unkempt, garbage-eating possum named Gloomfanger.

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#vexy writes #underfell #fellbros #underfell sans #underfell doomfanger #underfell papyrus #underfell undyne #underfell asgore #underfell grillby #underfell toriel #uf!sans #doomfanger #gloomfanger #uf!papyrus #uf!undyne #uf!asgore #uf!grillby #fellby #uf!toriel

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katherinemallory · 4 years ago

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#8 Heart in a sling

This is how we got there... #1 #2 #3 #4 #5 #6 #7

I stayed in bed a little longer than usual. I still couldn’t get used to the thought of going back on active service. It was both exciting and paralyzing. And apart from that, there was no need to hurry, as I was to meet M at 1 P.M.

Still lying in bed in my pyjamas, I grabbed my phone and searched for my chat with Bond. I wanted to let him know how things were going.

You were right. M wants to see me today.

Told ya. Any plans for today? How about dinner with a handsome 00? xx

I hesitated. I’ve already accepted who my real love interest was... and it wasn’t Bond. I don’t want to give him false hope, but... it’s not a crime to eat a dinner with a man, is it? This doesn’t mean I have to marry him, I thought.

Sure. See ya there xx

I smiled to myself and unwillingly went out of my bed. I did everything lazily, enjoying the last moments of my freedom, as I knew it would end at the exact moment I enter the SIS building. I chose a grey suit and left the apartment when the time was right.

It was no easy task to find a parking spot, which heralded an intense day at the MI6.

I wondered if M has been busy since he came back to work. There must have been a lot to deal with. I would help him with *anything* if I only could... and he wouldn’t regret that.

When I stepped into my office, I went straight to the window and opened the dark blue curtains. It wasn’t the most intimate place you could imagine, but I missed it so much while I was spending my time alone during the arrest. Lots of natural light came from the window and I felt almost like at home. I sat behind my desk and began to sign the necessary documents confimring my return.

Out of the blue, someone knocked on the door. I jumped out of my chair, genuinely scared, as I didn't expect anyone to interrupt me.

"Come in," I said after a few seconds, still signing the papers.

"Hi, Katherine. It's me... do you have a minute?"

I looked up and saw Amanda.

"I even have two," I replied, pointing to the small couch next to the window. "Please, have a seat."

"Thank you," she said as she sat on the couch, placing her hand on her knees, as if she just came to the headmaster’s office and had to make excuses for her bad behaviour at school.

“It’s good to see you again, Amanda. I hope you feel better than the last time we talked...”

“Yes, Kath, thank you,” she stammered, glancing around. “Actually, it's not... It's not easy for me, but I'm going to confess to something..."

"Is it something about our mission in Geneva...?"

I observed her, patiently waiting for the full story.

"Well, yes and no, I suppose... the thing is...” she looked at my face and then at her hands that moved to her thighs, “that... Katherine... I'm not going back on active service,” she said and looked me again in the eyes. “I declined."

I opened my mouth in astonishment. I was just blown away.

"You did *what*? But why...?"

"I feel like it was all my fault. I just can't stop thinking about it, I can't forget how helpless I felt that day we almost got captured," she replied, and sighed. "You know... that I can't go back if I won't consult our psychologist... which I don't feel like doing right now... And apart from that I'm getting older. You can't pretend to be a successful operative forever..."

I was aware of the fact that she had a point there as she was one of the oldest agents in the section, even though she didn't look like that at all. But I couldn't imagine the section without her. I barely knew Amanda, but we got along really well quickly.

"... that is why I will ask M to reassign me. For the sake of my mental health."

For a brief moment we sat there in silence, listening to the clock’s ticking.

"Amanda... if I'm honest with you," I replied, "I don't know what to say... I'm shocked! I had *no* idea it affected you that much... I mean, obviously it was a difficult moment for both of us, but does it really have to... be an end?"

She rubbed her hands.

"Yes, Kath. I think my time's up."

...

Later that day I catched the elevator to the last floor just a few minutes before 1 P.M. I was a little nervous, not because I was unsure of my physical or psychological shape, but because I couldn’t wait to see Mallory. How does he feel? And what does he expect from me now? I was one of the double-0s suspected of being responsible for this attack after all...

I went through the long corridor and opened the door to Eve’s office.

"Hi, Eve!"

"Hi, Kath! It's good to have you back," replied Eve with a huge smile on her face. "I'd love to chat a little more, but he's ready for you..."

When Eve said "he", I felt my cheeks flush.

"Thanks," I replied and went on to open the maroon door.

And there he was. Relaxed, sitting in his armchair and casually going through the files on his desk. It must have been a bit uncomfortable, since his left arm was in a sling, but he didn’t seem to be bothered at all.

I went closer to his desk and stopped in front of it, crossing my hands behind my back.

"How's the arm, sir?"

"Oh, it's fine. It will get better," he replied as he stood up and leaned his free hand at his desk.

The sling was hardly visible, because it was nearly of the same colour as Mallory's double-breasted chalk stripe suit - very dark, but not necessarily black. But what has really caught my attention was the tie. For the first time I've seen Mallory wearing a *red* slik tie.

His words, combined with this look had quite an effect on me. I realized it and wanted to temper my feelings, but I failed miserably. A cheerful: “That’s wonderful to hear, sir,” got away from me. “We’ve been waiting to see you again!” I crowed, unable to hide my excitement.

Mallory noticed it. He looked at me curiously, forcing a mild smile. His eyebrows rose, as if he wanted me to elaborate, but I got so scared of my own opennes that I immediately withdrew.

“What I mean is that... it’s great to work with you again... sir,” I said and paused. “I suppose you’ve already seen my psychological evaluation. 002 reporting for duty,” I added, trying to sound as professional as possible.

Mallory frowned thoughtfully, and then smiled again, this time more naturally.

“Since we’re both back... I could use your help,” he said. His voice was casual. “Would you mind taking my jacket off? I feel a little warm in there.”

As he spoke these words, I realized that this request was not an official part of our meeting. Not that I mind it, I thought, and walked over to his side of the desk.

I’m not sure how it happened, but my mind played a little joke on me. I got reminded of my recent dream. Only me and Mallory in his office, late at night, kissing on his desk... oh, what I wouldn’t give to feel his arms around me right now, I thought. Strangely, I didn't fully trust myself at that exact moment, fearing that instead of helping Mallory with taking off only his jacket, I would start to passionately unbutton his shirt.

I came closer to him and hesitated.

“Go ahead,” Mallory encouraged me.

I cradled his arm in my hands and took it off the sling. Then I asked Mallory to turn his back on me, still holding his hand, which caused me to move closer to him - so close that I could smell his cologne. Then I touched the top of his jacket and helped Mallory to slowly take it off. I took his left hand as gently as I could and put it in a sling again.

His green eyes, clear as crystal, met mine when I looked up.

“Will that be all right?” I asked, realizing we were standing only inches away from each other.

“Yes,” replied Mallory calmly. “Thank you, Katherine.”

It surprised me that he has called me by my real name again, but I didn't have a chance to analyze it for long. A light winked on the phone. Mallory answered the call, putting the phone on speaker. I heard Eve’s voice.

"I’m sorry to interrupt you, sir, but..."

"Yes, Miss Moneypenny?"

"... 007 is here."

Mallory looked at me suggestively.

"Thank you. Send him in,” Mallory answered curtly, still looking at me.

I got the message and went to the other side of the desk just in time. The door has opened, showing James Bond entering the office.

"Welcome, 007," said Mallory. "Please join us."

Bond came to the desk and stood beside me. Mallory was standing as well.

"This one’s going to be brief. I'm glad you're both available, since I have a special mission for you,” said Mallory in his semi-friendly tone, and sat down. “It's about doing a liitle *show* to confuse our enemies. Perhaps it’s not the most important task you can ever get... but it might turn out to be... quite enjoyable."

He put a hand flat down on his desk and continued.

"I need you two to pose as a married couple during a poker tournament in Casino de Monte-Carlo. Play poker well, observe, and intrigue a few men. You’ll find all the necessary details about them in the files...”

He lowered his eyes to the desk in search for the files.

“Oh, and the Treasury will provide you the money, so try not to lose everything,” he added sarcastically, staring directly at us.

Good old Mallory is back, I thought.

"You’ve still got a few free days before your flight, so use this time well. Think about the tactics and any equipment you’ll need... This mission isn’t about any specific result, rather just an investigation, but you should remember to be careful.”

Neither of us answered him, signalizing that we understood.

“If you haven’t got any questions then... that’s all for today. Thank you.”

“Thank you, sir,” replied Bond and came to the desk to take the files.

“And Katherine, James... visit Q later today. He’s got some surprises for you," said Mallory in his deep, smooth voice.

We both nodded and left M’s office. I’ve stolen a quick glance at Mallory when I was closing the door. He smiled at me for the third time that day.

"James, could you please wait for me downstairs? I'll join you in a minute," I said when we're about to say goodbye to Eve.

"Anything for you," answered Bond - clearly pleased with our conversation with Mallory - and left Eve's office, closing the door behind him.

Even though both doors were closed, I lowered my voice, making sure that nor Mallory nor Bond could hear us.

"Eve, why didn't you tell me that Bond would be here as well?"

"Oh, you didn’t know this?" asked Eve. "I thought that M informed you both yesterday..."

"He didn't."

She looked quite offended.

"Well, I'm not a fortuneteller, I can't predict everything..."

"Oh, I’m sorry Eve, I didn’t mean it,” I said, shaking my head. “Actually, I don't need you to predict anything," I added, whispering. "But I could use your help. Do one more thing for me, will you?"

"What do you have in mind?"

I was just about to answer Eve's question when suddenly the door opened. It turned out that James Bond didn’t go downstair as I asked him to. He pointed to his watch.

"Kath, are you coming? The minute has passed already."

"Yes, James, I'm coming!" I exclaimed and grabbed a pen that was lying on the desk. I carelessly wrote Eve a little note:

Spy on M for me

I pointed to one of my fingers, trying to suggest what I mean. Eve managed to give me a shocking look before I was taken out of her office by Bond who refused to wait any longer and took me by the hand.

"What was so important that it took you so long?" he asked when we were walking down the corridor. He was still holding me by the hand.

"I was telling Eve how excited I am to go on a mission with you," I replied cheerfully and kissed him on the cheek. He seemed a bit confused, but put his arm around my waist.

"What was that for?" he whispered into my ear.

"A thank-you for the dinner, you fool. Or, should I say, *my fictional husband*?"

I put my arm around Bond as well, wondering if Eve understood my message... but I knew I shouldn’t be worried about it just yet. I didn’t respond very well to the silent treatment Bond gave me after our horrible argument and I wanted to take the opportunity to make things better with him. It didn’t matter to me at all what other people working for the MI6 might think, seeing me and Bond embraced like a real-life couple.

I felt bad about flirting with him, but I needed a convincing cover just in case my plan went wrong. I've already made up my mind. If M's married, then it's out of the question. I'll leave him alone and suffer in silence, wandering around the MI6 Headquarters with my broken heart in a sling for the rest of my life. But if he's single... I'm afraid I won't be able to resist the temptation...

