#only for someone later down the line to pop into your life and show you affection in that EXACT way

[lucaanis]

something about lucanis's romantic gift idea being a dagger (that went over poorly RIP im sorry king i would have loved it and cherished it forever) and then years later lleyth walks into his life and casually gifts him a dagger that just so happens to be a wyvern-tooth dagger with 0 prior knowledge that he's The Wyvern Guy does something to my brain

[moonstruckme]

In a week-

Hear me out: Rockstar Poly!marauders and Rockstar!reader???? Like, maybe no one knew the marauders was dating reader till they performed together for an event?????

Thanks for requesting lovely!

join the party

rockstar poly!marauders x rockstar!reader ♡ 1k words

The tabloids had started speculating when too many of your tour dates lined up. It’s only natural that you’d end up spending some time together, in the same occupation and occupying the same spheres, so you were seen with each of the boys at various eateries, at afterparties, on the street. The only problem for journalists was, they couldn’t figure out which band member you were dating. 

They were clutching at straws. A picture of you grabbing Remus’ hand to pull him into a store, an interview wherein Sirius had complimented your new single, a zoomed-in video of James carrying four coffees back up to the hotel instead of three. The speculation was all over the place, scattered and nearly baseless. 

Not after tonight. It had been Lily, the Marauders’ manager, who’d had the idea to take this story by the reins. She’d pointed out that fans were only getting more obsessed with the question of which of the boys you were dating, and with both of you releasing new albums soon, it was as good a time as any to capitalize on that interest. Plus, if you did the big reveal before any magazine could figure it out, it’d be your concert that went viral, not their publication. “More press,” she’d said enticingly, “means more people learning your names and listening to your music.” 

You’d thought the boys would be the ones to have qualms. Remus wasn’t the type to enjoy making his private life public (it was more an unfortunate side-effect of his career than a draw) and James always talked about how keeping your relationship a secret made it feel less like they had to share you with everyone else, but in the end, they got on board with Lily’s scheme quickly. You all agreed that someone was going to figure you all out sooner or later, and if your romantic life was going to be broadcast, it may as well be on your own terms. 

Still, that doesn’t mean you’re not nervous. 

“Loosen up, angel,” James says, prodding at your foot with his as you lie on Remus’ chest, picking through his usually well-guarded stash of chocolate. “This is supposed to be fun, remember?” 

“It’s not the show I’m worried about,” you say, rubbing your socked foot along his mindlessly. “I’m excited to play with you guys, I just wish we could do that without everyone making assumptions.” 

Remus hums in agreement, but Sirius makes a derisive sound, turning to look at you from the mirror. His eyeliner is half done, making one eye seem big and dangerous and the other naked. 

“You two are being so dramatic,” he says. “Of course they’re gonna assume, and they’ll be right. That’s the point.” 

You sigh, tipping your head back onto Remus’ shoulder, and he runs his hand up and down your side commiseratively. 

“It’s going to be a great show.” James tries again to lift your foul mood. You try to look less dismal in return. “You and Sirius’ voices go so well together, the crowd will love it.”

“It’s true.” Sirius smirks at you through the mirror. “And later, we’ll go to the afterparty—”

“Do we really have to?” Remus asks.

James looks sympathetic, reaching forward to rub his calf consolingly. “‘Fraid so, love. Lily says the only way to control the narrative is to talk to people after the show. We don’t have to stay the whole time, but we’ll practically be on the clock.”

“Anyway,” Sirius goes on. “We’ll go to the afterparty, and everyone will tell us how cute we are together, and everyone north of the equator will want to be us and fuck us at the same time.” 

You can tell Remus has something to say about that, but before he can, Lily pops her head into the dressing room. “Guys, the opener is finishing up,” she says, eyes lingering on each of your faces assessingly. “Everyone ready?”

“Just a second…yeah,” Sirius says, finishing his perfectly messy eyeliner. “Ready.”

Lily nods before ducking back out, off to go coordinate light technicians or whatever she does in the rush before shows. James offers you and Remus a hand each, hauling you up. You lick your thumb, wiping a bit of chocolate from the side of Remus’ mouth, and he gives you a half-smile of thanks. 

“We got this,” you whisper to him, and he takes your hand, squeezing lightly. 

“I know we do, sweetheart.” 

Sirius is the only one talking as you all make your way to the side of the stage, the crowd cheering loudly as the opening act wraps up their set. 

“Hey.” A hand lands on your shoulder, and you turn to find James attached to it. He’s looking at you with more than the usual pre-show nerves, something more like worry. “Are you really upset about this? We don’t have to go through with it, it’s not too late to tell Lily it’s off.” 

Yes it is, but he’s a sweetheart for saying so. “No, I’m okay,” you promise, reaching up to squeeze his wrist reassuringly. The other band is exiting on the opposite side of the stage, the lights going out. You’re going to be going out there any minute. “I’m excited to perform with you guys, and…and I’m ready to be done with the sneaking around. I’m just nervous, I guess.” 

James slides his hand up from your shoulder to cup your face, your hand still clasped loosely around his wrist. He smooths his thumb over your cheek fondly, eyes gone soft under the faint glaze of adrenaline. “Don’t be, sweetheart. You’re going to do great, and we’ll all be up there together.” He stoops lower so only you can hear him. “Just between us, you and Sirius sound great together, but you can hit notes he never could. They’re gonna love you out there.” 

You grin, and Sirius turns around, eyeing the both of you. “I heard my name,” he says accusingly. “What’re we talking about?”

The lights come back on, and that’s your cue. “Nothing!” you chirp, grabbing his hand and dragging him towards the stage. “Let’s go.”

[nekrosdolly]

Wesker surviving RE5. Taking a good while to recover. When he final tracks Chris many years later he sees a young woman with Chris. Obviously not Chris' wife.

Chris got a daughter. And Wesker knows how to truely break him now.

Poor girl, she gets hit on by a super hot dude not knowing that he is her dads biggest enemy

listen... this would go fucking crazy... 18+

cw; afab!reader, creep!wesker, reader is 21-ish and wesker is... *gulps*... 61, dad!chris isn't the best dad, i'm projecting big time with this one guys sorry, takes place circa re8, reader is in college, no use of y/n, chris is the kind of alcoholic dad that you don't want your boyfriend to meet because you are, in fact, embarrassed of him, wesker drives a lincoln mkz zephyr.

you look like your dad but prettier. softer, sweeter features than your father's own. your eyes are paralyzingly innocent, and he can't help himself when he lays eyes on you. you're younger than albert by a concerning amount of years, but thanks to your dad's unintentional neglect during your childhood, you've got some issues.

your father never told you about wesker- or anything relating to his line of work. how foolish of chris to not take such precautions with his daughter. you never bothered to ask, either, as you felt some sort of resentment towards your dad in your teenage years. everything he did pissed you off, especially when he was trying to bond. so of course you decided to date someone just as old, if not older than your dad, just to piss him off in return.

that's when you stumbled across wesker. he was handsome for his age, though he looks much younger and you're not sure why. the sunglasses thing confused you, though he'd told you once when you had first started talking that he has light-sensitive eyes. you, being so trusting of this nice, older man who made you feel wanted, believed him and every little thing he ever told you. he'd make you feel so warm inside, and it didn't take long for you to fall for him.

he'd made a show of falling for you, too, to keep you under his thumb. you were the type to flee at the first sign of abandonment; he couldn't have that.

your dad was shocked when you told him you'd found a boyfriend. thanks to your strained relationship, you'd hardly talked to him after leaving for college, which he blamed himself for. it had only worsened between the two of you after your mother left.

and now, at dinner, your dad thinks it's the greatest idea in the world talk about your beloved.

"so," your father starts as he saws through thick-cut steak with a serrated knife, cutting you off a piece, "this boyfriend of yours, when am i meeting him?"

"you want to meet my boyfriend?" you cock an eyebrow at your father, though he doesn't meet your gaze. his own is fixed to the bit of steak he's setting on your plate beside some vegetables.

"well, yeah. must be pretty serious if you told me about him." chris finally looks at you, setting his silverware down. you swallow.

"i don't know, dad."

"what, are you embarrassed of me?"

"i didn't say that, don't put words in my mouth." you stuff a piece of sauteed cauliflower in your mouth as chris sighs inwardly. for the next ten minutes, there's no sound except silverware clinking against your plates and your father's jaw popping here and there.

neither of you can take much more of the awkward silence.

chris clears his throat and leans back in his chair, "listen, i just want to make sure you're dating a good guy, okay?"

"yeah, sure." the bitterness and slight annoyance in your voice is hard to hide. you don't bother.

"is that a crime? wanting to look out for my kid?" he crosses his arms over his chest, getting a little defensive.

"don't you think it's a little late to play dad of the year? i'm not a child, i don't need you to look out for me."

"i know you're not a child-"

"then just stop." you're standing up from your chair, "stop trying to be a bigger part of my life. stop acting like you care. stop."

"fine, you want to be an ungrateful brat?" your dad stands up too, "then get out. take your shit and leave, or shut the hell up."

you don't really have anywhere else to go, so you slink back into your chair and reluctantly finish your food. with all the money your dad gets from his job, he's paying your tuition.

your dad downs the whiskey in his glass and gathers his dishes, leaving you to sit in silence at the dinner table.

-

your father lets the boyfriend thing go until you bring it up to him again, this time on your own.

when you bring it up to albert, he's delighted.

"i'd be honored," he tells you as he leans down to kiss your cheek, he's confident about this, which puts you at ease because you know your father isn't going to take this very well.

-

you're dressed your best, as is albert, who's got his hand on your lower back protectively. he can sense your nerves- uroboros didn't completely burn out of his system- as if they were his own, and he kisses your head as you unlock the front door. based on the black jeep in the driveway, beside albert's zephyr, your father is home. you open the door, and in a flash, you're pushed out of the way.

you didn't expect your father to have a loaded gun aimed at your boyfriend so quickly, if at all. a deep laugh sounds from albert.

"oh, chris..."

[voicesknewmyghosts]

Safe Place

Jenna is always the person others go to for comfort, she’s the anchor that grounds people. So just who is the person that she goes to for her own comfort?

It’s late in the evening when you get the call. You had just settled on the couch with a cup of tea when your phone rings and a picture of your girlfriend cuddled up in a blanket pops up on the screen. You can’t help the smile that beams onto your face; Jenna is in Romania right now shooting Wednesday, and to say you miss the little ray of sunshine is an understatement. 

You’ve been together over a year now, and every day spent with her has truly been the best of your life. She’s so gentle, caring and kind, and she makes you feel like you could take on the world when you look at her, her big brown eyes always gazing up at you with the most love anyone could ever show someone. 

But when you pick up the phone to answer her, you know immediately something is wrong. Her voice is shaky, quiet, and you can tell she’s holding back tears when she greets you. 

“Babygirl what’s wrong?” You’re on high alert now, cup of tea forgotten as you sit on the edge of the couch, ready to fight anyone and anything that’s upset your girl. 

“I just-“ her voice breaks, and along with it your heart “it’s too much y/n, it just feels all too much right now.” 

She erupts into sobs, and you do all you can to calm her down all while feeling your heart shatter into a million pieces at every gut wrenching cry. You tell her over and over again all the sweet things you can think of, telling her she’ll be okay and that you’re there for her, that she’ll get through this. 

It feels like infinity has passed before the sobs turn into sniffles and the broken girl at the other end of the line quietens down. 

“Oh Jenna.” Is all you can say, unable to think of anything that is capable of showing how much you want to just come and wrap her up in your arms and protect her from the world. 

You both sit in silence for a while, content with the other's company. You can hear Jenna shuffle under her blankets; no doubt wrapping herself up like a burrito like she does at home, which makes the smile return to your face as you imagine her head poking out of the huge mountain of blankets that she no doubt had on top of her. 

A thought pops into your head; one forged by the longing to have your girl in your arms. Its a crazy one; part of you doesn’t even want to bring it up to Jenna in fear of getting her hopes up, but the more you think about her alone in a room in Romania sobbing her heart out and feeling like the world is crushing her spirit the more you think you can make it work. 

“Jenna, how would you feel if I booked a flight to come visit?” 

You hardly even finish your sentence before the excited “yes!” screams out of your phone's speakers and less than an hour later you have your flight booked for the next day and your girl falls asleep with a smile on her face for the first time in a while. 

Jenna can’t stop the excitement she feels knowing you’re going to be here the next day. Sleep becomes a distant memory as she messages the cast group chat telling them they’re going to finally meet the woman she can’t shut up about. Joy is the first to respond, with a bunch of heart emoji’s and how excited she is to meet you. Emma, Hunter and Georgie soon follow, all equally ecstatic. Jenna just can’t wait to pick you up from the airport; you have a way of making her feel so safe and grounded that no one else has ever come close to achieving. She loves being the rock for her friends - she truly does, knowing they come to her for a pep talk or a hug when they’re feeling anxious about an interview or an upcoming scene - it makes her feel good in herself knowing she’s the person that other people find comfort in. But, she gets anxious too, and the only person she ever feels like she can truly be vulnerable and protected with is finally going to be in her arms in less than 12 hours. 

You see her before she sees you. She’s wrapped in a big coat, dyed black hair up in a messy bun, eyes scanning the room for any sightings of you. You can see a security guard with her, keeping his distance respectfully. She takes your breath away, so much so you stop dead in the middle of the airport, unable to tear your eyes away from the woman who stole your heart. 

The second she has eyes on you she’s running, jumping into your arms and wrapping her limbs around you tight, like your very own koala bear. You drop your bags and wrap your own arms around her, holding her tight to you and breathing in the scent that you missed so much. The world around you both seems to stop, the only thing existing is each other. Having her in your arms once more is the best feeling in the whole universe and you never want to let her go. 

Sadly, a subtle cough from Jenna’s security lets her know it's time to go, and she begrudgingly unwraps herself from around you. Then she looks up at you with those beautiful brown eyes and you feel your breath being stolen from your lungs as she tugs on your arm, leading you out of the airport and towards where she calls home for the next few months. 

She clings to you in the car, her head resting on your shoulder as you hold her hands in yours, rubbing gentle circles on the soft skin of her palm. You can’t help but stare at her the whole way, unable to tear your eyes away from the person who makes you happiest in this world. You can see the tiredness behind her eyes though; you can see how exhausted she is, how much pressure she has had put on her shoulders with this new project of hers. 

Of course, you’ll always support Jenna in everything she does, that will never be in doubt. But when you had that call from her and when you can see just how exhausted mentally and physically she is; you just wish you could take it all away and shelter her from all of the pressure.

You arrive at the cast's hotel not long after Jenna closes her eyes and her head drifts from your shoulder down to your lap. You hate to wake her, knowing the ridiculously early starts and long days she has. You make a decision while staring down at the sleeping beauty and quietly ask the security guard who drove you whether there was someone who could help with your bags. Once he confirms yes, you gently slide out from Jenna’s death grip and open her door, cradling her into your arms as she grumbles something about wanting to sleep more. You can’t help the chuckle that escapes you at how cute Jenna looks cradled in your arms, her arms flailing around until they find their target: a death grip around your neck. You give her a quick kiss on the forehead and shush her as she starts to grumble again and follow the security guard to Jenna’s apartment. 

Placing Jenna gently down on her bed, you get her changed into some comfy pyjamas before quickly doing the same for yourself. You leave your bags in the living room, deciding that getting into bed with your girl is the only priority right now; unpacking can be left until she’s working the following morning. 

Your heart soars as she reaches for you the second the bed dips signalling your arrival. Her arms wrap around your shoulders and her legs entwine with yours; her hot breath sending tingles down your spine as it tickles the side of your neck. You give her a quick kiss before succumbing to sleep yourself, finally feeling like a piece of you has been returned. 

The alarm rips through the peaceful silence that had fallen over the room. You’re sure you only fell asleep two minutes ago, but judging by Jenna frantically flailing around for her phone to shut off the noise and groaning to herself, you can imagine this is the early start she’s been telling you about.

How she does this everyday is completely beyond you. 

You reach out a gentle hand to rub the tired back in front of you, and you smile to yourself as Jenna seems to relax a little under your touch, almost as if she had to remind herself that this is real, that she’s not alone anymore. 

“Good morning my love.” Her voice is groggy and deep as she leans over to place a kiss on your lips. Her small hands frame your face, her eyes staring into yours. 

This is all you wanted out of life; to find someone who you would travel to the ends of the earth for, and who would do the same for you. Looking into Jenna’s exhausted eyes as you stroke her hair, you know you would do anything to keep this girl from any and all harm. 

“Come on darling,” you begin, kissing her chin, “let's get you some breakfast.” 

Jenna tries to fight you, telling you you should get back in bed and sleep, but she’s fighting a losing battle as you’re already up and out of bed, thoughts of what you can make for your girl flooding through your mind. 

You let Jenna get herself ready in the bathroom as you cook a nice big breakfast out of the things she has in her fridge. You know she hasn’t eaten well since she got here, so you make a promise to yourself that once she’s at work you’ll head into town and get some groceries so you can get as much food in her as possible. 

Just as you finish plating up your breakfasts, the door to the bathroom opens and out comes the picture of beauty; the smile she has on her face is enough to knock you to the floor, but you manage to stay upright. Even with no makeup on and looking as exhausted as she does, she is the most beautiful woman in the world in your eyes, no doubt about it. She strides over to you and stands on her tiptoes with her hands gripping either side of your face and kisses you with a fervent intensity that leaves you breathless and gasping for more. Breakfast is almost forgotten as you reach for her hips, ready to pick her up and toss her into the bedroom until a small hand on your chest stops you dead in your tracks, and when you look at the woman capable of destroying you and piecing you back to together bit by bit, the smirk she has on her face tells you all you need to know. 

Be good, and I’ll reward you later. 

It’s unspoken; it normally is - Jenna has a way of looking at you and conveying anything she needs you to know without saying a single word. You know if you play your cards right and behave today that you might just end up getting the one thing you both have been endlessly craving for the last few months apart. With a wink and a sway of her hips, Jenna takes a seat at the table while you place her food in front of her and take a seat next to her. You interlace your fingers together while you eat in comfortable silence, content with the company of your favourite person. 

Before you know it, there’s a knock on the door and Jenna is sighing while getting up, collecting her things for the day while you begin cleaning up. 

“I’ll see you later.” She mumbles into your chest as you pull her in for a hug. 

“You will indeed.” You kiss her forehead and open the door for her, waving to her as she does the same. And then she’s gone; off to work until she’s utterly exhausted and spent only to do it all over again the next day. You wish she didn’t have to work so hard; you wish you could somehow make this experience easier on her mental health, but you know that she loves this job, and sadly the toll of working in this industry is well known. 

But, what you can do is be somewhere Jenna can come to relax, to be vulnerable and to let all of the pressure slide off her shoulders. And so, with a little smile to yourself, you get ready to head into town to get groceries. 

It may not be much, but if you can take care of Jenna in all the small ways she hasn’t had the energy to do herself, then you can go to sleep happy knowing that at least with you, Jenna is taken care of. 

And that at least with you, Jenna has her safe place.

[shanastoryteller]

hallo! i hope your day is going well!! what’s one of your favorite details that you’ve written about siat recently? or if not that, in another fic or snippet

in ta'burni, after tony's parents die when he's 17 at MIT, we get this from rhodey's pov (bold for emphasis)

“They’ll eat you alive,” Tony says, reminding him a lot of his mother just then. Rhodey watches Tony get in a limo surrounded by cameras, his black jeans his own and mostly that color because of one too many motor oil stains and the black button down too long and too big in the shoulders because it’s Rhodey’s, a streak of black against the blinding white of a thousand camera flashes.

later in the fic pepper meets tony when he's 30 and she's 25 and showing him around a gallery auction, she compares him to barton newmans's now ii

this is what she says about it:

“Barnett Newman completed this three years before his death and it’s a wonderful piece,” she says, head held high. “He said he wanted to paint as if inventing painting from scratch, as if no one had ever done it before.”

“It’s just a line,” he repeats, still amused. “That’s what he thought needed to be reinvented?”

She doubts she’ll ever be standing in front of Tony Stark again so she has to get this right, has to say this in a way that hopefully won’t offend him, because the other option is to say something she doesn’t mean and that’s a waste for both of them. “It’s a perfect line. Perfectly straight, perfectly black, and surrounded by perfect white. Not in color, it’s not the blackest black or the whitest white, but the tone matches perfectly. Their perfection is only obvious in their togetherness.” She could stop here, she could not embarrass herself in front of the most powerful businessman in the world, but she has achieved nothing in her life by being a coward. “The first time you drew a line, it wasn’t perfect. It probably wasn’t even straight. But you drew it again, and again, until it was, and now the lines you draw are turned into designs and schematics that change the world, from weapons you send overseas to the processor in my computer. You design as if you are inventing the world from scratch, which is why you’re doing things that others claim can’t be done, which is why you’re doing it better the rest of them.”

He's not smiling anymore, but he doesn’t look angry, or bored, or anything that will get her fired.

She swallows and continues, “Barnett Newman said of his paintings that he hoped that they had the impact of giving someone the feeling of their own totality, their own separateness, their own individuality, as that’s what they did for him. This line is you and everything that you will do. You make it look easy, Mr. Stark, but that doesn’t mean it is.”

in iron man 2, the print that he takes down and replaces with a color pop portrait of iron man is now ii

i figured the chance of anyone noticing was pretty much 0, especially when part of it is in the movie and not the fic

but for me it was tony's life

before. becoming. became

[echantedtoon]

Ocean Deep Ch2 Spectacles And Scales

((Warnings for mistreatment of the mers by the sideshow owner and some of the other people, Buying and selling of mers, mistreatment of animals briefly shown, etc.

 typed in random anime man into Google and this is the first photo that popped up so I'm using this as reference to what Akira looks like.

https://images.app.goo.gl/Kxk9rU7mkMZRiRXbA)

It was a beautiful day today. 

That's usually what the default positive thing you thought was whenever something went wrong or you were feeling bad. You'd look outside and even if it was raining, you'd still find something outside to think about. The clouds looked like funny bunnies today. The next the sky would be a beautiful blue. Those flowers look wonderful. The snow looked sparkly in the sunlight. 

Anything to stay positive in the crazy world ruled by creatures unseen and more powerful than the average human. You've never seen one personally thank the gods, but you knew something must've been going on with all of the disappearances that's happened for hundreds of years. Whether it's some humans, natural accidents, runaways, or something else you didn't know but you weren't going to be one of the ones that ended up disappearing. You had a plan for your life. 

You wanted to work on yourself and maybe find someone to settle down with, and then maybe have a few children later down the line when your career was solid and you knew you'd be secure enough. Maybe even adopt a few animals! You've always wanted a small pony! Maybe a big dog you could roughhouse and snuggle with. That'd be nice. Just you and a domestic life. But for now you were just content with just working at the local florist shop and putting your life together. 

It wasn't bad. You got to help with lots of pretty flowers all year round, there was always the pleasant smell of flowers in the air, it earnt you a decent living, it wasn't too far from your house, and your boss was a very kind old lady who's been doing this for years. You were lucky to have found such a good job. 

"Thank you for coming by. It's always so nice to see you again, Akira." 

You briefly looked up from where you were watering a pot of begonias with an old teapot. One of the local men was in today buying a small bouquet of peonies for whatever reason he wanted them. Being a decently big town, you kinda knew him but with the town still being big you also didn't. You knew this man, Akira, was the son of one of the fishermen families while his mother's family were glass blowers. You only knew that because your boss mentioned that Akira's mother's family were the ones that made the giant glass greenhouse connected to her house, she used it to grow all her flowers year round. But outside of that and just seeing him around every so often, you didn't personally know Akira. But he also had a reputation for being handsome. 

He certainly has the looks to back that up. Greyish-white soft hair. Silver eyes. A tall muscular physic. And a handsome face that looked like it was sculpted by an excellent artist. You only gave a brief look over your shoulder as the two spoke.. before going back to work. It'd be rude to stare while they spoke and you had a job to do which was to finish watering these plants. 

"You too, Mrs. Satoshi. And may I say you don't look a day over forty."

A strong of chuckles that had you rolling your eyes and inwardly groaning. "Oh, stop. You always say the sweetest things to people."

"I can't help it if I wear my heart on my sleeve.~ But while I'm here, I might as well give you this." You heard a distant sound of rustling paper and a moment later Akira spoke again. "Here! I've been handing these out for everyone to see."

There was a pause of silence before your boss hummed again. "Your uncle finally gotten that display up has he?"

"Absolutely! He calls it an 'ocean viewing through glass' and he's planning on showing it off at the end of this month!"

"Having a small tank of pet fish is one thing, but who's ever heard of people keeping giant tanks full of fish just for people to gawk at? Anyone can just go down to the beach and see most of the critters in the water."

Akira gave a deep chuckle in return. "Oh it's going to be be so much more than 'just fish's, Mrs. Satoshi. The opening night is free to everyone who shows up, and there's going to be plenty to see."

"I'll certainly think about it. Tell your family I said hi."

"I certainly will." Footsteps carried away the man from the counter before they slowly came to a stop right behind you. The sudden feeling on eyes on your back had you pausing before turning over your shoulder and finding Akira staring at you with a half lidded smiling face. "I can't forget about your lovely assistant now!"

You blinked and a second later a hand held up a piece of paper to you. F/c eyes glanced at the parchment and noticed that he must've pulled it out of the bag slung over his right shoulder since a few more corners of paper were sticking out and the top opening. The paper made some crinkle sounds when he waggled it at you pulling your attention back to it, and slowly you reached out to take it from him. Your eyes gazed over it and it became pretty apparent that it was a flyer advertising the opening of a new business. Hand written too, detailing the opening date and time and other things. 

"Oh...Thank you," you remained polite.

He smiled maybe a bit too widely but only turned to start walking away with the flowers in his hands. "I hope to see you there."

You watched as he left through the front door and slowly looked back to the flier in your hands.. before just putting it away and carrying on with your business. The roses were in need of the water and the flowers weren't going to water themselves.

"You know I think he likes you."

"...What?" Your head turned to the smiling older lady.

"He passed by here practically every day and he always gives a look at you through the window," she teased, "He's a rather handsome young man, and his family has such a profitable business."

You grimaced. "That's just really creepy. If he likes me then he can be a man and talk to me about it, and I don't even know him. We're strangers. Besides-" You turned back to the flowers pouring more water from the large teapot in your hands. "-he's not my type."

You just wasn't feeling like getting close to Akira. He gave you a bad feeling, and genuinely he really was not you type. He looked really handsome but it was more than good looks that counts. What about personality and character? Nah. The other girls could have him for all you cared. The older woman only hummed in thought before shrugging.

"If you say so, Dear. Just remember you're only young once. It wouldn't hurt to find someone nice to settle down with before it's too late."

"I also have my whole life ahead of me so I have plenty of time to settle down and find someone if I even wanted to. I don't want to rush into anything that I'll just regret later." 

You didn't want to end up like so many unhappy couples you've seen over the years. Fighting and yelling and having affairs- No. You didn't want that. You were going to take your time and if someone comes along then it'll happen. If not- Well you can always get that pony or dog you've always wanted to keep you company. You didn't need to be married or have children to have a good fulfilling life. 

Besides you were perfectly content right now with how things were. You didn't need anything changing or any surprises. Everything was just fine how they were. Not a single thing needs to be added. 

"Are you going to his uncle's grand opening? I think it would be quite interesting to see what all of the excitements about."