Even if it’s going to cost me my job as a double-0.

***

To be continued.

#fanfiction #james bond fanfiction #katherine mallory #gareth mallory #m #james bond #bond james bond #002 #007 #skyfall quote #spectre quote

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hitsuackerman · 4 years ago

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Unpredictable (Overhaul x Reader) pt.14

a/n: thank you all so much for taking the time to read this fic <3 reading your comments always warm my heart so much and never fail to make my day :’) enjoy this chapter hohoho >:3

warnings: this cannot be read solo, crossover

Links: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13, part 15

Masterlist to my other fics: here :)

Overhaul’s waiting list: @jjk-biased @infinite-universe-love @dirtypride @blackymomo03 @azzie @purple-rabanito @meximorrita @awesomeee19

“ACKERDADDY! YASSS!”

“Isn’t it too early, even for you Gei?” Levi complained as he took a sip of his coffee. You had told him that Gei would be coming over for breakfast, what he did not expect was the echoing screech of his famous nickname from the flamboyant man. But if he were to be honest, Gei was a breath of fresh air.

“He’s right.” Compared to Levi, you still had not fixed yourself up. It looked as if he were the owner of the unit and you were some homeless person he took pity on. Bed hair still present, zero makeup, and Overhaul’s jacket still wrapping your torso. “It’s 7 in the morning Gei. Now make yourself useful and give us the take out.”

“How in the world did you date this cave woman, Levi?” Gei stuck his tongue out as he placed the food onto the table. His stomach did a cartwheel when he saw the signature smirk on the ever so handsome officer.

“I asked myself that question everyday.” He flinched when you threw a coaster at his face. Giving you a wink, he tossed the coaster to the table and sipped his coffee once more. Yet his peripheral vision was on the jacket. A pang of jealousy hit him knowing that was once where his jackets would rest.

Gei was quick to see the remorse in his face and turned the subject.

“So~ What’re you up to Ackerdaddy?” He placed the pancakes in front of Levi. “It’s rather sudden that you’d travel 4 hours just to be here.”

“Her boss is meddling with her cases. I have to accompany them to the HPSC later in the day.” He sliced the pancake and chewed on it. “Petty and troublesome.”

“You’re always welcome in my office~” He winked at the gorgeous man who simply shook his head with amusement. “What about you, baby girl? How’s you and Overhoe?”

“We won’t be partnering for the stake out. Nao will be taking my place instead.” You explained as you ate some bacon. “Chief is making me focus on the arson case. Though I don’t really see the need to since it’s basically straw pulling at this point. Oh well. Hopefully meeting up with Endeavor would help.”

“Good lords. Ya’ll are already dead beat this early in the morning.” Gei pouted and wiped non-existent sweat away. “My invitation still stands, boo-boos. I do need a new secretary though. If ya’ll can hand over a talented man, feel free to toss him in.”

The breakfast was seemingly quick and you were now ready for the day’s work. Picking a business attire, you checked yourself out in the mirror. Presentable enough for those assholes, that’s what you thought. Recalling the last time you saw them, it was when a certain popular hero dragged you in on a random case. The scenery of being parked outside a grocery store and waiting for a delivery was the most random your police life could ever get. Still, the hero made up for an excellent connection during desperate times.

Grabbing your phone, you scanned through the notifications and answered three calls while doing the final touches to your look. By the time you were about to exit your room, you took a step back and dialed a number.

“Good morning.”

“What is it?” Overhaul asked. His voice seemed to echo. You were almost certain that he was doing his villain duties. Though, it made you wonder why he still chose to answer. Maybe he wasn’t in the middle of it.

“Just wanted to annoy you with sunshine. That’s all.” Hearing him sigh meant victory. “Bathe in flowers and joy, Chisaki.”

“When I said feel free to call, I meant regarding the case.” Chrono, who was holding the phone for him, rolled his eyes. Sometimes he loved wearing the mask for that sole purpose. Of course it was rare, though. He respected Kai with all his might. He just had his tendencies.

“That’s not the tone you gave me, though.” Hearing a knock on your door, you had to cut the call short. “Well, I gotta go. I do hope I disrupted your villainous activities.”

“Oh, you did.” That smoothness in your voice caused chills to run down your spine. That man could say random shit and make it sound enticing. “Till later, Problem Child.”

Ending the call, you were now in a much lighter mood. When you were now in the living room, Levi and Gei were ready to leave. Asking the doctor if he would like to be sent to work, he merely flicked his imaginary long hair and said that he had his chauffeur waiting for him downstairs. That was his code for he brought along his car.

Now that Levi and you were on your way to the HPSC building, the both of you were reviewing the elements of the case. Asking each other questions that they might ask. As he drove, you were flipping pages after pages that ultimately lead to being unsolved. With the last straw being Endeavor, Levi stated how the people in the commission would surely give you dirty looks.

“I could honestly care less about them.” You waved him off as he now parked the car. “My ultimate concern is the chief. Do me a favor and stay in the middle?”

“You didn’t have to ask.”

As if on cue, the chief was waiting by the entrance. He had been wearing his uniform which only meant he was fresh from a raid. When Levi took command, his nose picked up the smell of sun, sweat, and some kind of vegetable. Nothing has indeed changed.

All of you were now making your way towards the meeting room. Small talk being exchanged every few steps of the way. When the big glass doors were now opened, all three of you were met by the president herself. Stealing a quick glance, Levi reassured you with a nod and a small tap on the knuckle. Activating your quirk, you felt relaxed once more.

Taking your respective seats, you were quick to take the file out and give them a part of your attention.

“It has come to our attention that a certain case has been lax for quite some time now?” The president started, eyes scanning the reports.

“It has. Every lead had been fully searched yet nothing. The last one is admittedly a straw but it might open something.” You swallowed a bit of saliva. “I will be meeting with Endeavor in the next few days to briefly discuss his ties with the companies.”

“How long has this been under your wing?”

“About a year.” You weren’t sure but it was more or less that amount. Cursing yourself, it was rather embarrassing that your record was not 100% solved cases. It couldn’t be helped though, you would remind yourself that from time to time.

“Drop the case. We’ll take care of it.” The president commented. She closed the folder and handed it over to one of the secretaries. Being handed another file, you watched as they began to distribute copies of it. “However, you may still proceed with Endeavor. Update us regarding that.”

“Sure.”

“Chief Kaoru, have you relayed the information to these two officers?”

“Not yet.” He replied with a smug tone on his voice. Both Levi and you managed to pick it up. Straightening both your postures, anticipation went up. “I thought it would be best for you to break it to them.”

“Understood.” The president nodded to the guard. Following instructions, you watched as the doors opened. Two familiar heroes, along with 4 students, now entered the meeting room. “We have come to discuss a much important matter. However, the HPSC will simply oversee this one. Fatgum and Sir Nighteye will be in charge for the next mission to come. Treat this with utmost confidentiality.”

“(Y/N)~” Fatgum greeted you. He was as round as ever. But there was worry in his eyes. “Long time no see~”

“Indeed it has been, Taishi~” Something was wrong. Despite your quirk constantly steadying your blood pressure, your breathing was now uneven. You had no problem with Fatgum. It was Sir Nighteye you were unsure of. “What’s the mission?”

Giving the floor to Nighteye, all three of you observed as he took out an evidence bag from his pocket. Placing it on the table, Levi took it and held it up for both of you to see. Inside was a small silver bullet.

“That bullet right there,” Nighteye began. “Managed to erase this student’s quirk for a few hours.”

“Erase?” Levi repeated.

“Yes.” The student with dwarf-like ears answered. “I’m not sure when it wore off but I woke up this morning and my quirk was back to normal.”

“And where do you think these bullets came from?” The chief asked. He was now scanning the report and his eye caught sight of a familiar name. He couldn’t help it. A smirk now formed on his face. The tables have now turned to his favors. This was unexpected, they informed him about the outline but he was all too happy at the situation now.

“We think they came from the black market. One of our sidekicks mentioned that the Yakuza might have something to do with this.” Nighteye now opened his copy and flipped through some pages. His glasses reflected the small font on the paper. You knew about his quirk. If anything, you decided to avoid being touched by him. They probably had an idea that you were working with Overhaul and would exploit it.

Levi knew by now what was going on. From under the table, he reached for your hand. It had been clenched into a tight fist this whole time. Holding on to it, he caught a glimpse as to how your shoulders relaxed but your jaw tightened. Feeling your fingers wrapping around his, that was all the support he could lend you for now.

“What’s wrong with you?” He asked the green haired boy. “You look like you want to take a shit.”

“Overhaul…” The green haired child began. From where you were sitting, there was fear and regret in his eyes. “Overhaul was last seen with his daughter. She managed to bump into us.”

Just how much did you not know about Overhaul? Nodding him to continue, you saw how his shoulders began to tremble.

“I heard that you 're working with him on a case right now.” He continued. “If there’s any way you can use that to our advantage, please. Please help us get Eri-chan back. Mirio-senpai and I couldn’t do anything but let her go back with that monster. I want to be a hero but I can’t even save a child.”

“Enough.” Levi cut him off. “Sure you wanna be a hero, I get it. But one doesn’t become a hero overnight, kid. The only advice I can give you now is to calm down and recollect yourself. Letting anger and regret take control won’t do shit for any of us.”

“Mr. Ackerman.” Nighteye intruded. “Would it be a burden to ask for your cooperation with this case? You and your quirk would be most helpful in the next coming weeks.”

“Can’t do, Sir Nighteye.” The chief answered on Levi’s behalf. “Ackerman was dragged on for the case now handed over to the big dogs. He’ll be staying here till his meeting with Endeavor is finished. It is to his discretion if he wishes to tag along on his remaining days.”

“First off,” He looked at the chief with his steel gray eyes. One that sent the hairs on his forearm to stand. “Do not answer on my behalf. I work independently as we agreed, shitface.”

Fatgum, Nighteye, and the students all felt their jaws drop. Though the police force did not stand out, it was impossible to not hear about the man in front of them. With a quirk suitable for a hero, it had always been a mystery as to why he chose to hide from the spotlight. Dozens of rumors surrounded Levi Ackerman, yet none of them were sure which were real or not. One thing was certain, the chief did not hold his respect.

“Second, while it’s true that I can only stay till my meeting with Endeavor is over, I can lend my assistance in this mission.” He paused and stared at Nighteye. “On conditions of course.”

“What might that be?”

“There’s only two.”

Nighteye gave him the sign to proceed.

“Do not meddle with my actions. I prefer to work alone when it comes to these.” Squeezing your hand, he made sure to let you feel that you were not alone and he would protect you with whatever power he has in this situation. “The other would be not to exploit her current standing with Overhaul.”

The heroes felt the room shrinking.

“The case she is working on contains classified information. While he may be a villain, there is an unspoken contract that she does not meddle with whatever business he has.”

“That’s right.” You finally spoke up. “While it’s true that he and I have been successfully teaming up for the current case I have, it was made into an agreement that I do not butt in with his affairs. I’m sorry, kid. The only thing I can share is that the Shie Hassaikai base is like a maze and that he may have been in contact with the League of Villains.”