"I don't think so. It's just going to be a bunch of fish in giant tanks. If you ask me, that's too much work to maintain. Not to mention that the amount of cleaning the tanks and constantly hauling new water to replace the old sea water-..." You shook your head. "No. Not worth it if you ask me."

She hummed turning to grab a pair of tweezers and cut away the dead leaves off a miniature rose bush. "Well you never know. It might be fun to just go and look. It is going to be free after all. "

"Maybe."

You both left the conversation at that and didn't bring it up again. There was no point. You didn't want to go and really you shouldn't to not give Akira any more encouragement for his creepy behavior. It made a shudder run through your spine and you cringe in disgust. You'd definitely be avoiding him from now on. You'd just ignore him and everything would be fine again.

With a sigh of relief, you just went on about your day and ignored the feeling in the back of your mind. It was nothing.

You hadn't heard anything else for the next three days, and it was just business as usual around here. You were having a peaceful time with your work and had all but forgotten about the encounter with Akira or his uncle's 'grand opening' except for the occasional old flier on the ground or the occasional topic of it being brought up in conversation, but it wasn't very often and you'd forget about it quickly after anyways. But there was one strange thing that happened to at the end of the week. It was really a spectacle. Really it was. Not really a thing you'd usually see around these parts. You hadn't even noticed it really, with your back towards the roads. You were too busy helping your elderly boss pick up big plant pots outside that her frail body was too weak to lift. You'd be needing these for an upcoming big delivery for (ironically) Akira's Aunt Linna as you were informed by your boss. Apparently she was planning on adding a whole lot of giant rose bushes around her home and these heavy pots were gonna be used to transport the bushes over once they were ready in one of two weeks. Unfortunately your work was interrupted by your boss when the kind lady looked over her shoulder and gasped catching your attention.

"My oh my." She looked surprised with a hand to her chin.

You followed her gaze and paused surprised as well as a few other people on the streets around you. Coming from up the road was two giant stallions being pulled along by a strong looking middle aged man. He was cursing at the animals straining to pull along their cargo and angrily whipping the reigns with each curse.

"That's sick!" The words escaped you before you could even think.

A nasiating disgusted feeling churned about in your stomach as you watched as the poor animals strained and slowly came up the road and past you both. The sounds those poor ponies were making made you want to grab a whip and swing it at the gruff looking man as they slowly walked by you. The cargo they were straining to pull was...Well you couldn't tell what it was. It was BIG. At least six feet high, ten feet long, very rectangular, and covered by old wet tarps tied together by ropes. Your eyes widened looking up at the thing as it slowly pulled past you with the man yelling at the struggling ponies, briefly a shadow fell over you both and you froze solid as it continued to be pulled by you both. 

"It ..seems like they had come up from the beach. That's probably one of the tanks Akira's uncle wanted for his opening," your boss eventually broke the silence and pointed out the size of the presumed tank.

You didn't say anything about it for you were frozen in shock. For your eyes could have SWORN they saw the brief sight of a hand and half a face peeking out at you from a gap in the tarps..The light. You told yourself. It was just the light playing tricks on you. There's no way a human was under that tarp. You were seeing things. You shouldn't involve yourself in this. Forget it. Don't get involved in this. It wasn't worth it. Nothing good would ever come out of sticking your nose into other people's business anyways. You turned away from the sight of the cart disappearing and the distant cries of the man's cussing to place another heavy pot down off to the side, the last thing you needed was unnecessary drama in your life. 

Besides it's not like whatever Akira's family was doing would affect you.

[melancholyshadow]

Hello! I couldn’t help but see your post about writing for COD men! If so, could you please do one that’s Price x reader where she takes a bullet for him? Angst and Fluff. Typical scenario I know, but there’s never enough Price. If that doesn’t work that’s okay too! Thank you!!

Desk Duty

pairing: john price x female!reader

word count: around 2.1k

content warnings: canon-level violence, injured!reader, mentions of someone getting shot, mentions of gun-shot wound, medical talk, kissing an authority figure.

an: hello! first off, thank you anon for this lovely request, hopefully you enjoy it, i am a bit rusty bc i have not written in forever. second off, to address the elephant in the room, i know this isn't marvel related, but i'm really into call of duty right now, and wanted to write for them instead. third of all, if you liked this piece, and want to request your own, my request are open! i am really only writing for cod men right now and maybe some select marvel people. thanks guys!!!!

You never understood the saying “It happened in slow motion.” 

This was real life, nothing happened in slow motion, that was physically impossible. 

Or so you thought. 

All five of you were pinned down, trapped in a warehouse, taking massive amounts of fire. The enemy was closing in fast, and you were vastly outnumbered. It was the five of you, and a couple Marines, that’s it. This was supposed to be a run-of-the-mill mission, no one expected it to go sideways. Especially not this bad. 

“Low on ammo, Captain!” Gaz yelled, tossing an empty magazine behind him. “Conserve. Wait till they get closer!” Price barked back. “Where is air support, sir?” You asked, as the both of you crouched down to reload. “Five minutes out, we just need to make it till then.” He explained, popping back up and firing towards the building across the way. Five minutes was a long time in combat, almost too long. 

When you had this much adrenaline pumping through your body, it was natural to get tunnel vision. Only able to focus on the thing standing right in front of you, and at the moment that was about twenty enemy soldiers. Except, they weren’t all in front of you. They were obviously more well-versed in the area than you guys were, so they knew about a door to the warehouse you didn’t.

Out of your peripheral vision, you saw the sudden flood of light come from the door being ripped open. That’s when everything slowed way down. Three of them rushed inside, you were able to drop the first two, but the third one was too quick. And when his eyes landed on Price who was still facing towards the opposing building, you panicked. So, you did the first thing you could think of. 

Grabbing your Captain’s ‘oh shit’ strap on the back of his plate carrier, you pulled him to the ground and out of the line of fire. As you kneeled beside Price, the enemy’s gun repositioned on you and before you had time to raise your own weapon again, he fired. The bullet connected, causing you to fall back against the cold concrete. Just as quickly as you fell, you watched the enemy’s body fall to the same concrete. Price let two bullets rip, one into his leg and the other into his skull. You stared up at the ceiling, clutching your wound, trying to apply pressure. 

“Monarch is down!”

You woke up in the hospital two days later. 

Apparently you passed out from blood loss. 

It had been a tricky wound to treat in the field, so you had to wait for the air support to show up. 

It was difficult for you to remember everything leading up to you being injured. You don’t remember the actual impact or being carried to the helo. It was all hazy. Gaz, Soap, and Ghost had gone over the incident with you many times, but it just never really came back to you. Not that you were complaining. No one wants to remember getting shot.

After a week and a half in the hospital, a month of physical therapy, and another month of training and sparring with your teammates to get you back in shape, you were finally cleared for the field. It was a miracle that you were able to bounce back this fast, it usually took many months to recover fully from an injury like that, but you liked to think it was solely because of how stubborn you were. 

Everyone was super happy to have you back. Well, almost. There was only one more step you had to do: submit your medical release form to Price and have him approve it. You had only seen the Captain a few times, in passing, since the incident. It felt like he was avoiding you entirely, but you chalked it up to all the paperwork he was probably buried under right now, especially when a mission went that far south. 

You walked down the familiar hallway, Price's office was at the very end. Nervousness flooded your body with every step you took. What could you possibly be nervous about? Was it because you were afraid to face him for the first time in over two months? Of course not, he was the same Price he was during that mission. Were you nervous he wasn’t going to approve you for medical release? No, he had to approve it, hell, you saved his damn life. 

As you approached the door, you took a deep breath. You noticed a shake in your hand as you brought it up to knock on the door. Three loud racks echoed down the hallway. “Come in.” He called from the otherside of the door. You gripped the doorknob, turning it and pushed the door open with your shoulder. Price, as you suspected, was looking over a mountain of paperwork. His signature cap was discarded, and he was dressed in civilian clothes. He was in on his day off. 

“Hello.” You greeted him, closing the door behind you. “Sergeant.” A man of few words, as always, but his tone seemed different. “I hate to do this, but I have some more paperwork for you.” You said with an awkward chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. “It’s my medical release form.” You added.

“Set it there.” He pointed to the only clear space on his desk. His words sounded cold. After placing down the documents, you stood there for a few more seconds, seeing if he would say anything else. You know, ask how you were doing, or something, literally anything. But to no avail. 

So, you turned on your heels to walk out without another word. As you touched the doorknob, Price cleared his throat to speak, spiking some hope into your heart. “I’m putting you on desk duty.” Almost instantly, your stomach dropped past your toes. He said it so monotoned, no ounce of emotion in his voice.

For a few moments you were stunned, left speechless. But once that initial shock wore off, anger began to bubble up in your chest. You could feel the warmth overtaking every inch of your body and your chest began rising and falling irregularly.

“W-What? But I’ve been cleared for the field.” You tried to keep your tone even, unwavering as you slowly turned around to face him. He had finally looked up, head propped up on his palm. Like his tone, there was no legible emotion on his face. No anger, sadness, or guilt. “Desk duty until further notice.” This time it sounded dismissive, like the conversation was over. What is said is done. Clicking his pen twice, his eyes landed back on the report in front of him. 

“This is bullshit!” The words climbed up your throat before you could stop them. You could feel your fists clenching and unclenching at your sides. Your words caught the Captain off guard, but he only showed it for a moment. Not once had you ever questioned Price, or his intentions. But this time was different, if he thought you were gonna take this lying down,  he was dead wrong. 

“I’d watch your tone, Sergeant.” He spoke at you more sternly than before, clearly agitated by your outburst. And what he said next only added insult to injury, literally, “After that stunt you pulled, you’re lucky I don’t reassign you.” He used his pen to point at you, reaffirming his statement. That’s when all the logic and camaraderie flew out the window.

“You mean the one where I saved your life?” You spoke with malice, like venom was dripping off your tongue. “God forbid, I interfere with you taking a bullet to the skull.” You scoffed. “Is that the stunt you’re referring to?” You mocked him, echoing the term ‘stunt,.' You were trying to get under his skin, whether you knew that at the moment or not.

The Captain was boiling, you could practically see the steam coming from his ears. As you open your mouth to further instigate the situation, he slams his fists down on his desk. He stands up quickly, his chair tumbled to the ground behind him. “Exactly that stunt!” He barks. You’re the one caught off guard this time. It was rare for the Captain to raise his voice outside the field. Especially to you. 

“You could have got yourself killed, soldier!” It only takes him a few steps to be in your face. You hold your ground even though you're terrified, you had never seen Price like this. “It’s in the job description, sir.” You rebutted between your teeth, adding the ‘sir’ to irk him more. It worked. “You were careless and clearly have no regard for your own life. You are a risk.” He spat. 

“I’d die for you, Captain. No if, ands, or buts, about it.” You said with a straight face. “ So, if that categorizes me as a ‘risk,’ so be it.” He opened his mouth to speak again, but quickly closed it, and you noticed. “Say it, Captain. You never have been one to hold his words back.” You pushed him, feeding on his anger. 

But all that anger seemed to be disintegrating. One moment it was there, and the next it was gone. Like your words flipped a switch inside him. He had this look on his face, like he was truly debating on his next words. “Say. It.” You demanded, necking craning upwards to look him in the eyes. His eyes fell closed, and a defeated huff passed his lips. 

“Having your blood on my hands is something I can’t handle…” His voice was hushed, and now his eyes refused to meet yours. That was the last thing you expected him to say. He has always kind of coddled you, he was very protective. You always thought maybe it was because you were the newest member of the Task Force, but now you’re thinking it’s for another reason. 

“W-What do you mean?” You asked, your mind went blank. All that anger was now mixed with a good dose of confusion. He didn’t speak, just ran his fingers through his hair, still avoiding eye contact. “Captain, look at me.” You uttered softly, and he didn’t listen. You’re not sure what overtook you in the moment, but your shaky hand reached towards his face.

“Please.” You begged, gripping his chin and forcing him to face you. When he didn’t pull away, you brought his face closer, your noses only inches apart. His eyes did finally flutter open, and you were greeted with a stoic, immersive shade of blue, you couldn’t look away. 

“Captain, I–” He didn’t let you finish your thought, cutting you off by leaning in closer, pressing his lips against yours. They were soft, softer than you ever imagined. Especially compared to the coarse hair of his mustache and beard against your face. You even picked up on the taste of smoke, he had smoked one of his cigars recently. 

All you could focus on at that moment was him. The way he placed your hands against his chest, you could feel his heartbeat through the soft fabric of his t-shirt. It was racing, ramming against the inside of his chest.

How his rough, calloused hands cupped the sides of your face, further melding your lips together. The way he handled you said a lot. He kissed you like he was in distress, barely giving you time to breathe between the last and next kiss, not that you were doing much breathing anyways. He made your body feel like jelly, your knees barely able to carry your body weight, so you gripped his t-shirt, tight, trying to steady yourself. 

When he finally pulled away, he kept his forehead against yours. There was no talking, just heavy pants coming from the both of you. Did that really just happen? Was this a joke? You wanted to pinch yourself, wake yourself up from this dream. That’s when he spoke, breaking the silence, “‘m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.” He apologized, trying to create more distance between the two of you. 

Luckily, you still had a hold of his shirt, stopping him. “Respectfully, Captain, shut up.” You chuckled, which earned a small smile from him as well. “Is this why you avoided me for two and a half months?” You asked, snaking your arms around his neck. “If you think I’ve only had these feelings for you for two and a half months, you're more delusional than I thought, Sergeant.” He chuckled this time, placing his hands on your hips.

“So, the real question is, am I still on desk duty?”

[shhh-no-ones-home]

future friends 1/2

james 'logan' howlett

+++++++++

part two

shes not edited so sorry in advance lol

im mad i cant write whump for this man so have some angst instead. because if we cant help heal outside wounds maybe we can help heal inside wounds

song: i lie to me by as it is

+++++++++

i sat across from rogue as we ate our lunch, quietly munching to myself. neither of us had spoken yet but she knew i always needed a minute when getting together with someone. it was the nature of my powers. i could see everyone's past just from being near them and though hers wasnt as hard to watch as some others she understood it was exhausting. she made that mistake once, touching me to experience it for just a moment. she ended up crying hysterically and i felt so bad because i couldnt even hug her to console her.