“League… of Villains?” The green haired kid uttered. “Sh-Shigaraki made contact with Overhaul?”

“It seemed so.” You were now choosing your words. You had said too much.

“Are those your conditions?” Nighteye confirmed. There wasn’t that much weight to it and he wasn’t expecting a lot from the both of you either. When Levi confirmed, he stood up and adjourned the meeting. Saying that he still had to meet up with a few other heroes regarding the new found mission.

Now that it was only the three of you in the room, Levi let go of your hand and stood up as well. His senses could feel your disappointment, fear, and urgency. The man sitting beside him ultimately swelled with pride and silent victory at how the meeting had went.

“Let’s go, (L/N).” He said as he went his way towards the door. Opening it wide. He knew you needed a breather. There was a place in his mind that he knew would help sort out your thoughts. It couldn’t be blamed though, you had been dropped a massive bomb. When you passed by him, he slammed the door and grabbed your wrist.

“Levi?!” You squeaked as he ran all the way back to the car. Telling you to get in, you followed and now found yourself buckled up and back on the road. The ride was silent but from the direction he was going and the lane he was in, you knew where he was going.

Your thoughts were cut when you saw his palm asking for yours. Accepting his offer, you desperately held on to it.

“You can cry.” He said as he took the familiar turn towards the destination. “Go ahead.”

Leaning closer towards him, you released your quirk and immediately felt all the tension catching up to your system. Hiding your face in his chest, he gently wrapped his arm around your shoulder as you let the tears fall down your face.

- - - - -

two words: brace yourselves

#overhaul x reader #overhaul #bnha overhaul #mha overhaul #chisaki kai x reader #bnha chisaki kai #mha chisaki kai #chisaki kai #bnha chisaki

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mulderist · 4 years ago

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Wicked Game

Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // read on AO3 // @today-in-fic

Washington, D.C - 1948. Fox Mulder is a detective on the top vice unit; scandal, corruption, and lies come with the territory. He is forced to investigate a fellow officer and finds the lies go much deeper than the truth.

CHAPTER 3

Arlington National Cemetery One week later 9:17 am

Leaves rustled in the trees overhead as the honor guard reloaded and repositioned their rifles. The sharp bang, like a hit on a snare drum, echoed through the eerie calm of the cemetery. I could feel it happening again. Everytime I thought I was past this nonsense it kept coming back. I wanted to close my eyes but it would have brought me back to the mud and rain of Wake Island. When you’ve been knee deep in death you never forget it. I could still smell the humid air, the burnt powder, the smoke.

I closed my eyes for a moment and balled my fist tighter as images clear as photographs flashed before me. Three years ago, I donned the dress blues and watched a soldier from my company laid to rest. It felt like I was having a heart attack as I listened to the twenty-one guns and the cries of his grieving widow. Fingers pressed hard creating a thick new line in my palm and my flashback dissolved.

Each shot up to this point was torture. My salute wavered with the final pop and I felt the elephant on my chest move aside, allowing me to breathe a little. A bead of sweat broke free from under my hatband and took a slow slide down my temple. The back of my neck prickled. I swallowed hard and moved to parade rest as the honor guard queued up and left the gravesite. My fingers slowly loosened their curl and I felt the circulation return to the tips. Once the ringing in my ears stopped I was able to appreciate the sound of silence.

It was a small group of mourners, mainly fellow Marines from Spender’s company and a few officers from the precinct. He had no wife, no kids, not sure if his mother was still alive. Seems that the only family representative was his father. Jeffrey had the distinction of a military funeral at Arlington due to his rank and heroics at Guadalcanal. At the drop of a hat he would tell the story about surviving hand-to-hand combat and rescuing a senior officer during a nighttime raid. I’m sure each time he retold it, that fish got a little bigger. At any rate, he’s now buried amongst other honorable men. His father was able to cut through any red tape like a hot knife through butter to make it happen. And almost as if on cue I spied the old man in his expensive dark striped suit accepting condolences. I recognized him through the smoke cloud that hung around like a bad party guest. I suppose he could feel my eyes on him because he headed my direction. He gestured to another older gentleman, who I assumed was his driver, and continued his approach. It was the first time I was able to truly observe him. He had all the obvious characteristics of old D.C. politics; dower demeanor, rigid walk, air of superiority.

“Sir, I’m sorry for your loss,” I said flatly as he approached. The scent of Morleys invaded my nose.

“Thank you, mister -?” He asked while offering a perfunctory handshake.

“Mulder,” I replied as I shook his hand then tugged at my uniform jacket.

“Ah yes,” he practically hissed, “You were Jeffrey’s partner in the vice unit. Keeping the city safe from crime and debauchery.” The cigarette smoking man took one more drag then let the stick hang on his lower lip. “My son had great potential. To be killed in the line of duty is a tragedy.”

I didn’t know what type of condolence to offer. I wasn’t great friends with his son in the first place, it was a professional relationship and not much more.

“The precinct lost a good detective,” I finally managed to say. Jesus, that felt bitter on my tongue. I licked my lips, hoping this conversation would soon be over; my pleasantries were skating on thin ice. The Smoking Man stubbed out his cigarette and rattled off something about his resources that could aid in our murder investigation. Apparently he and the commissioner were old chums and justice would be swift. Then he took the cue and left. I stole a deep breath and watched him head towards his driver then enter a large black Cadillac that was parked at the base of the knoll.

My feet hit the pathway just as I heard my name being called from over my shoulder. I paused and turned to see Captain Skinner walking my direction.

“Just had a conversation with Spender’s old man.” I said.

“Is that so?” He questioned as he removed his glasses.

“Turns out he has the district police in his pocket so my services might not be needed with this investigation,” I said sarcastically.

“Did he know your connection to the case?”

“He knows I was Spender’s partner, but not that I was at the scene.”

Skinner squared his jaw then continued to walk past me away from the thinning crowd. I followed.

“I’m awaiting the final report from the coroner. They found something of interest on the autopsy.”

“A different cause of death? Figured the gunshots were obvious,” I said.

“There was additional bloodwork. I’m not certain what the M.E. was looking for, which is why I want the final report.” He stopped and faced me. “Mulder, I don’t typically recommend this course of police action however this is a unique situation.”

“Sir?”

“I want you to use whatever channels you have available. Legal or -- otherwise. Use the boys in forensics to your advantage. See if you can get that report and keep this ‘eyes only.”

I raised an eyebrow at the request. It’s not everyday your boss asks you to operate in the gray. Then it clicked.

“You want to keep this hush-hush.”

“I want to keep the reputation of this precinct and my vice unit intact,” he replied cryptically. I could only nod and watch as he slowly left for his car. I took an opposite path. There was a humming in my head that I wanted to knock loose with a stroll.

Flanked by rows of white crosses on green hills I continued along the pathway and suddenly saw a familiar flash of red. She was standing at a simple headstone, adjusting a small arrangement of flowers. Out of respect I waited until she stepped away onto the path before I approached.

“Excuse me,” I called from behind with a casual wave of my hand. When she looked over her shoulder I knew it was her.

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry to bother you, miss,” I began but clammed up when I saw those pools of blue. In that instant, that split second, it’s like I forgot the damn English language. My feet kept moving and I tried to say something.

“It’s no bother,” she said, thankfully.

“Are you by chance a nurse at Washington General?” I finally sputtered as we stopped walking. She nodded then thought for a moment, her arms hugged her petite frame.

“You look familiar,” she said with a delicately pointed finger, “Have we met before?”

“We have,” I replied. She cautiously moved closer to size me up. She surveyed my uniform and I felt like I was back in the barracks.

“You were the -- detective, right? -- who worked on a last name basis?”

“That’s my calling card. The name’s Mulder,” I said, “Remind me yours?”

“Dana Scully,” she said with a hint of a polite smile.

Scully. There it was. The stray thread was pulled and unraveled the memory of her name, each and every letter. She continued,

“How’s your shoulder?”

“Almost back to my pitching prime.” I replied as I gave it a roll. I had to watch myself with this one. Memory like a steel trap. Her head tilted curiously to the side.

“You clean up nice.” There was a quick flush to her cheeks as she took a small step back, wishing that remark stayed to herself. I smiled and now it was my turn to shift gears.

“I saw you laying down some flowers.” I said, curiosity getting my proverbial cat. Her lips pressed together.

“My father,” she said, “He is - was - a captain in the Navy. It was six years ago; Midway. I like to keep his flowers fresh if I can.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I replied with the only thing I could muster. Her statement was simple but knocked the wind out of my sails. Scully dipped her head and nodded. She then asked,

“Do you have someone here?”

“I’ve got a couple guys from my company, though I don’t visit too often. But today was my partner.”

“Oh,” she said softly, “It’s a funny state of the world when you can have a conversation about who you lost as easy as asking ‘how’s the weather.’”

For a moment I had nothing to say. A thousand scenarios ran through my head. I wanted to know more, I wanted to know everything about her. There was a natural beauty of course but something about her mind reeled me in. I cleared my throat. This chat was on the verge of getting cozy but seemed out of place in the current setting.

“May I walk you to your car?”

“Thank you but I’ll be fine. My sister is waiting for me. Besides, we only just met.” A smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth.”

Playing coy, I liked that.

“Well then, good day Miss Scully.”

“Good day Mr. Mulder.” She shook my hand and lingered for a moment. “If you’re ever in Georgetown look me up. Hopefully we can meet again.”

“I sincerely hope so,” I said. She turned heel and left me on the path. The curve of her pencil skirt, a flutter of the hem, the lines of her smart blouse made the goodbye feel less permanent. I listened to a breeze sweep through the tree line then I backtracked to where I was parked.

I needed to get out of this uniform.

-------

Hegal Place Alexandria, VA

My apartment felt stale. I forced open a window to let in some fresh air. In the wardrobe hung one clean, pressed dress shirt along with my police dress blues. Of course the only shirt remaining was the one I wore the night Spender was killed. The good thing about an old jaded dry cleaner is you get quality work and little questions. I sipped my coffee and remembered I might have a vacation shirt stashed away in a drawer. As I donned the new shirt I heard the phone ring. I was waiting for a call from the boys in forensics who were a little too eager to give me a hand.

“Mulder? It’s Frohike.”

“What have you found?”

“As you know, Langley and I were able to fish out a casing from the bathroom stall door, the back wall and a sneaky little devil in the bar. Turns out these paired nicely with the one lodged in Spender’s abdomen.”

“Who’d the weapon belong to?”

“Carlo Lodi.” Frohike asked. I scanned through the mugshot portfolio in my head. There he was. A hulking brute nicknamed The Titan who was quick with a fist and a trigger.

“Yeah. He’s one of Vincenti’s favorite enforcers.”

“We’ve seen his handiwork before,” Frohike continued, “He leaves a real pretty signature, although he’s usually a little more precise. Execution style seems to be his forté.”

“That’s what I thought when I was at the scene. I still don’t know if he intended to take me out as well.”

“Just like you to get in the way, Mulder.” There was a chuckle in the other end of the phone.

“Hey Frohike, has the final report come in from the M.E.?”

“Ah, funny you should mention that. I have a preliminary copy and it shows that there was heroin in his system.”

“Shit,” I stated after a pause.

“What is it?”

“It means Krycek was right.”

#i wrote this #xf fanfic #mulder pov #historical au

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kinsbin · 4 years ago

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Miscommunication

Title: Miscommunication WC: 3760 Ship: Ghost Grinder [Papa Emeritus III/Self Insert]

Summary: A conversation overheard by Terzo results in a minor miscommunication between him and his assistant... And brings about a confession both needed to hear.

A/N: I WANTED TO WRITE THIS SO I INDULGED MYSELF TODAY I had a good time with it ;w; I love Ghost so much man. It’s just a very long fic about my first confession of love to Terzo okay.

----

Secondo’s office was a comforting place. The tall, intense walls lined with books and baubles so neatly organized in their spaces surrounded Kai with a sense of comfort. The plush carpet was always soft under their feet and the scent of the constant burning incense, held in an old chinese holder decorated in macabre designs, only served to comfort them even more. It was a stark contrast to the two whenever they were required to commune together as they currently were: The desk before them being neatly stacked with papers that organized themselves alphabetically and by month as they poured over each one with a type of exhausted desperation that only those managing an entire church budget could seem to handle.

“I think that’s the last of it,” Kai finally spoke after what felt like hours of terse silence between the two of them, “The budget reports are - at least - organized enough to keep better track of for the time being in the files.”

“Yes,” The second Emeritus’ brother’s voice was a dull and disheartening void of disbelief to the other’s words, “Until my foolish brother decides to give half of it up for some sort of grandiose soiree.”

“We’ll be ready if he does and I will kindly remind him about these painstaking hours.” Kai returned curtly as they dropped the final reports before them in their designated pile. A deep and long sigh reached their throat as they crackled their fingers carefully. The noise echoed eerily from against the walls of the space around them. Secondo’s eyes trailed on them for what felt like longer than necessary, but they made no comment on it as they stood.

Brushing the edge of their black dress uniform off, they made to gather the rest of the papers in the stack that belonged to them, their minds already working through the carefully planned filing system they would put through in Terzo’s own office. If left alone, the man would have no clue where to file his own pieces. The knowledge of the intense cabinet system was left to Kai and Kai alone. At the very least they had that as leverage should Terzo ever threaten them with a vacation away from him.

(Which he would never do. He more often than not insisted they went on vacations together).

“Brother,” Secondo’s voice was lilted as he held a hand upwards to stop the other’s movements, “A moment of your personal time, per favore.”

Kai’s fingers stopped gathering the papers before them as they looked upwards into the other’s face. Their mouth curved down into a frown of concern as they tilted their head. The air was suddenly cold on the back of their neck as they slowly released the papers from the full grasp, making sure to keep them in their organized positions to prevent any mix ups for the second time they were meaning to reach for them.

“Is there something I forgot, Excellency?”

Rather than reply right away, Secondo stood up from his seat. Though his outfit was a casual thing (as casual as he could be in a fine Italian branded 3 piece suit) the skull paint lacing his features was as sharp as ever. It showed off the glowering edges of his cheekbones and seemed to exemplify the overarching intimidation of him as a whole being. If Kai had not been staring at it endlessly for the past several months as they helped to arrange the church budget per his request, they might have been intimidated by such a righteous façade. Instead they met his rising façade by straightening their own back, moving upright as he rounded the table to approach them.

“I’ve found myself - hm how you say - interested in something. A proposition I feel may interest you as well.”

Kai shifted in their spot, tilting their head as they rested some of their weight on the desk at their side. The wood dug into their hip, but they made no sign of discomfort as their brow furrowed in confusion.

Neither saw nor heard the form of Terzo as he shifted through the halls, a skip in his step as he chased after where he knew his favorite assistant to be at. He couldn’t imagine how boring a meeting with his elder brother had trapped them in. Surely they were already longing to break free and return back to the arms of their beloved Papa!

At least he really hoped they did.

Terzo was no fool, of course, and he never missed the calmness that followed after Kai when they returned from their brother’s office. Nor did he miss the smile that seemed to grace their lip when Secondo discussed in hushed whispers to them about an important document that needed reviewing and organization. Kai insisted on a multitude of occasions that it was simply a habit of theirs to find pleasantness in organization. To manage and to be in control was something of a sin they carried with them in one way or another, and Terzo had tried to understand many times.

Yet that feeling of dread often filled his heart when Secondo’s eyes lingered too long on their form. Or when they seemed to laugh a little too much at something he whispered into their ear as they left their private meetings. It made his heart clench enough to convince himself a visit was necessary. Just to check in. Just to find something of an excuse that would make his best confidant come to his side once more.

A ghoul had asked him why he wanted them so often by him. Terzo had no answer.

He arrived at the slightly ajar door to his brother’s office and scoffed at the heady scent of incense flowing from it. Surely they both must be suffocating in such an intense scent. He poked his head around the door, intent on knocking as he did so, but his hand fell as he watched the elder Emeritus walk towards Kai. As Kai tilted their head curiously. As they answered a question Terzo hadn’t caught fully from his brother’s lips. He could see their gaze raised curiously as they leaned on the desk before them.

“What proposition would that be, Sir?”

Secondo’s hand rose forward and out, brushing his fingers over the top of Kai’s and resting it against their own flesh with a surprisingly tender embrace. Kai’s body stiffened in surprise and - try as they might- they could not hide their gaze as it widened in shock. Secondo was now...very close to them. Close enough that they could smell the faint cologne and whiskey that lingered across his form at any given moment, and they were not sure if the smell was comforting or dangerous. His height made it so they had to bend their neck upwards to watch him, gaze furrowed as he tilted his head at them in return.

“You work for my brother,” Secondo began evenly, “But he does not deserve you, you know. Your skills would be much better served in my company, caro. We do much together already and it would be… interesting to see if we could do more.”

Kai’s eyes widened in surprise, their jaw momentarily going slack as Secondo kept his hand evenly on their own, squeezing now with purpose as the proposition fell from between his lips:

“Leave my brother and be mine. It sounds reasonable, yes? I will value you far more than he could ever imagine.”

Terzo exhaled furiously through his nose, not caring if the sound was heard or not, and his fingers clenched against one another in frustration. Of course his brother would pull this shit. Of course he would ask to take away something as precious - as important - as Kai was to him. His brow furrowed as he tried to hold back the short wave of emotions that pressed into his stomach as a result of the proposition spread before him.

The worst part was - with their interactions - he saw no reason for Kai to say no.

Hell. They would not.

Turning his back to the door, he moved with a purpose through the hallowed halls of the church around him. His shoes made a clattering noise as they pushed him forward with unnecessary frustration. Fine, then. If they wanted to be with his brother he would let them.

... He would…. Let them, he supposed.

The room swam in the silence for what felt like hours. Kai’s breath caught in their throat as a sense of panic rose against their chest. The last thing they had expected from the older brother’s lips had been… something like that, certainly. Opening up their mouth, the dryness of their throat caught the edge of their breath and a dry cough of surprise made its way through their lips, their free hand raising to cover their mouth as they moved their other from under the other’s grip. Secondo allowed it, watching their face with patience of his own.

“I… Am flattered, Sir, I am.” They finally managed out with a flush of surprise to their cheeks, “But I simply could not accept. M-My assigned duty is to-”

“Duties can be moved around and reordered,” Secondo insisted with a menial shrug, “Someone would replace you at my brother’s side and it would be no trouble. You need not worry about something like duty in this respect, si?”

“No-!” Kai’s voice dared raise up in surprise for a moment, the sound shocking them both as they stared down one another. A frown momentarily placed itself on Secondo’s lips as he looked over Kai, who shrunk under the gaze. Never had they raised their voice at anyone, much less someone as high in ranking as a former Papa certainly. Even now he had power within the church. Even now he was not to be trifled with in those respects.

“No, your Excellency,” Kai breathed out with a more even tone this time, “It’s… It’s something else, you see. Terzo… needs me.”

“He can need another.”

“No he can’t,” Kai insisted, leaning forward with an ache in their eyes, “He needs me. I know him. I know how he works and I’m the best - the only - one who can do what I do for him and… and…”

Their voice broke softly as they looked away, a breath of emotions flooding their eyes as Kai took a step backwards from the other to compose themselves. Wiping away the tears that dared touch the edges of their vision, they could not get out the words of what they wanted to say. They could not manage the terrifying phrase that pressed to the edge of their lips as they tried to hold it back in their throat, lest something go wrong as they attempted it.

They did not have to, though. Secondo’s eyes lit up with a familiar recognition within moments of their voice cracking under the strain of his proposal. It made sense after that.

“Ah, I see,” He mused quietly, “You love him.”

The phrase sent fire to Kai’s face. They looked up with a red blush that matched the strands of their hair. Their lips parted to defend themselves, to counteract the absurdity of the statement with one of their own, but… Nothing came forward from them. Nothing to deter the thought or push the other away from the idea itself. No… In reality, they really couldn’t.

It was the truth.

“... Yes,” They finally whispered out, eyes switching to the floor as they tried not to cry in front of one of the heads of the church, “Please don’t make me leave him.”

When Secondo reached outwards to touch them again, it was to give them an assuring (f not awkward) pat on their shoulder. Kai startled at the touch and looked up, surprised at the way the elder took the refusal. He was not smiling, but he did not look angry either. A mere gaze of understanding was swept across his facial features as he nodded to Kai. Kai’s shoulders relaxed under his touch. They breathed out a breath they were not aware that they were holding.

“It was bold of me to express such a thing,” Secondo spoke, the closest thing he might get to an apology, “Go to your Papa then, caro. And… if you ask me… I would say explaining those feelings to him may end better than you might think.”

Kai laughed weakly through the breath they exhaled, reaching down to shakily gather their papers from where they had been left, not forgotten by their ever detailed eyes. They tried to ignore the intensity with which their fingers were shaking, barely able to grab the papers without trembling and dislodging one in their grip. It made them curse despite themselves. The frustration of their own emotions were obvious in their voice as they finally pulled the papers close to their chest and gave one last look at the man before them, inhaling sharply as they did so.

“Th-Thank you for going over them with me, Sir.” They managed out in a shaking tone, waving in the wind of their own emotions.

“Si, si,” Secondo waved a hand outwards in a dismissive motion, “Go off now.”

They let one more thank-you slide from their mouth before scurrying out of the office, Secondo’s eyes following them the entirety of the way out.

“Oi. They have something bad for him.”

Kai rushed down the halls of the church with a speed they did not know that they had in their legs, as shaking and unstable as they might be. Each movement felt like they were a newborn fawn, striding and tripping over themselves as they tried their best to push forward into the halls around them. The stained glass was a blur against their vision as their narrowed watch focused only on the road before them. Of the direction before them and just who it would bring them to see. A smile parted on their nerve-wracked lips despite the situation, the knowledge that they were still with Terzo… That they were still HIS assistant blossomed with pride in their heart.

Pride and something more.

All of those feelings, of course, came to a stop when they pushed open the door to the Papa’s quarters and saw just what was going on.