"Hey have you gotten a chance to talk to Logan yet?"

I raised a brow as I looked over at her, her pulling me out of my thoughts.

"You know the professor told me not to."

She nodded a few times, popping a grape into her mouth.

"And why are we still listening?"

She questioned and I laughed, wiping my mouth on my napkin.

"He said that I need to keep my distance until he finds his place here. You know we aren't supposed to use our powers on each other."

She looked at me with a stupid look on her face.

"Is it really using your power on him if you can't help it?"

I shrugged my shoulders.

"I've already read him. Every time he gets close actually. Every class I have with him. His life flashes before my eyes and I have to pretend I don't know everything about him."

She frowned and ate another grape.

"Logan deserves to know about his past. And you're the only one that can give that to him now that jean and the professor are dead."

I sighed and looked down at my half eaten sandwich. all i would have to do is touch him, then i could show him too.

"I guess I'll talk to storm about it. See if she has anything to say. She's the dean now after all."

she sent me another disapproving look before bobby came in and sat with us. i frowned, reading him quickly, before going back to my sandwich.

°°°°°°°°°

I knocked slowly on her office door, the wood creaking slowly. I could hear storm talking quietly to someone and suddenly my mind was flooded with his life again. His childhood, scraping his knee falling off his bike and it healing slowly. He freaked out but got up and kept riding. He never told his parents. Then his wife came into view, their wedding, her death. Then came him volunteering for strikers project. I could feel the ache in my chest as I felt all his pain. The cold rushing through my veins as he streaked butt naked through the Canadian wilderness trying to escape.

"Come in."

Shook me of my thoughts and I pushed the door open, seeing ororo and Logan talking. He was sat against her desk, legs crossed and cigar in his mouth. I panned the room to her standing in front of the TV, remote in hand. I could hear the electricity like she had just turned it off.

"Y/n, what a pleasant surprise."

I swallowed hard and looked from her to him. He had his brows drawn and I could tell he was trying to place me. Even in the two classes I had with him I was easy to ignore. I kept quiet. Answered questions when prompted. But ultimately stayed out of sight.

"storm I was wondering if I could ask you something but it's a private matter so I might come back."

I tried to suppress her time line, blinking away the hot African sun of her childhood.

"No need. I was just going."

Logan said sternly, pushing himself off the desk.

"We'll talk about this later."

She directed at him and he gave a tight lip smile, closing the door behind him. She looked back at me, placing the TV remote on the end table to her left.

"I have a feeling I know what this is about."

I cleared my throat and took a deep breath.

"I don't want to disobey professor Xavier -"

She held her hand up.

"You can't tell him."

I watched her, defeated as she paced to the desk.

"He deserves to know. Something. Anything. That he was married, he volunteered for experiment x, anything from his childhood."

She shook her head as she sat down.

"You know why that's a bad idea. We've already been over this after the fight at alkali lake."

I sighed and slumped down into the chair across from her.

"His time line is so intense storm. I can ignore most people's but they aren't as long or traumatizing as his. He's two, three, times as old as everyone here. Except myself."

A sad expression fell over her face as she folded her hands on the desk.

"He knows what happened with striker. We need to leave it at that. Until he finds something else out naturally."

I clenched my jaw and stood up.

"I can't keep hiding the truth from him ororo. And eventually he'll realize that I don't age either which will raise questions about my mutation. Then what am I supposed to say?"

She inhaled deeply.

"Y/n you are older than even the professor. You are the one that denied the position to teach-"

"Because I look like any other student!"

I interjected and she looked at me sternly.

"But if you are going to act like a child then you are going to be treated like one."

I scoffed and headed for the door.

"If the position reopens let me know. Teachers seem to be dropping like flies around here."

I pushed the door open harshly, it slamming behind me as I walked out of the office. There was a part of me that understands but I can't believe she is against me on this. He has found his place here. And I can't keep up with this. It's so much harder to keep people's time lines out of my head when they don't know I know.

Like rogue. I told her shortly after I met her. Even though it was after she took the "cure" from the Worthington corporation. She introduced herself in the same span it took me to see her time line. Bobby was there to help explain my powers to her but I haven't had to watch her find her powers since then. Same with him. And everyone else I've talked to on this campus. just small pieces of their childhood or finding their significant other.

but logan wasn't like everyone else. he was complicated. and so was i. but now, also, i was mad. i walked quickly down the hall, passed the dining room and kitchen to the elevator. if i couldnt get his frustrations out of my brain by telling him then i might as well work them out. i hit the down button and tapped my foot as i waited. when the door opened i strode down the hall to the danger-room.

i walked in slowly, the lights turning on and the control panel popping open. i quickly selected a series of test and waited for the room to start changing. i watched as sky scrapers appeared in the distance, small shops coming into view as well. then cars and people. then i saw a plane ahead, watching in shock as it crashed down in front of me. then all these creatures started climbing off of it, pieces of the plan in their unsightly jaws as it burned under them.

i moved quickly, running forward and dodging the creatures as they came at me hissing through bloody teeth. i pulled on the torn metal, making and opening and helping some civilians out of the plane as it burned. i looked up, seeing one of the creatures charging back at me. i grabbed a piece off the top of the plane and swung myself towards it kicking it square in the face and knocking back down to the ground.

i checked to make sure that the people on the ground were helping the others out of the burning plane before turning to fight another creature as it came at me. i struck it, pushing it away from me before lunging at another one. when the rest finally realized i was there they came in waves, attacking me. i fought back as hard as i could and for once thats all i had to focus on. then one of them knocked me down. as i tried to get up another lunged on top of me, pinning me down to the roof of the plane. i grunted and and tried to keep it away from me, its teeth gnashing and slobbery in my face.

then from out of nowhere i heard a yell and the sound of metal. i looked over to see logan shoving his long claws into the side of the creature. i watched him, his past flooding through my brain as he attacked the others as they came at us. i breathed deeply, stumbling to my feet and putting my back to his. we fought together until they were all gone, going to get the few stragglers out of the plane that hadnt made it out yet.

then he moved to help me down, taking my hand in his and pausing as i hit the ground. my eyes went wide as a tear slid down his cheek. shit. i had transferred his memories without even meaning to. all i had to do was touch him. usually i had my gloves on when we went in the danger-room but i didnt put my suit on first.

"i had a wife."

he said quietly, side eying me. i held my breath, holding onto his hand still as the simulation dissipated around us.

"i had a brother."

he laughed, really looking at me now. i took my hand out of his and held them both together in front of me.

"im sorry logan, this isnt how i wanted you to find out."

he drew his brows.

"have you known this whole time?"

i could feel tears stinging as i nodded.

"thats my curse to hold."

he shook his head, looking angry before walking off.

"logan wait!"

i called after him and he held his hand up.

"kid. just dont."

[bellaxgiornata]

Safe Haven [Chapter Thirteen]

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Fem!Reader Word Count: 4.5k [Series Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains violence, drug use, domestic abuse, smut, hurt/comfort, angst, mutual pining, friends to lovers

a/n: You get a Mikey POV at the beginning of this chapter! And a bit of fluff at the end finally to make up for the previous chapters ending! I admittedly edited this fast so I hope I did not miss any grievous errors. I just wanted to get the next chapter posted already. I hope you enjoy and feedback is always appreciated!

Tag list: @loveroftoomanyfandoms @farfromstrange @rotscinema @1988-fiend @shouldbestudying41 @shiorimakibawrites @norestfortheshelbywicked @mattmurdocksstarlight @acharliecoxedfan @roseallisonparker @yarrystyleeza @dramaholic18 @mattkinsella @ms-murdockswift @theetherealbloom @24hflower @mattmurdocksscars @schneeflocky @the-nursery @lionalsowrites

Michael had experienced many situations in his life where he'd been nervous before–times when he’d been on edge. Oftentimes he felt like that before clipping someone and hoping the job went off without incident. And considering the things he’d done over the years, he really shouldn’t have been as nervous as he was right now. But yet here he was, still somehow finding himself anxious as he walked up the drive next door, making his way towards his neighbor's house and hoping for a chance to speak with you. 

He thought the date yesterday morning had gone well–you'd even told him you'd enjoyed it. Granted he supposed that was before he thought he was being followed home after the coffee you'd both gotten and he had pulled you down a side street hoping to protect you from bullets meant only for him. And then Amanda had interrupted both of you with a situation that honestly could have waited until later that day instead of her ruining Michael’s date with you. He wished she had showed up after he'd finished spending his morning tangled in his sheets with you. He hadn't anticipated you being quite that bold on a first date, and it certainly hadn't been his intention that morning to take you back to his place for sex after the coffees, but he also couldn't deny that he'd wanted to, either. Over the past few days he’d found himself often wondering what pretty sounds you would make when he finally got you in his bed and his face buried between your thighs. He’d admittedly often found himself growing hard at those thoughts and in need of relief, conjuring up scenarios while he was in the shower. So Michael had been incredibly irritated when Amanda had popped by and interfered. 

But then you'd completely flipped on him. He knew Amanda’s timing with family shit had been awful, and he knew that her diminishing what was going on between you both to just sex was out of line, but he'd figured you knew what she was saying was all bullshit. He thought he'd made it clear multiple times already that he liked you; hell, he'd told you as much a few nights ago when he'd stayed with you after your accident. He'd gone off on Birdy when she'd threatened you and he thought he'd made it clear he'd wanted you to stay here after that. That he would help protect you and your sister from your ex.

So why had Amanda’s words hurt you so badly? What had he been missing? Because to him, she had clearly been spouting bullshit, so what had he missed?

Michael had finally gotten your phone number at the beginning of the date yesterday, too, and while you'd told him not to call, he certainly had. Quite a few times now, actually. Though you'd never answered. After the fourth time he'd come to expect that, but he'd still tried anyway. 

When he'd gone to bed last night, he'd noticed the curtains on your bedroom window had already been drawn closed. And when he'd woken this morning, they'd still been like that. You were shutting him out and it had hurt him more than he'd thought it would to feel like he was losing something he'd never truly had. 

So he'd showered and dressed this morning before he found himself outside and heading next door. He figured he might have more luck if he tried to talk to you in person, desperately hoping you'd give him a chance and explain what he'd done so wrong. To find some way to apologize to you. But as he came to a stop in front of the door, he felt his palms beginning to sweat from nerves; he was afraid he'd say the wrong thing and make everything even worse. He was afraid you'd still refuse to speak to him. He was afraid you might be planning to leave again.

For some reason the thought of losing you before he could figure out what that pull he had to you was all about terrified Michael. Something about you had felt different to him from the very beginning, and it wasn't because you’d been hiding secrets from him. You were unlike anyone he'd ever encountered before–certainly different from the women he'd been with. It was clear on your face that you'd known pain in your life, that you'd had to do things to survive that maybe you hadn't wanted to do. That you were lonely and misunderstood. And Michael could certainly relate to that. 

With a heavy sigh he reached out, knocking three times against the door. He tucked his hands into his jacket pockets as he waited, hoping you'd be the one to answer. But a few moments later, when the door swung open, it was your sister who was standing there scrutinizing him. Somehow that had only made him more nervous.

"Hello Michael," she greeted, kicking a hip out and blocking the doorframe as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Wondered when you'd be showing up."

He sent Megan a tense smile, his hands curling into fists in his pockets. "Is Grace around?" he asked. "I–I was hopin' to speak with her."

"Figured as much," Megan replied, her small frame still commanding the entryway. "But no, she's not here."

Michael frowned at her response, his focus dropping to his feet. Was she lying because you didn’t want to talk to him, or was she telling him the truth? Were you really not here?

"You fucked up, you know that right?" Megan told him.

Michael’s eyes flew back up towards Megan's, hopeful that maybe she could shed some light on what had happened. If he knew then maybe he could fix things with you.

"I’ve been tryin’ to figure out what I did wrong," he replied earnestly. "Been tryin' to talk to your sister but she's not answerin' her phone."

Megan's eyes narrowed back at him, a frown pulling at her mouth. "What do you mean you’re trying to figure out what you did wrong?" she asked slowly.

"I mean I don’t exactly know how I fucked up," he answered, shaking his head. "’Sides the way things ended on our walk back, I thought things were goin’ alrigh’. And I know Amanda interrupted things and was rude but–"

"Your sister-in-law called my sister a whore," Megan cut in sharply. "And you said nothing to defend Grace to her."

Michael’s jaw dropped, confusion drawing itself across his features. He’d never heard Amanda call you a whore, he’d have been raging and fuming if he’d heard those words come out of her mouth. And he sure as shit wouldn’t have sat back and let her speak to you like that. 

"What?” Michael gasped. “I never heard Amanda say that. I swear to ya she’d have regretted it the moment she’d said that.”

"Did she say my sister was a quick fuck for you?" Megan asked flatly, her brows raising. "Implied she was just there for sex? That all you wanted from her was sex?"

Michael’s dark brows knitted together on his forehead, deep creases forming as he tried to make sense of what Megan was saying. So it had been what Amanda had said after all that had upset you.

“I–yes, she did, but it was bullshit,” Michael explained quickly. “I thought Grace knew that. Amanda, she hasn’ been alrigh’ after what happened to her son, I wasn’t lookin’ to further upset her. But I thought Grace knew she meant more to me than that.” He took a step closer to Megan, his eyes pleading. “Ya have to believe me, I didn’t mean to upset her. I care ‘bout Grace. I know I don’t know her well, but I care for her.”

The stern look on Megan’s face faltered briefly, but only for a second. “You had something with Amanda though, didn’t you?” she asked. “Grace told me you did. She thinks she’s just a distraction for you and that’s why you didn’t straighten Amanda out. You hurt her.” Her eyes narrowed back at Michael as she continued. “And I did warn you about hurting her.”