Ghouls scrambled swiftly around the room, picking up bits of items that they were surely aware belonged to them. Each bauble of theirs was wrapped neatly in bubble wrap and folded into a suitcase, surrounded by their own casual and formal clothing as it was loaded into the sleek cases and bound with thin metal clasps against the edge. None of the helpers acknowledged their presence as they continued on in their work. Scurrying to and fro, Kai could only watch with a sense of abject anxiety as their items were stolen from the places they had always been. The places Terzo allowed them to keep things since - well - since they had been busy helping him.

All the while Terzo himself sat at the desk in his room, a rare sight considering he only really used it to sit on and embellish his words, his gaze hot over some of the papers Kai had laid out in the hopes that he would overview them and sign then. They hadn’t actually expected him to do such a thing, especially not when so many workers were busy packing their own stuff away.

“Papa,” Kai managed out as they hurried over to the desk, placing their own papers on its edge and leaning forward with wide eyes, “What is the meaning of all of-”

Terzo held his hand out, stopping their words mid sentence as he frowned. Kai tensed, the look on Terzo’s face unfamiliar territory as they tried to gouge the reasoning behind such a sour look. They didn’t have the chance to fully take it in, though, not as he finally began speaking. The long silence was only one sharp pain compared to his words.

“Do not worry,” He huffed with a dry tone to his voice, “I overheard your… conversation with my brother. How you say… You’ll be out of here - ah - lickety split. To move wherever it is he wants you.”

Kai paled at the thought of him overhearing. Just how much had he actually heard? How long had he hung around for? Was this… because he heard that they loved him and did not want them around him anymore? Were they being kicked out because they were being rejected? Terror rose in thier heart as they realized the full situation before them. Kai was speechless for a long time, unable to fully part their lips to make words come from them. In the meantime, Terzo stood to move away.

It was as he was walking that they sprung into action.

“Papa what are you saying!?”

“Do not think I’m an idiot!” He hissed with a near dangerous tone of his voice, “I see how he looked at you. I see how he touches you! If you are so dedicated to him, meeting every day and night, you might as well make it official. There is no reason for worry, caro, I promise, you will have everything organized with no huff and-”

“I don’t WANT to go with your brother!”

The admittance paused Terzo in his words, his tongue stumbling on his teeth as he turned to blink owlishly at his assistant. Kai’s face was bright red as they heaved their breath, the shout they had dared offer in the frontman’s direction was surprisingly loud for one who never raised their voice too much. Sure, it inclined with their special interests or built up power when they were excited, but this? It was a bellow out of their mouth. A dangerous yell that broke whatever frustrated facade Terzo dared carry around them.

“You… do not?”

“No!” Kai exhaled as they rubbed their temples for a moment, grounding themselves as they gestured forward, “No I… Whatever you saw… whatever your brother did to me… I refused it, Papa. I refused all of him because I wanted to stay here! I wanted to stay and be with YOU.”

“Me….” He trailed off, the word foreign on his tongue, “Why? When you enjoy his company so much.”

Kai felt frustration bubble up in their heart as they dragged a hand through their short cropping of hair and exhaled without thinking about it:

“Because I lo….” The stopped, the word faltering over their mouth, but the hopeful look on Terzo’s face showed that he had heard the start of their admittance. The warmth of their embarrassment flooded their tongue like a bitter medicine as they tried to hide their gaze by shifting it away to the floor. There was another long pause before they dared continue on, accepting the words that they had longed to say as they finally fell from their lips.

“It’s because…I love you.”

The silence was deafening now. The endless quiet between the both of them was suddenly and unbearable weight that pressed down into Kai’s shoulders as it hovered. It was a monster whose teeth was sinking into the back of their spine, making the bones ache with impatience and terror. All they could do was wait now. Wait to hear what Terzo had to say during the confession. To hear what they either did or did not want to hear leave his lips. The entirety of the thing was an anxiety inducing nightmare that sent goosebumps up Kai’s spine as their legs trembled beneath them out of pure adrenaline.

Terzo’s face morphed into a smile, soft and concerned, and Kai felt their tension melt away with a relieved sigh.

“Oh caro,” Terzo sighed as he approached them, “Why did you not tell me this thing before!”

It was all the warning they got before they were swept up in a pair of arms, twirled above the ground in a way that made them squeal in surprise. Once they were set back down, a single gloved hand reached out to take their chin between thumb and forefinger, dragging them up to stare into the mismatched eyes of the other. Terzo’s gaze glittered with amusement as he let his thumb rub across the bottom of their lip. His hold on their body was soft as he continued to stare down at them, as though they held all the secrets of the church itself. As though they were something he could breathe life into.

“Do you mean that? You love me… You mean it, yes?”

“I…” Kai swallowed and gave a shy smile back, “I do. I always did…”

The ghouls around them had stopped moving now, the change in situation so sudden that they were not aware of just what they were supposed to be doing now. Some set the items they were gathering back down and others simply stood with the items still in hand, their tails twitching as they watched the couple before them. Kai - suddenly aware of all of their stares - flushed in surprise, but had no chance to complain before those fingers holding their face brought themselves forward.

Soft, painted lips fell upon Kai’s own. The taste of champagne and setting spray overwhelming their mouth as Terzo kissed them. The shock of his sudden presence, of his brash audacity, overwhelmed them for only the briefest of moments before they melted into the kiss, limbs turning into jelly as they wrapped their arms around Terzo’s neck and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss longer as they shared it together.

By now the ghouls had slowly begun to unpack the things they had put away, unwrapping knick knacks and rearranging clothes carefully around the two as they read the room.

When they did pull away, Kai could taste the remnants of face paint on their lips, and they could not help but smile brightly at the sight of the man before them, grip tightening on his suit as he beamed down at them.

“I guess that is making it official then, hm?”

“Pft, making what official?”

“That you are mine.”

The honest words brought a blush to their face, but it was a pleasant feeling in the pit of their stomach that brought them to nod and laugh. Pressing their nose into his neck, they sighed deeply as they continued to hold him - and was held in return. Their confirming whisper sent stars in the back of Terzo’s vision as he memorized the breaths that were written along his neck:

“That I’m yours.”

#kinley writes #ghost grinder #selfship #self insert #i'm gay ok #oc x canon #si x canon #ghost

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thesilencebeforeastorm · 5 years ago

Text

Our Baby - Levi x Reader

A/n: Get ready for feelssssss

The scouts had heard a report about a recent titan attack in a nearby village and were instructed to find any survivors by Commander Erwin. Although everyone believed that there would be way anyone in a simple village could survive a titan attack, they still followed orders and went to investigate. Y/n was a part of Captain Levi’s squad and so they went to check a few houses on the right of the village while the 104th cadet corps went to check the rest. The village smelled of death as blood and some body parts were scattered everywhere. After some time searching, they believed they were empty handed.

“There’s no survivors here Captain”, Petra said to Levi.

“Keep looking. There has to be someone here”.

“Do you really believe that?”, she said to him.

“No but I’d like to hope so. Check that house again over there”, Levi pointed out.

“Yes sir!”

Y/n was checking out a house on her own, her nose becoming sensitive to the unpleasant smell of old blood and rotting flesh. The titans sure did a number on the villagers here and she was just as convinced that everyone was dead. A wave of sadness hit her as the realization came to her. Everyday people were dying, a never ending nightmare that she had to endure while being a member of the scouts. Just as she was going to leave, she heard a faint cry from somewhere in the house.

“Huh?” she asked herself. She was sure she checked every part of the house so there was no way someone was here. Hearing the cry again, she headed for the bedroom. There was no sight of anyone there but the sound was coming from… under the bed. As she crouched down, she was stunned by what she saw. It was a baby.

Slowly, she got the baby out from under the bed and examined it for any wounds and to see what gender the baby was. Turns out it was a baby boy, not much older than 3 months and he was unharmed. He had a lot of black hair and pale skin and was wrapped in a blanket to keep him warm. She had to admit that the baby features resembled a lot like Levi’s. She wondered how he even survived.

A few months ago Y/n was supposed to have a child of her own with Levi but lost it due to unfortunate circumstances. It sent her into a deep depression but after a while, she convinced herself that it was for the best since the baby wasn’t planned and they were soldiers. A baby wouldn’t be fit to be born into a chaotic world like this and so they disregarded the thought of having one until all this was over.

Her motherly instincts kicked in and seemed to help the baby calm down for now. She knew the baby was hungry and had to find him food. She found a bottle nearby that wasn’t so cold but wasn’t warm and spoiled either. She fed him all that was left and it got him to stop crying. She knew he would need more food but with the house in horrible shape and dead bodies lying around, she’d have to find food elsewhere. Looking at the baby again, a new problem arose in her head. Losing a child of her own only made her want to keep this one. If she took the baby to the Captain, he would be taken away to a refugee camp to find a new family. His family was gone, devoured by the titans. Who else better to take care of the baby than her. She had to hide him. Wrapping the baby up carefully, she hid him in her cape while holding him with her right arm. She didn’t know how she was going to make it back without being spotted but she had to give it a try.

“It’s okay”, she cooed to the baby. “I’ll be your mom now… I’ll keep you safe”.

Y/n walked out of the house cautiously, careful not to be seen or spotted by anyone. The plan seemed to be going well in her head until she heard a voice that slightly scared her.

“What are you doing?” Levi asked her.

Y/n jumped and turned around half way, trying not to show him what she was holding.

“Nothing, just heading back to regroup with the others”. Levi knew that to be half truth, she was walking suspiciously. He questioned further.

“Did you find anything in the house?”

“No I didn’t” she replied quickly, too quickly that she was sure it was a dead give away. She tried to walk away. She just had to make it to the horses.

Levi took notice of how weird she was acting but took more notice that she didn’t want to turn around and face him. Tilting his head to the side, he noticed how her right arm wasn’t resting at her side, meaning she was holding something.

“What are you holding in your hand?” he asked her.

Y/n froze. Shit, he noticed, she thought to herself. She then felt the baby wiggling in her arm. Please don’t cry, please don’t cry.

“Nothing!” Y/n replied quickly again and tried to walk away again before she was stopped by Levi’s hold on her left arm. Y/n looked at Levi, tears filling up her eyes before the baby started crying.

She froze as Levi looked down at her arm with a confused look. Slowly letting go of her arm, he pushed her cape to the side, revealing the baby she was holding. He took a deep breath, knowing exactly what she was doing and where this was gonna go. Y/n still didn’t move.

“You can’t keep that baby Y/n”, he finally said.

The pain that shot through her heart after hearing those words hurt like hell. She failed at keeping him hidden. To be fair, the plan didn��t have a 100% success rate but she knew the baby would be taken away.

“He has no family…the titans...” she replied, her voice shaky as she struggled to keep her tears from turning into sobs. She didn’t even want to look at Levi while she spoke.

Levi looked down at the baby, remembering his own pain that he felt when Y/n lost their child. He had to admit that while he never wanted kids, he was a bit excited about having one with her. Had they not been Scouts, he probably would have let her keep it but there were too many factors involved that wouldn’t let it be possible. He had to be realistic.

“There’s a family out there that can take care of him. We can’t -”

“Yes we can!” Y/n yelled out, her sobs coming out in full force. “We were going to have a child before, remember!? What difference does it make now!?”

Levi’s face remained nonchalant though he felt her pain. She was right except he didn’t know if this was healthy for her to do. Just as he was about to speak, he saw Petra from the corner of his eye.

“Captain, we-”, she was cut off by Levi holding his finger up, telling her to wait. Seeing that the baby was still crying, he knew he had to eat.

“The baby is hungry. We should get him something to eat for the meantime.”

Y/n looked down at the fussy baby. Levi was right.

“Petra”, Levi said as he motioned her to come over. “Take the baby to the wagon and find him some food”.

Y/n clutched the baby tighter. She felt like this was some kind of trick. Petra walked over slowly, being aware of the delicate state Y/n was in and slowly grabbed the baby.

“Please Levi, don’t do this… please don’t take him away…” she begged softly as she looked at him. She could’ve fought to keep the baby in her hold but her emotions drained her from every fight she had. Petra finally had a hold of the baby and took him away, leaving Y/n to drop to the ground and sob. Levi was there to console her, not with words but holding her. He fought to not shed a tear himself.

Some time had passed since they went to look for survivors at the village and Y/n had been quiet ever since then. Not wanting to eat or talk with anyone, she stood in her room wallowing in her pain. Levi had tried to console her the best he could but she was upset at him for taking the baby away. He knew it. He needed to do something, and after some thinking he made his move.

Levi had gone down to the refugee camp to look for the baby Y/n had saved. After asking around, he found the baby boy she wanted so bad. No family had come to claim him and so his caretaker had let Levi see him. With the two of them alone, Levi picked up the baby and admired his features. He took note of how much black hair he had and his pale skin just like his own. No wonder Y/n wanted him so bad.

“Ever thought of having kids of your own, Mr. Ackerman?” an old woman at the camp said to him. He looked at her and then back at the baby.

“No but my partner does. She was the one who found him the other day.”

“Then what is he doing here?” she replied. “Take him to her. It would sure make her day”.

After some thought about the old woman’s words finally gave in. If Y/n wanted to be a mom, then he would make her dream come true. If they wanted to have a kid of their own in the future, then the possibility was still on the table.

Y/n laid in bed, thinking about her baby boy. Well he wasn’t hers but she swore he was. She swore that she would never forgive Levi for taking him away from her, leaving her to deal with heartbreak twice. Lost in thought, she suddenly heard the door open. Knowing it was Levi, she didn’t bother to look.

“Y/n”, Levi said softly.

“Hmm” she replied.

“I have something to show you”

“I don’t care for it”, she said. She honestly didn’t.

“Oh, well I think you should”, he replied. Looking up finally, her eyes widened as she saw him holding the baby she found at the village. She jolted up from the bed to rush at his side, tears falling from her eyes once more as she admired her precious boy.

“Oh my god” she cried out, as she grabbed him from Levi’s hold. Levi gave her a soft smile.

“How did you..?” she questioned Levi, leaving kisses on the baby’s head.

“Nobody claimed him and I gave good thought about what you said. After speaking to the commander, you will now be an off duty soldier. We can keep him”.

Y/n’s eyes shined so bright from happiness. Her biggest dream was finally coming true.

“Thank you so much, Levi… my baby is here”, she said.

Levi smiled once more. “You mean our baby.”

Tagging: @humanitys-hottestsoldier @paopufruittt @final-fantasy-xv-nut

Masterlist

#levi x reader #levi ackerman #Levi aot #levi snk #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk x reader #aot x reader #levi fanfiction #attack on titan fanfiction #like #comment #reblog #jay writes #angst #sfw

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sicparvismorrigan · 3 years ago

Text

Crisis of Faith

The will of God brings a young and impressionable Trinity soldier to the attention of Commander Konstantin.

Tomb Raider/Rise of the Tomb Raider/Konstantin

Viewpoint: 3rd person female Trinity soldier OC

Warnings: blood, descriptions of violence, PTSD, religious fanaticism, stigmata

Word count: ~2.5k [complete]

A short fic I wrote because I wanted to play with Konstantin’s heavily religious side.

Read on Ao3

Death.

Ailish sat up on her cot, freezing cold. She was drenched in sweat and panting heavily. It was pitch black in the gulag and she tried to slow her breathing so she wouldn’t wake her comrades. She listened carefully, there was snoring coming from all directions. Nobody had heard her, not yet.

She was safe. She was surrounded by big men with weapons, nothing could hurt her here. All the prisoners were securely locked up. Ailish reached down and felt the comforting cool steel of her own pistol in its holster.

She breathed in deep and counted 1...2...3... before breathing out again. Her pulse was still racing and she could feel her heart trying to leap out of her ribcage.

Safe. I’m safe.

It had been nearly two years since Yamatai and Ailish still had nightmares. She knew exactly what it was: Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. She had heard the guys talk, knew some of them struggled too. She had seen a few get discharged because of it. She’d spent a long time trying to convince herself she was fine. But in fact, she really wasn’t.

She needed air. Ailish quietly got out of her cot and shrugged on a few more layers before making sure her pistol was strapped to her body, just in case. She tiptoed past the guys by the light from her torch, and made her way out to the old guardhouse that was their temporary mess area. She just wanted some space to calm down.

Empty, thank God. The embers of the fire were enough to keep the warmth going. She pulled up a chair and settled in to watch the glow.

She kept replaying the last moments of her nightmare over and over in her head, despite trying her best to push it away. They were in that god-awful pit again, suffocating from the fumes. She checked ahead and yelled Clear! back to her second, Charlie. As he moved past her she heard something big land on the rock of the cavern floor behind them. Charlie swung back around and screamed at her to get down as a God-awful roar filled the cave, rattling her bones. He raised his gun to fire and Ailish shrieked at him stopitsgonnablow-

bang bang

BOOM

A flash of white light, then darkness. Waking up in terror once again from the memories that haunted her every night. At least she was alive, she had made it out. Charlie hadn’t, she couldn’t save him. She still blamed herself. The guys had tried to convince her again and again it was an accident, but she should have been there. In her dreams, she’d seen Charlie die a hundred times over, each more horrible than the last.

She had never been so close to quitting as she had after Yamatai. She had composed her resignation letter in her head on the helicopter ride back to civilization, but had never written it. Something told her it wasn’t time yet. She’d spent just over three years working with Trinity at that point and never questioned her beliefs before the clean-up mission to that hellhole. By all accounts it was even worse during the Nishimura expedition. She shuddered, it didn’t bear thinking about, how anyone could survive there for any length of time she’d never know. So many bodies. And in some places, the smell, it was unholy.

It didn’t help her sleep at night, but at least she had got a promotion out of it. The salary was great, which was a major reason for her staying put. Ailish was trying to help her parents put her younger sister through Yale, and every cent counted. Her mom and dad had just been grateful, and thankfully hadn’t yet asked where the money had come from. She didn’t want to have to lie. They’d hit the roof if they ever found out. As far as they were concerned, she was still working as a paralegal in Chicago. God, she missed her sister. She hadn’t seen her in months, and now Ailish was off-grid in Siberia. Freezing cold, snowy, desolate Siberia.

She was startled out of her thoughts by a voice outside. A deep voice, American accent. It sounded a lot like the Commander. She really hoped he wouldn’t come into the guardhouse. He was intimidating, and she’d never been in a room alone with him before. He sounded like he was talking on the phone.

“...and what did the doctor say?”

...

“Okay...Ana, are you smoking?”

...

“Yeah, I know, but-“

...

“Listen, she’s on the move. She may even already be in Siberia. I need you back here.”

...

“Got it, see you soon.”

Who was Ana? Was it his wife, girlfriend, daughter? Who was the other ‘she’ he was talking about?

Ailish heard footsteps coming up to the door and the latch lifting. Oh boy, here we go. I wasn’t eavesdropping, Commander, I swear.

He stopped dead when she saw her at the table. Obviously not expecting anyone else to be awake at this hour. He slid the cellphone he was carrying into a pocket and nodded at her before closing the door behind him. “Sergeant.”

“Evening-“ Ailish checked her watch. “Ah, morning, Commander. Sorry, sir. I’ll get out of your way.” She slid her chair back to leave.

“Stay. You were here first.” Ailish sat back down immediately, wide-eyed. “What are you doing up so late?”

“I couldn’t sleep, sir.” Not strictly true but she didn’t want to feel like a little schoolkid telling her superior she had a bad dream.

“Likewise.” He pulled up the chair opposite her and sat down with a sigh.

Something was bothering him, he seemed fidgety. Ailish didn’t really know what to do so she started twiddling her thumbs and rambling to fill the silence. “Gee, the weather’s really turned these past few days, huh? Ha ha...kind of makes me wish we were back in Syria. Although it was almost too hot-“

He cut her off. “Moscovitch, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“We’re not on duty, you don’t have to call me sir.”

“Uh- yes. Okay, si- eh...Command- uhmm...”

“Konstantin is fine.”

“Okay.” It felt weird. Ailish wasn’t even sure if that was his first or last name. “You can call me Ailish. It’s slightly less of a mouthful than Moscovitch.”

“Don’t hear that name very often.”

“Yeah, it’s a weird one...my parents have always had this fascination with Ireland. It means ‘noble and kind’ or something like that...I dunno...”

He looked at her for a long moment. Ailish opened her mouth to speak again when a wolf howled up in the mountains. She grabbed for her pistol and her other hand tightened on the edge of the table until her knuckles turned white.

Konstantin saw her reaction and frowned. “Relax, it’s just a wolf, they don’t come down here-“

“Yeah, I know.” She started hyperventilating and bit her lip hard to fight back the tears. For God’s sake, don’t cry in front of the Commander. She hated hearing the wolves at night. Rationally, she knew they were miles away, but the sound still caused her pain.

For a moment she was back on Yamatai, wedged in a rocky crevice listening to the snarling as they hunted for her. The smell of rain, tree sap and decay all around. Her hands shaking as she pointed her rifle at the opening, just waiting for jaws and teeth to emerge around the corner and grab at her.

“Oh, shit.” This was going to be a bad episode. She’d had panic attacks increasingly often and could spot the signs of one approaching. Fortunately they usually hit when she was alone or could sneak away, but now she had no such luxury. Ailish knew this one had her beat.

Konstantin’s mouth tightened. “Language.”

She had time to blurt out “Terribly sorry sir!” before she slid off the chair onto the floor and crawled under the table.

The tears were now pouring out and rolling down her cheeks. What an embarrassment. She’d fought so hard to prove she was equal to the guys, and now she was being a silly little girl.

She felt the Commander’s boot gently tapping her back. “Mos- Ailish? Are you okay?”

“I will be, in a minute.” She panted.

Through the panic she heard the other chair scraping backwards. To her surprise Konstantin crouched and got down to her level under the table, facing her. Was he supposed to do that?

“You’ve normally got it together, Moscovitch.” Oh no, back on a last name basis. She’d definitely messed up. “Want to tell me what’s going on?”