Michael’s heart sank in his chest. He hadn’t known her words had affected you so much. Hadn’t known that you’d been so bothered by the fact that he’d been with Amanda in the past. It had been so long ago now, a stupid affair that he shouldn’t have had with his brother’s wife. And she’d chosen Jimmy at the time, after all. That wasn’t what Michael wanted, to be someone’s second choice. To be less than. He hadn’t felt that way when he was with Allison, which was why he’d ultimately married her. Though he certainly hadn’t felt whatever he’d been feeling for you when he’d been with either of them, either. 

“I want to make it right,” he assured Megan. “I just need her to talk to me. So I can explain myself. Fix things.”

“She’s too pissed at you to talk,” Megan informed him.

Michael’s shoulders dropped, his expression falling with them. Did that mean things were just over before they’d even had a chance to begin then? He’d already ruined things with you?

Megan’s arms uncrossed from her chest as she exhaled a loud sigh, the noise drawing Michael’s attention. Her expression had softened visibly to something less hostile and Michael eyed her curiously.

“You like my sister?” Megan asked him. 

“Yes,” he answered instantly.

“And you’re not just fucking around with her?” she questioned next.

Michael shook his head swiftly. “No, ‘m’not,” he replied. 

For a long while Megan stood there in silence, studying Michael closely, her eyes scanning his face. After a moment she nodded.

“I’ll help you because I like you and I think you’re genuine,” she said. “So don’t fuck this up. Are you going to be home this evening? Say…eight-ish?”

“I can be, yeah,” he said.

“I’ll lure her out to the back garden a little before then,” Megan told him. “For a sister chat. Keep an eye out–in a not creepy and noticeable way, too. I don’t need her knowing I helped you out here.”

“You would–would do that for me?” Michael asked.

Megan pushed off the doorframe, her stance no longer meant to intimidate. “I want to believe you’re a good guy and you have good intentions with my sister,” she answered. “So I’ll help you. This time.” She raised a finger, pointing it threateningly at Michael’s chest as her expression darkened. “But so help me if you hurt her, lead her on and leave her for your brother’s wife or something, I’ll fucking hurt you. I don’t care what your last name is. Are we clear?”

The corner of Michael’s lips twitched upwards into a small smile. He nodded, his hands finally uncurling in his jacket pockets. 

“Yeah,” he said softly. “I hear ya, and I don’t intend to hurt her.”

Huddled together with your sister on the bench outside, you drew the blanket tighter around your shoulders as a chill ran down your spine. It was colder out now that the sun had finally set, which wasn't saying much because it always seemed to be cold in Dublin. You felt like you'd been living in layers since you moved here.

"How'd writing go at that new coffee shop you visited?" Megan asked from beside you.

"It was good," you answered. "Nothing interesting happened. Just finished a chapter and drank some coffee. Dealt with social media shit for Angela." 

You glanced at Megan sitting beside you, her head resting against the backrest of the wicker bench. Her focus was on the thick clouds in the sky above that threatened rain.

"How was your day off from the hospital?" you asked her. 

Megan shrugged a shoulder. "I ran some errands. Went to my yoga class. Nothing too eventful." Her eyes shifted towards you. "Any sign of Victor today? Or was it a good day on that front, too?"

"Thankfully nothing popping up from him," you answered. "Nothing since that weird email I didn't open the other day, at least." You sighed, eyes dropping down to your lap as your fingers nervously fidgeted with the blanket. "It almost makes me more nervous when I go a bit without seeing signs of him lately. Like I feel like he knows I'm here and is just…watching me or something."

Megan's head rose from its place against the bench, her focus fully on you. Her left hand landed on your leg beside hers under the blanket you both were sharing. 

"You don't think he knows though, do you?" she asked. "That you're here? You haven't even been here that long yet."

"I don't know," you muttered. "I don't think so but I just…I have this feeling, you know? Like he's getting closer. It makes my skin crawl."

"Let's not talk about it then," Megan said. "Topic change."

"To what?" you asked, still nervously fidgeting with the blanket in your hands.

"I don't know," Megan said. "Anything. Anyone catch your eye at the coffee shop?"

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. Hands balling the blanket in them, your attention turned up towards the sky. 

"I'm not here to date," you reminded her. "You know that."

"You need to live your life, Grace," she said, bumping your shoulder with hers. "You don't want to wake up some day years from now feeling like all you've done is hide."

You opened your mouth, entirely prepared to protest that you were living your life, but the sound of the sliding door opening on the back of Michael’s house stopped you. Gaze slowly making its way over, you saw him closing the door behind himself. Even in the dark you could see his eyes were clearly focused on you.

Stiffening on the bench, you saw him making his way straight towards you and Megan. You could feel your heart nervously pounding in your chest with each of his approaching steps. You didn't want to see him. To talk to him. You knew he'd been calling you since yesterday morning but you couldn't bring yourself to answer. It had hurt you that he'd let Amanda say those things about you, and it had hurt you just as much to realize it was most likely because he still wanted her.

"G'evenin' Megan," he greeted as he neared the fence, his attention briefly switching to your sister before it returned to you. "Grace," he said, tone a bit softer. 

"Michael," Megan greeted back. "Come out here to freeze your ass off, too?"

He chuckled, shaking his head. Coming to a stop beside the fence, he placed his hands along the stone and leaned forward over it. He looked nervous as he focused on you. 

"Was actually hopin' I could talk to ya, Grace," he said.

Beside you, Megan started pulling the blanket off from around herself. You caught her eye, shooting her a pointed look that clearly asked her not to leave you alone with him. 

"Just talk to him," she urged. "If you want to yell at him afterwards no one is stopping you."

As Megan rose from the bench, you readjusted the blanket around yourself to keep warm. Your sister sent you a final, meaningful look before she made her way back towards the house. You heard the sliding door open and close, your eyes dropping down to your feet as you curled further in on yourself under the blanket. 

Silence soon fell between you and Michael after Megan’s exit. For a minute neither of you spoke, your heart still beating heavily in your chest. But you refused to be the one to break the silence first.

"I'm sorry," Michael hesitantly called out. "I didn't realize that what Amanda had said had hurt ya."

Your eyes narrowed, a flash of anger at the memory of yesterday morning hitting you. "You think it's not hurtful to be called a quick fuck?" you shot back, your eyes still refusing to meet his.

"I thought ya knew what she was sayin' wasn't true," he replied quickly. "Grace, if all ya were was a quick fuck I wouldn't be lettin' ya in when my–my son was killed," he said, voice full of emotion. "Makin' ya coffee in the mornin' after. Runnin' to your house with a gun when I hear screamin'."

Your gaze slowly rose up to Michael’s face as he continued on, his words coming out faster. You could feel your anger slowly easing the more he said. 

"I wouldn't have stayed with ya that night ya hurt yourself," he told you. "And told ya I liked ya in the mornin'. Asked ya out a second time feelin' like a dumb arse hopin' you'd change your mind and say yes to me. Actually give me a chance."

Your expression softened as Michael continued on, realizing he had a point. Though knowing that didn’t mean that he couldn't still have feelings for his brother’s wife.

“If ya were only a quick fuck, I wouldn’t have takin’ ya out for coffee,” he continued earnestly. “I honestly woulda been content to sit in that shop with ya all day listenin' to ya talk 'bout anythin' instead of goin’ home with ya after, Grace. I wasn't the one who suggested it, even if I’d be a lyin’ arse if I said I hadn’t thought ‘bout ya like that, because I have. I’m attracted to ya, I am, but–but that isn’t what I want from ya.”

“And what do you want?” you called out.

You saw the tension ease from his body at the sound of your voice. There was an expression on his face that looked a mix of sad but hopeful in the dim light from Megan’s house shining along him.

“I just want to get to know ya,” he answered. “That’s what I’ve been sayin’ all this time. I just want to get to know ya, Grace.”

Tightening the blanket around yourself further, you felt something flutter in your chest at his admission. “And what about Amanda?” you asked.

For a moment he looked like he was about to say something, but what he did instead surprised you. In a fluid and almost graceful movement, you watched as he pulled himself up and over the four foot stone fence. Your eyes widened in surprise as he landed with a soft thud on the pavement, but you didn’t have time to process what was going on because he was heading over towards you on the bench immediately after.

He sat down beside you slowly, as if he was uncertain that you’d let him. His eyes had never left your face the entire time, and the intensity you found in them had you almost holding your breath. Shifting on the bench, you turned towards him nervously. 

“There is nothin’ between Amanda and I,” he told you firmly. “There was in the past, yes, but I told ya before that it was a mistake havin’ an affair with my brother’s wife. And I meant it. I can’t speak for her, but I can tell ya now, I don’t want Amanda. I want you . I want to see what it is that keeps pullin’ me to ya.”

“But what she said–”

“I fucked up,” Michael admitted ardently. “I fucked up and I didn’t say anythin’ that mornin’ because I knew Amanda has had a difficult time grievin’ the loss of Jaime. She’s been strugglin’ with the aftermath of what she–she asked me to do, too. She’s been havin’ a hard time and I didn’t want to start somethin’. Didn't want to make things worse. And I figured ya knew better than to listen to the shit she was spewin’ because I’d thought I’d made it clear ya weren’t a quick fuck.” He sent you a sad smile. “Ya saw how upset I got with Birdy, and she’s the closest thing I’ve got to a mum, Grace. But she threatened ya, and it wasn’t right, so I told her off. Ya have to believe me that it wasn’t intentional when I hurt ya yesterday. I realize now that I fucked up.”

“You did,” you whispered. “That hurt to just stand there and hear your… ex talk about me like that while you just let it happen.”

Michael’s palm landed on your knee over the blanket, his hand firmly grasping it. “I swear to ya, she’ll never speak like that ‘bout ya or to ya again, Grace. I won’t let it happen,” he said with a firm shake of his head. "Ya have my word. Because ya aren't some distraction or a quick fuck. Ya mean more than that to me."

Biting your lip, you held his gaze. Your hands were holding tight to the soft blanket, resisting the urge to lean forward and kiss him after that long-winded an impassioned apology he'd given you. You'd never had a man before take responsibility for their actions and apologize like that. He was right though, he had done all of those things for you and more. Like shielding you from possible gunfire the other day. And he seemed pretty adamant about not having feelings for Amanda. 

"Can ya forgive me?" he whispered, his hand timidly leaving your knee and gingerly cupping your cheek. "Let me prove to ya I mean what I say?"

You nodded slowly in response. "Just please don't toy with me, Michael," you murmured.

He shook his head, his thumb stroking your cheek gently. "I would never," he promised. "I feel like shite for unintentionally hurting ya, pet. I never meant to, I swear."

Sending him a small, nervous smile, you opened your arms and in turn partially unwrapped yourself from the blanket. "Are you cold?" you asked. 

A little grin slipped onto his lips as he nodded, his hand returning to his side. "Freezin' my arse off, actually," he answered. 

You laughed lightly, scooting closer to him on the bench. "Here," you said, offering him some of the blanket.

For a moment the two of you sat flush beside each other, trying to figure out how to wrap the blanket around both you and Michael, but he was vastly broader than Megan. The blanket wasn't quite big enough to wrap around the pair of you. 

"I'll be fine without it, Grace," Michael finally said in defeat, beginning to unwrap the blanket from around himself. "Just use it yourself, pet. I don't want ya to get cold."

An idea struck you and your hand flew out to stop him. "Wait," you said.

Michael paused, shooting you a curious look. Ignoring the fluttering of nerves in your stomach at the way he was eyeing you and at what you were about to do, you wrapped your arms around Michael’s neck and pulled yourself up and into his lap. Micheal’s eyes grew wide in shock, his brows shooting up. You bit back a smile at the surprised look on his face, an amused huff of laughter slipping out of you. Michael’s hands instinctively flew around your waist and back, steadying you along his lap as you adjusted yourself. 

"Now it'll wrap around both of us," you said.

Taking the blanket from its place behind Michael, you shifted and began wrapping it around both of you. He momentarily released his hold on you to help, pulling the blanket higher up around your shoulders as he did. You grabbed the ends of it to hold it closed before leaning back into Michael’s chest when his arms encircled you again. Your head came to rest against his shoulder and you quickly felt yourself relaxing into him.

“I’d say this is much better,” you said.

“Mhmm,” Michael hummed out in approval, turning his head so he could look at you. “Y’know for bein’ so timid sometimes, you’re quite bold, Grace.”

“Well,” you began, a smile tugging at your lips as you shifted your head along his shoulder, looking back up at him, “I’m usually bold. I blame you for making me nervous sometimes.”

“Ya make me nervous, too,” Michael admitted softly. “Was terrified of talkin’ to ya after what happened yesterday. Afraid I’d completely fucked everythin’ up. Afraid I’d…lost ya already.”

Adjusting your hold on the blanket, maneuvering both ends to your right hand, you slipped your left hand up his neck to gently cradle the side of his face. Silently you held his eyes for a moment, your fingers lightly running along his beard as you stroked his cheek.

“You didn’t lose me, Michael,” you whispered. “I’m still here.”

A broad smile gradually spread across his mouth as he gazed down at you, the warmth of it finally eliminating the sadness that seemed to have been lingering on his face and in his eyes since he’d stepped out of his house this evening. You couldn’t resist the smile that spread on your own face at the sight of it. Michael was a handsome man, there was no doubt about it, but when he smiled like that it left you speechless.

“How ‘bout I cook ya dinner sometime soon?” he asked. “We can figure out a time later this week and I can make things up to ya over some food.”

Your brows rose onto your forehead. “You cook?” you asked.

He chuckled lightly, his smile turning a little sheepish. “A bit, yeah. A few things Birdy taught me, at least. Though I’ll admit, it’s been a bit since I’ve done much cookin’. But if you’re up for it, I’d like to.”