Ailish shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. “Just need a sec.”

The only sounds in the room were her panting and the low crackle of logs in the burner. She felt his gloved hand on her shoulder.

He quietly spoke. “Listen, I read the Yamatai report.” It was strange, how calming his voice was.

Ailish looked up, misty-eyed. “Yeah?”

He nodded. “I didn’t know they’d be sending a woman.”

“I’m just as capable-“

“Quiet. I’m saying it’s impressive you completed the mission, and even led part of the way, that place sounded like a nightmare.”

“It was.” Charlie, I should have saved you.

“And I am sorry you lost Corporal Collins. I know you were close.”

“Yeah...” she sniffed loudly. Her heart still hurt, so much. “He was like a brother. Charlie would have done anything for me. And I would have done the same for him.”

His eyes softened. “I know what that’s like.”

It meant a lot to Ailish, getting commiserations from a Trinity leader. Normally, you could forget about that sort of thing. Rourke had co-ordinated the Yamatai mission and hadn’t said a word to her when he had met them back on the mainland for debriefing. Dominguez had been silent too, though he had been one of those who had approved her promotion. They could be a heartless, insensitive bunch sometimes.

But she hadn’t expected the Commander to have a soft side. He actually reminded her of Charlie. Konstantin had a scarred-up face but there were similarities for sure. Blonde hair, blue eyes, they walked with the same purpose. He wasn’t bad-looking actually, as long as the light was dim.

Ailish eventually rallied and crawled back into her chair, still breathing quickly. Konstantin sat down too, regarding her with something akin to concern.

“Tell me the real reason you’re here by yourself in the middle of the night.”

She swallowed hard. “I...I have nightmares still.”

He shook his head. “I think you should talk to someone about this. If you’re serious about staying with Trinity. It would be a shame to bail out now that you’re a Sergeant.”

“I’m fine.” Ailish mumbled.

“You’re really not. I know someone who might be able to help, a doctor.”

“No, honestly...” Please no doctors, they might kick her out. She needed the money for Ellen’s tuition, she had to stay.

“I trust her, she’s with Trinity. Her name’s Wilkens. If I order you to see her you can’t say no.”

“Then I suppose it’s settled.” Great, just great.

“Indeed.”

He suddenly pulled his gloves off and took her hand in his. Ailish fought not to pull back out of his grasp. Was this really appropriate? Her free hand was reaching for her pistol when she realised he was just checking her pulse.

“Much better. Almost back to normal.”

She managed a small smile. “Thank you Commander.”

Ailish realised her hand felt strange under his, like a bug was crawling on her. She glanced down and started. “Your...uh, your hand is bleeding.”

Fresh blood was running down between her fingers onto the table. It was creepy as hell, she tried not to shiver. She’d been a bit squeamish about blood since she’d seen a literal underground river of it in Japan.

He didn’t react, just looked straight into her eyes. Ailish didn’t know what he expected her to do. She could still feel it trickling down her skin. Was he not alarmed that his hand had just started pouring blood? She was becoming visibly uncomfortable when he finally answered her.

“They’re old wounds. It happens sometimes.” He held up his other hand, palm facing towards her. “See?” That one was also dripping crimson.

Ailish almost gagged. Ugh, now she knew why he wore gloves all the time, even in the heat of Syria. What was the name for those wounds? Stigmata, or something like that. A sign of divine favour, apparently.

The urge to ask how he got them was overwhelming. Actually, she better not, it was maybe a touchy subject. The Commander could be...violent. She’d seen what he could do when he was pissed off. She had the fleeting thought that maybe he would hurt her, or worse, if the mood took him. Everyone else was asleep, who would know?

He spoke, jolting her back to reality. “Did you pray on Yamatai, Ailish?”

She nodded, not breaking the eye contact. “Yes sir, for my life, almost constantly.”

“And you truly believe in what we are trying to accomplish?”

“Yes sir.”

“Hmmm...”

There was a long pause, he seemed to be having an internal conversation she wasn’t privy to. Finally he nodded. “Keep your faith, Ailish. You have already been tested, and you’re still here. I believe you are destined for something greater, like myself.”

“Sir?”

He smiled at her, but it was cold and calculating, he reminded her of a shark. His eyes were suddenly dark and empty.

“The name Ailish is Celtic, yes. But did you know it has a different meaning in Hebrew?”

“You know Hebrew?” She asked in surprise. He ignored her.

“Your name means consecrated to God.”

She wasn’t sure she liked his train of thought. Ailish knew he was one of the more devout members of Trinity, but she didn’t know how deep it ran.

“I’m sorry, Commander, I’m not sure what you’re getting at...”

“I want to keep a closer eye on you, Sergeant. You report directly to me now, do you understand?”

“Yes sir.” She nodded, albeit reluctantly.

“And let me talk to Wilkens. We’ll help you, don’t skip out on Trinity yet.” He finally let go of her bloodstained hand. Ailish could smell it, metallic.

Konstantin stood up, pulling his gloves on. “I have a feeling we’re going to need you for something important.”

Ailish was dumbfounded, what had she agreed to? She didn’t like not knowing, but the Commander wasn’t a man you just said no to.

As he opened the door with a blast of cold air Konstantin turned back, giving her that empty smile again. “Get some sleep, Sergeant. That’s an order.”

“O...kay.” The door clicked shut, and he was gone.

Ailish glanced down at the mess on her hand. She felt like she’d been marked in some way.

Stigmata.

What did he mean?

Consecrated to God. What was it that Konstantin, or some other higher power had planned for her?

What was her purpose?

***

Thank you for reading!

~ Anyone who has read Behind Trinity Lines will recognise the character of Dr. Joanna Wilkens, I couldn’t not include her somehow! She is awesome and I love her. All credit to @BrittanyTheScrivener on Ao3 for Jo’s character. Her work is brilliant, if you haven’t read it I highly suggest you do

~ Sergeant Ailish Moscovitch, her family and Corporal Charlie Collins are my characters, all other characters mentioned are property of the Tomb Raider creative team and I take no ownership of them

~ I feel I should mention that nothing in this work is intended to cause offence or be blasphemous in any way. I myself am not religious at all but I am respectful of those who choose to be and anything I’ve written is only exploring character traits already displayed in the Tomb Raider video games

~ I have no current plans to update this with more chapters, it was intended to be a one-shot. I just really wanted to play with Konstantin’s heavily religious side. But if there is interest I might continue the story...what exactly does Konstantin have planned for Ailish? Where does she fit in with the events in Rise of the Tomb Raider? What will Ana think of her? What would happen if Ailish and Lara ever crossed paths? This could get interesting...

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jovialjudgebonkalmond · 4 years ago

Text

Inevitable, Ch 3

Y’all, same disclaimers. In addition to all the warnings we’ll include some explicit drug use today, ‘k? Don’t do drugs kids.

Monty held the letter, his hands trembling as he stood rooted in time. He was still licking his wounds from the traitorous blow Charlie had dealt him. They were brothers, Monty had taken the younger boy under his wing from day one and defended him, fought for him, fought beside him... and he had helped Clay Jensen send him to jail. Yes, some part of him was aware that he was booked initially for messing with Tyler, and the murder charges were tacked on after. But it seemed awfully convenient that Tyler chose the moment that Clay was the one facing jail time to report what he had done.

And, clearly, they had gotten to Charlie. And Charlie gave them the keys they needed to clear Clay's name and fucking sell him out for a crime he didn't commit.

So what could Charlie possibly want with him now. His fist crumpled the envelope.

"Wooooooo!" He bellowed, tapping the keg. "We are getting FUCKED UP TONIGHT!"

Charlie laughed, bringing two trays out of his pantry. His dad was out town for the weekend and although they had lost their game that night spectacularly they were going full steam ahead with Charlie's first party.

"I made brownies." He declared, delighted. Monty stared at him, slightly taken aback. One of the other guys snorted, shaking his head.

"Fuck you," Monty said, rounding on him and grabbing a brownie off of the tray, "Charlie boy made brownies and we're all fucking having one." He took a bite, his eyes crossing momentarily as he groaned. "That's delicious."

"Still talking with your mouth full?" Justin teased, shaking his head as he grabbed a brownie.

"Shut up, I'm enjoying my foodgasm." He grumbled through a full mouth pointedly.

"Fuck, these are actually really good. Good job Charlie." Justin said, passing one to Zack.

"Everyone have a fucking brownie. Charlie made brownies." Zach yelled. And, well, Zach was the captain.

It didn't take long before the cheerleaders, the other girlfriends, students from other schools and students from Liberty who definitely weren't invited trickled in. The party spilled through the house and into the front yard and the back yard like a fountain of youth. The music reverberated through the walls like a united heartbeat. Booze was strewn throughout the kitchen, any poison was yours to pick.

Monty found himself in the backyard, nonchalantly rubbing the leaves on the shrubs along the fence. He couldn't understand it...but they just felt so amazing.. Zach staggered up to him, leaning heavily on his shoulder as he stumbled with his crutches.

"Buddy," he slurred, "Look, I wouldn't generally be talking to you right now. But its my brotherly duty to inform you that somebody is attempting to beat your record at Edward 40hands."

Monty gasped incredulously, dropping the leaf and putting his hand to his mouth.

"Noooo way, that's FUCKING SACRILEGE!"

Zach nodded solemnly.

"It is absolutely." He agreed, running his hand over Monty's flannel. "Damn buddy, this is soft."

"Walmart man, walmart."

"Ew." Zach sneered, pushing off of him and staggering off in a zig-zag. "Time to defend your title."

Monty followed him, shuffling his feet along the dewy grass. It was like a gigantic shag carpet that covered like the entire earth. Mind blowing.

"This is some bull SHIT!" He declared, grabbing two bottles of the malted beer. Zach taped them to his hands and opened them. The other boy, who was from another school, laughed.

"I am going to beat you, de la Cruz."

"That's what your dad said last night after I fucked your mom." Monty countered, letting out a delighted giggle.

"What are you, 8?" Foley said, shaking his head. Monty just laughed harder, he never seemed to mind when he was the only one laughing at his jokes.

"3... 2....1!" Zach yelled. "CHUG!"

Monty snapped to attention and began to chug, feeling the weirdly soy sauce tasting beer froth heavily in his gut. He managed to finish one in 4 seconds. The other guy was hot on his tail with about a quarter left. He felt like a marionette on tangled strings that toddler had decided to hold in the air and spin.

He staggered and belched, grateful he didn't vomit, yet. It was wet and close.

"Hoooooo!" He crowed, seeing the other guy finish his first one. He pounded his second one back, tilting his head back and staggering until he was standing on only one foot.

"Monty's gonna barf. He always does, eventually. Usually after breaking a bunch of shit and one or two faces." Justin warned Charlie. Charlie shrugged.

"That's fucking masterful." The taller boy said in awe. Monty finished the second one even faster. He pumped his fist in the air with the bottle still on it and yelled a battle cry into the night sky.

"I AM THE FUCKING CHAMPIOOOOOOOONNNNNNN!" He crowed, tripping over his own feet. He felt the air rush passed his face and he started to giggle once more. It tickled.