A warm sensation stirred in your chest as you continued to gaze up at him. No one had cooked for you before, especially not Victor. This was new.

“I’d like that,” you whispered.

“Can I consider it our second date?” he murmured, lowering his forehead to yours.

Leaning upwards just a hair, you brushed your lips against his. You felt his mouth immediately respond to the light touch, his lips placing a soft kiss to yours.

“Yes,” you whispered.

Michael’s lips curled into a smile against your own for a moment, and you felt yourself melting into him and his warmth from your place along his lap. You felt safe wrapped in his embrace, his arms firmly holding you to him. With the hand still resting on his cheek, you drew him that last bit of the way towards you, your mouth gently connecting to his in another kiss. Micheal eagerly responded, his arms somehow managing to squeeze you a bit tighter to his solid chest. 

This kiss wasn’t like the ones the two of you had shared yesterday morning though. It wasn’t desperate and hungry, but rather unhurried and relaxed. Both of your mouths connecting over and over as if neither of you were in a rush, just taking your time enjoying the moment. It wasn’t long before you forgot all about the chill of the evening, your arms both snaking around Michael’s neck as you further pressed yourself to him, reveling in the taste of him on your tongue as the blanket gradually fell from the pair of you.

[zuffer-weird-girl]

@honeybee246axolotl

"How long?" Your husband muttered, eyes transfixed on your belly that was growing but still not the size for someone to notice right away you were pregnant.

"The doctor said it was about 2 months. But the gender we will only discover when I reach around 18 or 21 weeks."

"Five months then." He muttered in a matter of a fact tone as you snorted.

"Pops seems excited." You giggled while your husband grimaced at the memory of the elder discovering you were pregnant.

Is not that it was a bad thing, is just that he knew how much that old man was going to be breathing down on his neck when this kid os born. Asides from Eri, pops will consider his son or daughter their grandkids too. And due to the leader's daughter not allowing Pops to have contact with Eri, it resulted that practically his kid is going to be his first real experience to have a grandchild.

So that made his fear come to the air. Pops wouldn't shut up about it. Meaning that as soon as the precepts, mimic and Chrono got to know... it was basically a green card for teasing... for those who had the courage to at least.

"Too excited even..." he grimaced again as you couldn't help but smile.

"Oh come on, don't be grouchy." You bumped your shoulder with him as you guys walked back home "I'm sure he will respect your pleadings to not tell the others or other yakuza for a while."

"I doubt it. He never listens to me." He answered bitterly as the gage of the yakuza house opened. As soon as Chisaki made you enter first you were met with Mimic, in his human form, and Chrono looking at you with wide eyes.

Chisaki sensed immediately as he got to your side with a poker face as usual.

"Chrono, Mimic. Spit it out why are you looking at us like that." Although he was pretty sure he had a feeling what was it.

"Uh..." chrono stuttered while in complete shock as Mimic opened his mouth and closed at least three times.

You and your husband looked at each other for a bit before looking at the entrance of the house to spot Pops with a not so sorry expression.

"Oh for crying out-" Kai was about to growl until Mimic decided to open his mouth.

"YoU KnOckEd Up YoUR ChICk OvErHaUL?!"

Safe to say mimic was overhauled the exact same moment right there in the yard.

.

.

"You couldn't just keep your mouth shut could you old man?" Kai growled at the smirking elder as you sighed at the attitude of your husband.

"You want me to keep a secret that will eventually come out rather you like it or not? Just yank over the bandage for once." The elder chuckled before crossing his arms "Besides, they have to know. Your son or daughter will be on the line of the Hassaikai after all."

"He has a point dear." You pointed out as Chisaki glared at you "I mean, what would be the excuse when I start to get bigger?"

"That's your business and no one has the right to speak to you about it." He growled before standing up and taking your hand in his "We will be out."

"What? Can't I at least know how the doctor went?" The elder chuckled as Chisaki growled out a "no".

"I will tell you later." You mouthed to Pops as he smiled in gratitude to you.

"Congratulations Master." You two ended up running into Tengai, Nemoto and Rappa on he way "I'm sure this child will only bring breat fortune to you and your wife's life." Nemoto spoke while you smiled at the man as Tengai bowed his head at you.

"You will do as a great mother for master Overhaul's kid miss (L/n). I'm praying this kid will be the healthiest."

Chisaki cringed internally at the thought of his kid having a illness, settling an certain type of new anxiety forming inside his chest even though outside he showed nothing but disinterest.

"Hope this parasite don't get Overjerk's genes or else you will be fucked." Rappa mumbled out as nemoto tengai and you widened your eyes.

Chisaki merely but sighed before taking off his gloves and green jacket before glaring at the buff.

"Two."

.

.

"I think you're getting too worked up for this honey..." You mumbled as he left the shower with an arched eyebrow "You overhauled just today Mimic, Rappa, Setsuno for asking if the kid was really yours and Deidoro for commenting how fat I was gonna get."

His eyes darkened at the mention of the last one.

"That's just straight up disrespect towards my wife. Apologies for trying to defend your honor." He groaned, sounding more like a child being scolded, as he went to change himself as you sighed with a chuckle.

"Kai he was drunk."

"That's not a excuse." He said over his shoulder as finally got something to cover his manhood before feeling your hands from behind him, for a moment his body responded with being rigid hut as soon as your fingers started to massage his shoulder he let himself relax with a sigh.

"Don't stress over this too much love. Now that the cat's out of the bag we can be a little bit relieved.. is not good to keep secrets all of the time, it can be very stressful." You mumbled before your lips kissed the crook of his neck gently, sending a shiver down his spine.

At your words his mind immediately went back to Eri... how he never allowed himself to tell you what he dared to do with that girl. He had given up due to you mostly but... he did felt a huge stress fill his mind whenever he reminds of that. And he refused still to talk with you about that.

"Indeed." He sighed, noticing how you still hadn't let go of his nude form "Are you going to let me change or just cling to me all day?"

"I like the latter one better." You whispered in his pierced ear as he shivered once again at your touch sliding down from his chest to near his V line.

"You're such a menace." He groaned, mentally slapping himself for getting excited over just a couple of touches and kisses from you.

"But you like me that way..." You whispered seductively before standing right in his front "After all you did 'knock me up'." You smirked at his pale face getting red as he clicked his tongue.

"Besides, I think both of us need a bit of relaxation after the stress of your commurates knowing you will be a father so-"

"Don't mention then while I'm literally about to ruin you." He muttered in anger before scopping you and throwing you on the bed "Enjoy this while you can because when this pest gets bigger we're not doing this." He spoke between heated kisses.

"You do know you won't poke the baby with your dick right?" You giggled as he stopped kissing you to glare right into your eyes above you.

"Why are you the mother of my kid again?"

"Because you fell for me. Deal with it." You poke your tongue out as he growled before going to kiss before a knock on the door interrupted you two.

Chisaki immediately sighed in annoyance while going to grab clothes to cover himself up and when he answered it he was pretty much pissed off at seeing Pops and Chrono standing there.

"So, I was thinking about Kurono being the godfather-"

"GET OUT!"

[hbyrde36]

Life is a Game (and True Love is a Trophy)

Chapter 3

Ch 1 Ch 2 ao3 link

*Eddie - 1986*

Eddie wasn’t dumb enough to break into a house in Hawkin’s wealthiest neighborhood in broad daylight, so he came back later that night once it was fully dark. Steve’s house backed up to the woods, so he parked a few streets over, where his beat up van would be a little less conspicuous, and snuck through tree-lined backyards until he reached the Harrington place.

He came alone. The kids would be mad when he told them about this, if he ever told them about this, but he wouldn't risk any of them being involved if he somehow got caught. 

Eddie tried the back door first, thinking it might be kept unlocked for showings. No such luck. Looking at the flimsy lock, he thought about it for a moment because honestly, sliding glass doors are super easy to break into, but he decided it would be best not to leave any evidence that someone had been here.

Windows were next, and after trying several along the back and side of the house, he finally found one that was unlocked. Jackpot. It was tiny, and looked like it led into a laundry room. He took off his leather jacket and battle vest, knowing it would be easier to squeeze through without the extra bulk. He tossed them both behind a nearby bush and hauled himself up through the small opening.

Eddie’s not sure he’d be able to accurately describe just how creepy it was walking around Steve Harrington's empty house, if anyone ever asked. It was dead silent, dark, and the little remaining furniture was covered in white sheets. It made him jumpy, he kept expecting something to pop out at him, like a bad horror movie. 

It only got worse as he explored. 

There was nothing to see, as far as he could tell, on the first floor. Not that Eddie knew what he was looking for, exactly. He figured he’d know it when he saw it. Shivering slightly, he headed up to the second floor, where all the bedrooms were likely to be. 

An odd sense of deja vu overcame Eddie for a moment as he looked down the hallway. He shook it off, knowing it was just him scaring himself. The first two doors led to an empty bedroom and bathroom, respectively. There wasn’t so much as a toothbrush left behind in the bathroom and every surface was spotless. The third one he tried is where things got…strange.

He opened the door quickly, expecting to find another empty room and move on. Instead, he found the fully furnished bedroom of a teenage boy. Eddie’s jaw dropped. The bed was made up with a dark blue comforter, and nestled between the two thick pillows was a small well-loved brown teddy bear. It looked like one of those generic stuffed toys you might pick up at the last minute in a hospital gift shop. 

A low dresser sat against the wall opposite the bed, along with a bookshelf that held more model cars than novels. There was a wooden desk and swivel chair, and hanging from the back of it was Steve’s old letterman jacket. Eddie turned slowly around the room, taking it all in. Apart from it being a little too neat for your average 18-year-old, and the frankly atrocious wallpaper, it’s exactly what Eddie imagined Steve's space to look like. 

If he didn’t know better, and if the rest of the house wasn’t deserted, he’d think Steve had just stepped out for the day, that he might be back any minute. Eddie wondered why the boy’s things had been left like this, and what would happen to it all when the house sold. Out of morbid curiosity he checked the drawers and closet. Both were full of familiar looking jeans, sweaters, and polo shirts. Jesus, the whole room was a goddamn time capsule. He wasn’t sure if any of this amounted to a clue or anything, but it was definitely the kind of weird shit he was looking for.

Reluctantly, he left the room to explore the rest of the floor. There were two more doors to try. One led to the master suite, as bare as the rest of the house, the last opened up to a set of attic steps. Eddie wasn’t a big fan of attics, they tended to have bats, another thing he wasn't a big fan of, contrary to what his tattoo might imply.

It was dark on the stairs, and he cursed himself for not bringing a flashlight. It seemed like a reasonable decision at the time, he hadn’t wanted to risk someone seeing his light through a window and calling the cops, but it was almost pitch black up there. 

It wasn’t as empty as the rest of the place, he could make out the shape of several boxes stacked in one corner and a small bed frame or cot along another wall. He tried to walk around a little, but quickly ran into a beam and almost knocked himself out. 

Deciding it was too hazardous, and since he couldn’t see anything anyway, Eddie turned back towards the way out. He tripped over something and bent to pick it up. It felt like a book of some kind. He was curious but couldn't see shit, so he tucked it under his arm and went back down the steps. He'd get a better look at it later, in the light. 

It was definitely time to go, he’d already been in the house for much longer than he planned to be, but as he passed Steve's door again, Eddie felt compelled to take one more look. As soon as he stepped inside, he saw headlights turning into the Harrington’s driveway. Shit.

Eddie ducked down. It was unlikely that whoever it was would notice him in a second story window, but better safe than sorry. He had to get out of there in case whoever it was decided to come inside. Who on earth would be viewing a house this late at night? No, it had to be something else. 

As Eddie crouch-walked out of the room, he couldn’t keep his eyes off Steve's jacket. It was stupid, impulsive, and someone would almost certainly notice its absence, but he couldn’t stop himself from grabbing the thing and taking it with him.

He hid behind a half wall in the living room until he heard the car and its mystery driver pull away. Not feeling like climbing through a window again that night, Eddie left through the back, though he was unable to lock it from the outside. He’d already broken all the rules, so what was one mysteriously unlocked door.

Walking around to the side of the house, he went straight to the bush where he had stashed his jacket and vest, but they were gone. Motherfucker, he was so screwed! Eddie might not have been caught red handed, but he knew that his vest stood out, it was personal. If whoever found it was curious enough, they could easily find out who it belonged to. He didn’t waste anymore time looking, if he stayed here it’d only up his chances of getting snagged. He took off through the trees and sighed in relief when he finally reached his van. 

It was after midnight when Eddie got back to the trailer. Wayne was working so at least he didn’t have to explain where he’d been. He set the two items he’d stolen down on the bed to look them over, going for the book first. It was an old Jcpenney Christmas catalog dated December 1983. Tucked in between its pages was a purple marker with some kind of pink fuzzy puff ball thing on the end of it. Too juvenile to belong to Steve’s mom, and he was sure the guy hadn’t had any siblings. Maybe a younger female cousin had left it behind? He supposed it could be Steve’s, he wasn’t one to judge, but he’d be surprised. Eddie flipped through the pages, taking note of the items that had been marked. A lot of girl’s clothes, some pretty pillows and blankets, more stuff for a bedroom, but also nail polish and a friendship bracelet kit.

It was curious. He didn’t know what to make of it, and although it probably had nothing to do with Steve's case, he still tucked it safely away in his nightstand drawer when he was done looking through it. Just in case.

He picked the jacket up next and held it up to his face, breathing in deeply through his nose. It was faint, but he could smell Steve's cologne on it. He didn’t know what it was called, only that Steve had been wearing the same fragrance since junior high. Eddie would recognize it anywhere. Under that was the faint odor of cigarettes, and sure enough, when he dug into the pockets there was an old pack with two very dried out cigs left inside. 

Damn Harrington, I didn't know you smoked, Eddie thought. Little bit of bad boy in you after all, wasn’t there? 

He checked the other pocket and pulled out a single polaroid photo. Eddie’s breath caught in his throat as he looked down at the face he hadn’t seen in over two years. 

Steve was pulling a goofy grin, no doubt for the amusement of the little girl who joined him in the photo. She smiled wide, eyes practically shining with happiness. She had dimples, and very little hair. Eddie didn't recognize her, but something about the girl was familiar, like he'd seen those eyes before. He wondered if she was the person the puffy pen belonged to, and who she was to Steve. 

He took out his wallet and stuffed the photo inside for safe keeping. The jacket, he folded carefully and tucked under a stack of junk in his closet to keep it hidden. 

-

Eddie slept in late the next morning. On top of going to bed well past one in the morning, following his criminal escapades, he’d spent the whole night running from one weird dream to another. All of them starring Steve and the mystery kid from the photo. It’d been a while since he dreamed of Steve, though it used to be quite a common occurrence. It made sense, Eddie figured, he’d been so fixated on Steve lately, it was no wonder the boy was haunting his dreams again.

Rolling out of bed, he threw on the first items of clothing he could find. Normally he wouldn’t bother until after coffee, but the boys were coming over today and they didn’t exactly respect things like decent visiting hours, or knocking on doors. The last thing he needed was Dustin and all his friends busting into the trailer to find Eddie standing in the kitchen in nothing but his holey underwear. 

When he did finally step out of his room, he was doubly grateful that he had taken the time to get dressed. Sitting on the living room couch was uncle Wayne, who should have been sleeping, all of the younger boys, and chief Jim Hopper, who was holding Eddie's leather jacket and battle vest in his hands. He didn’t know how he hadn’t heard this many people in the small trailer, he must have really been out of it. 

All eyes fell on Eddie when he entered the room. The boys were sulking, Wayne looked worried and Hopper… well, Eddie didn’t know the man well enough to interpret his expression, but it looked a lot like Wayne’s. Which was weird. He had clearly been caught, Hopper should be pissed. Why wasn’t he being arrested right now?

Hopper rose from his seat and approached Eddie cautiously. He held the bundle of clothes out to him and Eddie took it, eyes wide. 

“I think we need to talk.”

*Steve - 1984*

The early days at Hawkins lab were rough. Steve was stripped of everything, given a plain gray sweat suit, and tossed into a windowless room on arrival. He could hear Eleven screaming his name over and over again, as she was dragged off somewhere down a long hallway. 

His accommodations were bare-bones. A small cot was shoved against one wall, covered in only a thin cotton blanket and a single pillow. There was a small writing table with a chair, and a toilet and sink sat in the corner. He spent the entire first day pounding on the locked door and demanding loudly to see his sister. 

He continued to beat on the door long after his knuckles had split and blood began to stain its surface. He screamed himself hoarse but didn’t stop until Brenner came by for a visit, and a warning. “I’ll remind you, Steven, that you are only here at my discretion, as a courtesy. I would just as soon have you killed as have you released, if you continue to be more trouble than you’re worth.”

He stops banging after that. 

Steve gave it a few days, but when there’s still no sign of El he started to panic. Not having many options, he briefly considered refusing to eat the meals he’s served three times a day, until he remembered that a hunger strike is worth nothing when your tormentors don’t care if you live or die. All he would accomplish is making himself weaker, and that wasn’t acceptable. He needed to stay strong, for her.

In the end, three weeks go by before the door opens and he is finally greeted by a set of familiar brown eyes. She was wearing clothing similar to his own and her hair had been freshly buzzed. The smile on Eleven’s face was dull, but present, as he surged forward to wrap his arms around her. 

He pulled back after a few short moments and studied her face. “Are you okay? What did they do to you?”

She didn’t answer, instead she took him by the hand and led him further down the hallway. Two men dressed all in white followed closely behind. 

They entered a room through a set of double doors. The guards remained outside in the hall, or would they be considered orderlies? Steve didn’t know, and supposed it didn’t really matter anyway, the bottom line was that they were being watched closely. Steve hadn’t seen much of the lab yet, apart from his own cell-like room, but after hearing eleven’s stories, he would know this place anywhere.

“The rainbow room.” He whispered, a little awestruck to be seeing it in person. It was just as she had described, the bright colors standing out in stark contrast to the white walls and floor. There were various games and activities set up at different stations throughout the room. Eleven went straight for the chess board and turned to look at Steve expectantly. He looked around for another minute, willing away the painful tightening in his chest, as he took it all in.

Finally, he joined her on the other side of the game board. “I don’t know how to play.” He said softly. 

“I’ll teach you.”

She patiently showed him how each piece was allowed to move. He didn’t really get it, but that didn’t matter, she explained, it was just something to make them look busy while they talked.

Steve inclined his head towards one of the cameras in the ceiling. “Can they hear us?”

El kept her attention locked on the chess board as she answered. “No, there’s no sound. Only video. If we are too loud, the guards might hear from outside, but otherwise we can talk freely.”

He followed her lead, attempting to look casual, disinterested even, as they spoke.

“I’m sorry it took so long for me to come see you. Papa wouldn’t let me until I agreed to help them put the monster back.” She said.

“Monster?” Steve asked, blood running cold.

“The day I ran away, I was looking for something, in the dark place..”

Steve nodded along. He didn’t really know what the dark place was, but he was used to this by now, not always knowing what she meant when she described something to do with her powers, but doing his best to follow along anyway. 

“I didn’t find it, but something found me. A creature, taller than you, and it had no face. Its mouth opened like a flower. I shouldn’t have touched it. It screamed, and I was so scared. I pulled away too fast and I think it used me to cross over to this side.” She maintained a neutral face but her eyes looked haunted.

It was so hard not to react, to concentrate on their game, when all Steve wanted to do was comfort her. 

“Is that how you got away? Because they were busy fighting the monster?” He asked.

“Yes. It’s been here all this time, they were able to trap it, but needed me to get rid of it.”

Steve ground his teeth. He could tell she blamed herself, but as far as he was concerned they brought her back here to clean up their mess. She wouldn’t have found the monster if Brenner hadn’t been forcing her to look for some mysterious bullshit. Why hadn’t they just killed the thing?

“I did it.” She continued, “but I was so tired after. I slept for a really long time. I needed to…” She trailed off. Her vocabulary had grown so much in their time together, but she still got stuck sometimes.

“Recharge?” Steve offered.

She let out a small smile. “Yes.”

“But you’re okay now? You’re sure?”

Before she could answer him, the doors opened and an unfamiliar man walked in. He wore a white coat over his brown suit, so Steve assumed he was another Doctor. Their time together was up, it seemed.

“Hey kiddo.” The man said, greeting El warmly. 

Steve bristled, moving to stand in front of her.

“Please, Steve. There's no need for that. I’m not here to hurt her.”

Steve crossed his arms over his chest, looking at the man dubiously. He didn’t believe it, but he knew there was no point in arguing.

The man shook his head and offered Steve a smile that, if he didn't know better, he would say looked fond. 

“I’m Doc Owens” He said, extending a hand. Steve shook it automatically, years of having good manners drilled into him making it a reflex.

“It’s okay Steve, I will see you tomorrow.” El said, stepping up beside him.

“Will she?” He was looking at her as he asked, but the question was directed at Owens.

“Of course, that was the deal. Eleven has agreed to continue our work in exchange for having you here, and getting a minimum of one hour of family time.” Steve had to squeeze his eyes shut. He would not cry in front of this man, but god did he hate this. 

“What exactly is your work?” Steve asks.

“You’ll have to speak to Doctor Brenner about that. I don’t know what I'm allowed to tell you. I’m sorry.” 

The thing was, Owens sounded like he meant it. Steve didn’t understand. Maybe he was actually a nice guy, or perhaps he was just a good actor. Either way, Steve filed the information away for later.  

-

He does, in fact, get to see his sister daily after that. He cherishes what little time they get together, even if he is frustrated at her new refusal to talk about what she does when he’s not around.” 

Steve also gets put to work, finally. It’s nothing exciting, cleaning mostly. He isn’t given a key card, for obvious reasons, so he has to be escorted to each new area when he’s done with the last, but it's fine. He doesn’t mind cleaning, had always found it therapeutic, and honestly he’s just happy to have something to do with his time because he was starting to lose his mind here. The new job also came with an exciting perk, the opportunity to learn the layout of the building.

Eventually, Steve starts having his own weekly sessions with Doctor Brenner. He imagines this is what therapy would be like, if your doctor was a manipulative sociopath, that is.

“I’m sure by now Eleven has told you what we do here.” Brenner began.

Steve had refused to speak at first during these sessions, but was again reminded of the consequences if he chose to be uncooperative.

“She hasn’t told me anything, but I'm sure you know that. I’m guessing you threatened her into silence with me?” 

“We both know that’s not entirely true. She told you about the creature, didn’t she?”

Steve scowled. “You’re right, she did tell me how she had to save your asses.”

“Now, son, It was her mess to clean up.”

Steve snorted.

“You believe she has done no wrong, but I wonder. Has she told you about the man she condemned to death by sending him into that place?”

Steve wasn’t dumb, contrary to popular belief. He knew what Brenner was trying to do, and it wouldn’t work. There's nothing this man could say that would turn him against El, but he never knew what information would be important, so he decided to play along for now.

“No, she didn’t”

“Henry was an orderly here. He’d taken a shine to Eleven, but it ended in disaster. More than one life was lost that day.”

Steve was at a loss for words. He believed in El, even if she had done what Brenner was implying, there must have been a reason for it. If it was true, she would tell him one day, when she was ready. He refused to let this man get in his head.

-

It’s been almost impossible to keep up with the days, but Steve is pretty sure it’s Fall the first time disaster strikes.

He and El were in the rainbow room when the alarm started blaring. They’d been having a good time laughing and drawing jack-o-lanterns with silly faces for each other. Steve wasn’t certain, but he thought it was near Halloween. As they drew, he told her about the holiday, and how kids would dress up in costumes and go trick or treating. He wished, as he did every day, that they were back home so he could show her these things instead of just telling her about them. 

The sound of the alarm is jarring to Steve, but Eleven looks stricken, terrified. 

Before he can form words to ask what’s going on, the two men who were tasked with looking after them today burst into the room. 

“Time to go.” One of them said, as he gripped Steve roughly on the arm. The second man grabbed Eleven. They were forced out into the hallway, where he shrugged off the man’s grasp.

“What’s going on?” Steve demanded. 

Neither of the guards answered or acknowledged that he spoke, Steve knew they wouldn’t. He was getting really tired of all this cloak and dagger bullshit.

When they reached his room, Steve was shoved inside. He expected them to move on quickly, to take El away, but instead he could hear the two men arguing in the hall.

“She needs to be put in her own room.”

“We’re in lock down, her wing is cut off from this side!”

“Take her back to the rainbow room then.”

“There's no lock on that door!”

“Fine!”

The door to his room abruptly reopened and Eleven stumbled inside. Steve could hear gunshots and men shouting. It was distant but still too close for comfort, and they were sitting ducks in here, trapped. Steve pulled El over and sat her down on the bed. She was shaking.

“Sweetie, please. Do you have any idea what’s going on out there?” He asked, carefully.

She was crying fully now, and he felt awful for pushing her. 

“I didn’t mean to do it, I told them it wasn’t safe!” She wailed.

Steve's stomach sank. “What isn’t safe, El?”

Her lower lip wobbled as she spoke. “I opened a door. To the place where the monster lives.”

It’s not good news, but Steve thinks if these people were able to contain the thing once, they should be able to do it again, right? He’s about to say as much, to reassure her, when the sound of many echoing growls reaches them. More than one creature then, great.

“Is that..” He trails off, looking at her.

El shook her head. “I don’t know. It sounds…I think they are something different.”

Before Steve could panic further, the door opened again, revealing a frantic Doc Owens. 

“Kiddo, I know you have no reason to help us but we need you. There’s too many of those things, and you’re the only one who can close the rift.”

Eleven looked at Steve for a long time before she nodded. “I’ll do it.”

“But, El, sending back just one monster put you down for weeks. What if..”

“I’m stronger now. It’s okay, you don’t need to worry. I’ll be fine.”

He knew he had no choice but to trust her, but he didn't have to let her go alone. “I’m going with her, I'm not letting her face, whatever those things are, alone.” Steve said, turning to face the other man. It was a statement, not a question. He was determined not to let her out of his sight tonight.

To his credit, Owens quickly agreed. “I understand. Come on, we need to go now.”

In the hallway, Steve asked to stop off at the supply closet. He knew better than to ask for a gun or something, but he didn’t want to run around empty handed either. Along with cleaning products, mops and buckets, the supply closet also housed some old sporting equipment, things that must have been leftover from the days when they had let the kids outside for exercise. Steve snatched up the baseball bat he had seen collecting dust in the corner, and the three of them headed for the elevator.

-

Steve was wholly unprepared for the things he saw that night. Like a pack of wild dogs, these smaller creatures, who shared the same flower petal mouths as their taller counterparts, guarded the gigantic pulsing red portal in the basement of the lab.

Several men wielding automatic weapons covered Steve and El as they boarded a platform that would lower them closer to the center of the opening. Steve’s head was on a swivel as he tried to keep his eyes on all of the creatures at once. He didn’t know how many there were, he tried to keep track but quickly lost count. 

More than once he was forced to wind his bat back and swing, hitting the creatures in the head with a sickening crack, as they tried to get to Eleven. As if somehow they knew she was here to stop them. 

Steve watched transfixed, as this amazing girl, who he was lucky enough to now call family, reached her hands out and screamed. She threw everything she had at it, as blood poured out of her nose in thick rivulets, and slowly the giant rift started to close.

Eleven swayed, and Steve was forced to drop the bat to catch her. She kept going as he held her up. He offered her his strength the only way he knew how. He held her,  kissed the top of her head, and told her he wasn’t going anywhere. He told her how amazing she was, and that he believed in her.