"Oops, careful." Charlie muttered in his ear, arms looped under Monty's left bicep while Zach held on to his right, laughing.

"The champion of knocking yourself out." He jested, cutting the tape off of his hands.

"Are you sober enough to be handling scissors right now, Zachy?"

"Absolutely not."

"Please don't do a Hannah on my wrists."

"That's not funny asshole."

"Its kind of funny."

"Fuck you Monty."

Monty laughed. "Is that all you fuckers have to say to me now? Fuck me?"

"Yes." Justin interjected, helping Zach and Charlie haul Monty to his feet. Monty held on to Justin for a moment to steady himself before he staggered into the house again, tripping over the lip of the patio door and almost taking out a weird, expensive looking bust statue of some old dude.

"Excuse me sir, I don't want to dance with you." He muttered, "I want 'nother brownie." He slurred.

Charlie gripped on to his arm once more, guiding him into the kitchen. "Ah, probaaaaably not a great idea." Charlie giggled.

"But they're deliiiiicious." Monty cooed, pulling his best puppydog face. He tried to imagine he was Justin. He wasn't sure it worked.

"Aww." Charlie muttered, an untraceable but vaguely familiar softness to his eyes and his hands as he held on to Monty, "The thing is, there's just so much MDMA in the brownies."

Monty snorted, shaking his head.

"What?"

"In the brownies. I drugged the brownies."

Monty stared at him, incredulous as he felt his skin quivering as though it was its own entity.

"And here I thought you were just this beautiful, innocent ray of sunshine waiting to be corrupted...and Jesus Christ I am so fucking high right now." He lamented as the reality of it all dawned on him.

"Oh ya. You should see your eyes. You've got like, no irises left. Its kind of scary. Like Dean Winchester in Supernatural season 10."

Monty blinked. "I didn't understand a word of that. But I am HIIIIIIGH." He started to jump around to the erratic cadence of his heartbeat. Charlie quickly joined in. It didn't take long for them to start a miniature mosh pit of football players jumping and slamming into each other in the kitchen.

The air was electric, it had a current, and Monty swore he could feel it caressing him. It took a little while before he noticed Justin wasn't joining in on the fun. He found his teammate sitting on the floor in the library.

The goddamned house had a fucking library.

He was caressing the carpet slowly, but his expression was unbelievably pouty.

"FOLEY!" Monty hollered, making the other boy jump within an inch of his life.

"Fucking hell Monty." He griped, "My heart is racing already as it is." Monty flopped down beside him.

"What's up."

"You're the last asshole here that I want to talk to."

Monty groaned and sighed.

"Don't be a downer. You can pretend not to hate me for one night. We were brothers once, we still are."

"No we aren't. Not anymore."

"What's the matter." Monty shoved his shoulder into Justin's gently, the connection sending fireworks radiating through his body.

"I'm thinking about Jess and how I fucked everything up." Justin said brokenly, "I love her, man, I really love her...and my heart is racing and I can't calm down."

"Woah woah. Take a breath." Monty said calmly. Justin looked at him with that broken, puppy dog eyed face.

"I can't."

"You can. Breathe with me." He took a deep breath, feeling himself melt into the carpet like butter, but sparkle...y... as he closed his eyes. He exhaled and glanced at Justin who seemed to be slowly calming down.

"My heart is still racing."

"That would be because Charlie drugged the brownies."

Justin did a double take. "He what?!"

"He put Molly in the brownies." Monty laughed, "And I thought I was corrupting him. I was so wrong. Holy shit. That boy has an angel's face but-"

Justin stared at him, unimpressed. "Right, that has nothing to do with your influence."

"When have I ever cooked for you? I'd have to do that in order to like, even ever secretly drug anybody which I have never done and oh my god this carpet feels so good."

He ran his fingers over it and stared at Justin imploringly.

"Its like, as good as sex." He insisted. Justin ran his fingers over it, laughing slowly until it turned into a giggle, which Monty returned.

"Nah man, you aren't having the right kind of sex if this is what sex feels like."

"I don't know about that." Monty quipped, his mind drifting to the only thing that was missing from this perfect night...

He didn't remember leaving Justin in the library but he found himself in the bathroom, running his fingers over the tile walls of the shower until he decided to clamor in. He tripped over the side of the marble tub and almost smacked his head off the wall but in some sort of feat of drunken prowess he managed to dance like a wet noodle in mid air and slid down the smooth surface without injury.

"Oohhhhhoooo..." He cooed, listening to his own voice echo back to him like a melody that conjoined perfectly, to his ears anyway, with the music pounding throughout the entire house. He was pretty certain he could hear some people hooking up in the next room. There was also a solid chance he found his way to the bathroom by literally feeling up the walls and railings of the house in an elaborate Indiana Jones fantasy.

He flipped the showerhead on and played with the water's temperature, feeling the droplets soak through the front of his shirt and running down the front of his pants. Only one thing was missing.

He pulled his phone out of his back pocket and feverishly clicked call, biting his lip.

"What the...Monty?" An incredibly groggy voice answered on the other end. Monty's face split into a wide grin and he slid up and down the tub like a slip and slide, using his legs to propel himself at the front of the tub and sloshing water out over the edges.

"You sound so sleepy." He giggled.

"Uh...Monty, its 3 in the morning."

"What is time, anyway." Monty countered ponderously, "It passes so meaninglessly."

He heard Winston laugh softly and he felt the fireworks inside of his body exploding and the fluttering of the tiny, papery butterflies making his heart stutter. Or, maybe, that was the drugs.

"How high are you right now?" Winston asked, sounding half exasperated half amused.

"Hello." Monty said theatrically, "It's me..."

"Beautiful, Adele... what are you doing, are you safe?"

"I'm in the tub. My clothes are so heavy and the water feels delicious. I think this could have been the best night of my life, I just realized that you are missing." He could feel Winston smiling through the phone, and he laid back into the water, resting his head on the cold marble of the tub as the shower rained down on his legs, filling the tub. He paddled his feet like a toddler, splashing up the tiles of the walls and over the edges of the tub. He didn't notice Justin enter the bathroom in a staggering heap, his abdomen dragging along the marble and wood double vanity for support.

Monty couldn't stop talking, it bubbled out like word vomit...at least it wasn't actual vomit.

"And I just love you." Monty sighed, running his free hand over the tiles, his fingertips dancing alight with the sensation. It made the hair on his arms stand up. "I just love you." He repeated.

Justin's face exploded with shock and he leaped into the tub, displacing nearly half the volume of the water on to the floor. Monty shrieked shrilly and almost dropped his phone as Justin began to thrust and grind on him, hooting with laughter and glee.

"HAVE I DIED?! DID HELL FREEZE OVER?! MONTGOMERY DE LA CRUZ SAID I LOVE YOU! TO SOMEONE! ARE YOU FAKING THIS?! IS THERE ACTUALLY A REAL PERSON ON THE OTHER END OF THAT PHONE RIGHT NOW?! WHO IS SHE?!" He screamed as he continued to pound on to Monty's thighs, the tub surrendering virtually all its contents as the water from the showerhead sprayed them. The bathroom, rest in peace.

Monty pulled his phone away from Justin as he reached for it. "No no no no." He murmured, "This one isn't for you." He shushed, pressing his fingertips against Justin's lips, giggling softly. "It's for me, only me. You understand...don't you?" Justin blinked.

"I don't know how I do, but I do man...I do. Fuck." They stared at each other for a moment, both of their eyes an inky, dilated black without any irises in sight. They wore matching, loopy grins. Monty put the phone back to his ear, suddenly fearful that Winston had hung up on him.

"I'll let you get back to your party...have fun." Winston whispered quietly into the phone. "Be safe."

"I am always safe!" Monty declared incredulously. Justin and Winston unknowingly laughed in unison. Monty heard the phone go silent as Winston hung up and his face shattered, shooting Justin a wounded puppy face.

"Does she love you too?" Justin asked, resting his head on the marble beside Monty. They really didn't fit together inside the tub very well, squashed like sardines in a can.

"I don't know...." Monty murmured. Justin made a humming noise in his throat and let Monty contemplate. "I think so?" He settled on.

"Then we have to celebrate," Justin said solemnly, "For love."

Monty nodded, with equal sudden seriousness.

"For love." He declared.

They both scrambled out of the tub, the flooded bathroom spilling into the carpeted hallway as they tripped over one another and shoved each other. They drank, heavily, the liquor slowly draining from the bottles shot after messy, spilled shot. They danced, dripping with sweat and in Monty and Justin's cases they were actually just dripping wet and soggy. And friends again, if only for just this moment held in time.

Slowly as time passed, the house began to empty, leaving a path of destruction in the party's wake. For Monty, the world was spinning off of it's axis. Gravity was all too much and yet non-existent at the same time but the - literal - ecstasy was still making him feel all too on top of the world to listening to his intoxication and sit down. He used his arms to drag himself across the walls and fell against the sofa.

Charlie was sprawled, watching the ceiling spin above him.

"That's... was eh-pic." Monty groaned, his words coming out like mashed potatoes, flopping into the sofa and sprawling over Charlie. Charlie leaned into him and laughed, running his hands over the embroidered, antique upholstery.

"I am still so fucked up." Charlie lamented with a sigh. Monty murmured in agreement, his eyes fluttering as the world spun around him dangerously. He just needed to close his eyes for a little while, but the stimulants pounding through his veins wouldn't allow him to rest. He gave up and glanced at Charlie.

"You did...good job." He breathed, his body feeling hot and cold and entirely all wrong.

"Wait...why are you wet..?" Charlie laughed, realizing Monty was dripping all over him. Monty's brows drew together in confusion.

"Am I...?"

"You're soaked." Charlie said, running his hands over Monty's shoulders. Monty shivered, closing his eyes for a moment. The room was blurring around him and it was making him feel queasy.

"Monty...?"

"Mmm?"

Monty's eyes blinked open again, and then he felt the soft warmth of the other boy's lips pressed against his. His eye's widened comically and he laid there, frozen, with his heart hammering in his chest and a wave of panic crashed over him. He pushed away clumsily and fell off the couch in a heap. He staggered to his feet, running for the kitchen. He felt it bubbling up again, word vomit maybe? No.

Actual vomit.

He retched over the garbage can, losing about a liquor store's worth of stomach contents before the entire world tilted sharply to the left and his vision went black. He crumpled to an unceremonious heap on the floor.

Monty climbed on to his bunk and pried open the vent that was level with it. He learned within a few days of his transfer (and after a victory in the squabble for the top bunk because he wasn't a fucking bottom) that the bolts were loose and clearly past inmates had used this as a stash. He popped the letter and file inside, realizing he was still crushing the envelope in his fist and tossing it in the garbage can below and replacing the bolts for appearances and settled with his elbows bent and his hands behind his head. His vein in his neck continued with its steady, relentless, tick tick ticking. He'd decide what to do about Charlie after dinner, he reasoned.

And then there was the Winston of it all...

#13rw fanfiction #13rw #monty de la cruz #montgomery de la cruz #monty x winston #winston x monty #winston williams #wonty

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