As soon as the rift was sealed all of the dog-like creatures collapsed. Unfortunately, before that happened one of them got a little too close and sliced its claw into Steve’s back. He ignored the pain and kept a firm hold on his little sister. 

When it was all over he lowered El to the ground slowly, careful not to drop her. She had passed out once her task was done. He worried for a moment that she had given too much of herself this time, but her pulse was strong. 

Steve laid down next to her to catch his breath. He only meant to rest for a moment but he was fading fast. He didn’t know how bad his wounds were, but distantly thought he might be bleeding out. He reached for El, so afraid to leave her here alone, and managed to drag her to his chest before the world went black.

Chapter 4

@penny00dreadful @buckleybarnes @steddie-there @yeahhhh-suga @goinsteddie @brbsoulnomming @the-s-is-silent @paintsplatteredandimperfect @estrellami-1 @herebedragons404 @epiclazershark @iaminmultiplefandoms @adaed5 @mentallyundone @hardboiledleggs @hotshot9 @manda-panda-monium @ellietheasexylibrarian @stxrcrossed186 @5ammi90 @meccaminayah

[ghoulishlygrey]

Ghosts / Chapter One: The Train

Chapter Two / Chapter Three

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Arthur Morgan x fem!reader

Non-explicit but later chapters will be (eventual smut)

Read it on ao3

Enjoy!

Word count: 3592

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

You were miserable. Your father had basically sold you to the highest bidder and now you were on a train headed to Canada. What awaited your arrival when you got to your destination was the real reason for your mood; an old, old, man who your darling father agreed to marry you off to for a hefty sum. The transaction was almost complete, all that was left was for you to arrive at your new life, serve as a housewife, pop out some kids and live the rest of your life looking out a window. You had just turned twenty-four a few months ago, it seemed like a waste.

You wring your glove in your hands, gaze fixated on the interior of the car. You came from a wealthy family, you were used to luxury, so the gold lining and velvet seats didn’t impress you much. Instead, you couldn’t help but yearn for the life you were leaving behind. You had older brothers, you were the youngest and only girl so you grew up doing things most young ladies in your circle would turn their noses up at. You rode horses, shot guns, played in the dirt, went on hikes, hell you would even wear pants. You shifted awkwardly in the corset and fancy coat you were currently wearing, crossing your legs under the heavy skirt. This frilly hat wasn’t doing you any favors either, if your scalp was any itchier, you’d have torn all your hair out to compensate. You adjust it, doing your best not to mess up your updo but trying in equal measure to satiate this damned itching.

The last stop had been a small town called Valentine, you had been a couple times in your youth, as it wasn’t too long of a ride from your estate in Saint Denis, but it had been years. You had rolled through when the sun was setting, now the sky was a signature navy blue as night overtook it. You were about to roll towards your window and try to get some sleep when the train screeched to a halt. You jerked upwards, eyes scanning the treeline outside your window for any clues as to what could be the cause but you find nothing, just empty blackness. 

“What in the world?” you mutter to yourself.

You stand, leaving your purse on the seat behind you as you make your way out of your private box and into the hallway. You knock on the neighboring box and they beckon you inside. It’s a wife and husband. The husband is looking rather bored, reading a newspaper by the lantern light while his wife looks like she’s about to explode with how red she was. 

“What’s going on?” You ask, shuffling into the room and smoothing your skirt down. 

“There’s a wagon on the tracks,” Says the wife, fanning herself with an intricate hand fan. “Hopefully it’s removed soon, we can’t afford to be off schedule.” 

“I see,” You say, secretly thanking whatever idiot left that wagon on the tracks. It bought you a little more time of freedom, just a little longer to be yourself. 

You nod your thanks before heading back to your box, sitting back down on the seat. You look out your window again to see horses, no riders, just horses. They were saddled, though and a few of them had guns strapped to their saddles. 

“What-?” You ask yourself before being cut off by muffled yelling. You stand, pressing your ear to the door.

“Don’t be a hero! Give me your damn purse, lady!” A man’s voice from outside yells, you can tell it’s coming from the neighbors box. Everything in you tenses with the sudden realization; the train was being robbed. 

“I will not allow you to do this sir!” The husband’s voice pipes up, clearly pushing back against the assailants. Dumb move, in your opinion. 

“You wanna show this son of a bitch we ain’t playing around here?” The voice says, speaking to someone else and signifying they were not alone.

It’s when you hear the thud of a punch landing do you decide what to do; you’re going to make a run for it.

They’re still in the other booth, if you’re quiet and quick enough, maybe by God’s grace you won’t be caught. You haven't prayed in years, haven’t touched a Bible for just as long, but damn, now felt like a good time to start. You slip quietly enough through the doors, clutching your purse tight to your chest as you tiptoe down the hallway and towards the back car exit. You go for the handle, it opens but squeaks like a bitch as it does.

“Damn!” You curse-mutter to yourself as you pick up the pace and squeeze your way through the half-opened door. 

“Hey! Someone’s sneaking out the back!” The man says, and you peer down the hallway to see them coming out from the box, stumbling over each other as they rush to catch up with you. One of them had longer hair, wearing striped, worn ranch pants, a long black coat, and a brown leather vest that went over a black shirt. The other was taller, wearing a black hat with rope around the base, a blue shirt, buckskin jacket and working pants. Both men sported a bandana to hide their identities. 

Before you could get a better look at them, you were jumping from the train. A hot wave of pain radiates from your ankle as you land, causing you to stumble in your long skirt. You look down at the offending ankle, you must have twisted it. You mentally curse yourself before you take off limping, trying your damnedest to get away from the men on the train. You turn your head, checking their positions. They were gaining on you, your only hope was to get to the treeline and disappear into the forest. After that? Well, you’d have to make contact with your father somehow, explain why you weren’t on your way to be married to a man close to death and beg him once again to reconsider. 

You were not in proper running clothes, your skirt and heeled boots were only slowing you down. Your lungs were on fire, ankle throbbing in pain as you gave it everything you could. You drop your purse by accident, swearing to yourself as you did. That purse held all your money, losing it was surely going to hurt later. That is, if you got out of this alive. 

The treeline is so close, but you can hear panting breaths from behind you.

“Stop!” One of them yells, too close for comfort. When you look behind you again, a hand reaches out and pulls you to the ground by your arm. 

“No!” You scream, kicking, but the one in blue has you on your stomach and is tying your hands behind your back. Then he goes to your ankles and ties those too, shooting a zap of pain up your leg when he touches the injured one. 

You groan in pain and look behind you, he didn’t seem to notice or care as he looked back to his partner. 

“What should we do with her?” The one in black asks, as he approaches the other one. 

“Leave her here, probably.” The one in blue says, “It’s not like she can identify us.” 

It was then you could see two other figures approaching from the train, one was tall and buff, with long hair and a darker complexion while the other was a redhead, wearing a green hat.

The redhead instantly starts talking, 

“What a score! What’d you boys end up rounding up, eh?” He says, Irish accent strong as he takes off his bandana. The men around you instantly tense up, the one in black brings his hand to his face to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Sean! For Christ’s sake, do you know what you just did?” The one in blue is talking now and your eyes burn into the redhead’s face, memorizing each feature. 

His eyes land on you.

“Shit- SHIT!” He curses, tying his bandana right back to his face. It was too late, you knew what he looked like, you were a liability, they’d surely kill you now… right?

“Well now what?” The one in black sounds annoyed, very annoyed and as if he’s speaking through his teeth. His arms are crossed over his chest and he taps his foot, they’re all silent as they try to come up with something.

You’re still wiggling in place, trying to loosen your ties to no avail, they were expertly tied. 

“Just let me go!” You pipe in, turning to look at the men once more. “I won’t say anything to anyone I swear!” 

They ignore you until the larger man with the longer hair says something.

“Maybe we should take her with us, I mean look at her. She’s all dressed up, surely somebody will pay a ransom.” 

You doubted it. Your father was so sick of you and your unlady-like ways, it was the reason he sold you off in the first place. And your new “fiance” had paid so much for you in the first place, you weren’t sure he’d pay any more. 

Tears flood your eyes as you begin to plead your case.

“Nobody is going to pay you.” You sob, salty droplets rolling down your pink cheeks. 

“We’ll see.” The one in blue says before bending over, grabbing your waist and slinging you across his shoulder. 

You yelp, wiggling with all your might to get out of his hold but he clamps down, unrelenting as he holds you. He whistles for his horse, which comes running from the treeline. 

“Charles, Sean, you two take a while before going back to camp, John and I will head back now with this one.” He was referring to you as he set you on the rump of his horse, face down like a dead deer. 

Charles just nods in agreement, Sean groans.

“It’s the middle of the night! Where am I supposed t’ go?” He protests, surely wanting to get back to said campsite. 

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” The man in blue says before climbing on his horse. 

The one you assume is John climbs on his horse and follows as the mystery man spurs his horse forward, setting a trotting pace as he steers back on the path. 

The ride is bumpy, and all you can do is cry. You were being taken for ransom, a ransom you knew wouldn’t be paid. Your pinned hat comes undone and falls to the ground, never to be seen again. As ugly as it was, it was expensive, and you cringe at the lost value. You watch as you pass lantern-lit homes, sleepy farmsteads, and trees. You watch as the mountains in the distance bump up and down with each movement of the horse. Your ankle has been growing in pain since the ride began, and all you can do is curse to yourself to cope.

“Whatchu cursing about back there?” The man asks, turning his head to meet your gaze as his horse takes the lead, clearly knowing the way home. 

“My ankle.” You explain, not in the mood to snap back with some harsh reply, “I think I twisted it something fierce.” 

“Someone will look at it when we get to camp. What’s your name?” He gruffs, looking ahead as the horse runs into a treeline and onto a smaller path. 

You say your name, just your first in case he would recognize your family name. Your father owned the canning company in the city, it was named after him so it wouldn’t be too hard to connect the dots. 

He repeats it to himself before saying, “Ain’t nobody here gonna lay a finger on you. You can relax.” 

You nod, sniffling and clinging to his promise with everything you had. 

The sound of low conversations, opera music, and laughter meets your ears and you perk up, but you had a limited view of everything from your position on the horse so you can’t see anything until you feel his hands at your waist again. He hoists you onto his shoulder again and you finally get a good look at the camp. It becomes clear to you that there was a whole gang of people staying here, not just the men. 

“Arthur!” A raspy voice calls out to the man carrying you. Arthur. That was his name.

“What in God’s name is this?” A man approaches, and he instantly strikes you as the leader. He was wearing fancy clothes, way fancier than any of the men you had already seen. 

“This is,” He says your name, setting you down on the ground gently and cutting your ties with a large knife from his gun belt. 

“And she’s gonna be useful to us one way or another.”

“Ransom?” The leader asks, hands on hips as he looks you up and down. 

“Maybe.” Arthur says, lighting up a cigarette and taking it to his lips. 

“For the last time, nobody is going to pay you for me.” You say, crossing your arms over your chest.

The leader gives Arthur a look.

“She saw Sean’s face, Dutch. Wasn’t much to do with her ‘cept bring her here.” He says, taking a long drag from his cigarette. 

Dutch. The realization hit you like cold water as you realized you were standing in the Dutch van der Linde encampment. It seemed so obvious now, you’d seen this man's wanted poster in town before. Your eyes are wide as you realize just how much shit you were in. 

“Plus she’s hurt. Told her someone would have a look at her.” Arthur adds.

There’s a silence, as if Dutch cannot believe what he’s hearing. And then;

“Miss Grimshaw! If you would please have a look at our-,” He pauses, searching for the right word, “-guest. See what you can do.” 

“Right away.” A woman pipes up from the crowd of onlookers and comes to your side. She’s older, with her hair tied back in a tidy bun with a gray streak in the front. She was wearing a long skirt, red jacket and golden pendant, different from everyone else who were in their sleeping clothes. She leads you to a chair around a campfire, positioning you in front of it so she could properly see. 

“Which ankle?” She asks, bending in front of you. You lift up the injured ankle and she takes it in her hand, removing your boot and examining your ankle through your sock. 

“It’s definitely swollen.” She says, getting up and dusting her hands off. “But not broken. Not from what I can tell, anyways. Strauss usually handles medicine but he’s off lending loans.” 

“Well, I ran on it.” You admit, keeping your foot extended as she turns to find some gauze. “Well why’d you do that?” She asks, returning to your foot and wrapping the gauze around your ankle and heel. 

“Was trying to get away from the scary men chasing me.” You reply, motioning over to where John and Arthur watched you from across the camp. They look away when you catch them staring.

“I see.” Miss Grimshaw says cooly, stepping away from you when she was finished. She was clearly not impressed by you, probably thought of you as dead weight she now had to carry. 

“We have an extra bedroll by Mary Beth, you can sleep there tonight.” She says, before turning to walk away.

“Wait, which one is Mary-Beth?” You ask, looking around. She points to a young girl curled up in her bedroll with a book, she’s too entranced by the pages to notice you both looking her way.

“Alright, thank you.” You say to her, before getting up and limping towards Mary-Beth. Finally, she sees you and instantly perks up, smiling at you widely. 

“Look who it is, the talk of the camp.” She greets, setting her book down next to her. You can see her clearly in the campfire glow now, she’s beautiful. With styled hair, adorable beauty marks, and big wide eyes, you can’t help but smile back, despite your situation. It’s not like you could run, they have armed guards surrounding the camp at all times. You had to make the most of this debacle, no matter what. 

“Hello,” You greet back.

“I’m Mary-Beth, and you are?” She asks sweetly, getting up to shake your hand.

You give her your name before taking her hand and shaking it. 

You look down at your clothes only to just now realize you didn’t have anything to sleep in. As if she could read your mind, Mary-Beth goes over to her trunk. 

“You can borrow one of my nightgowns until we can get you your own.” She says, digging around before pulling out a pristine looking nightgown. It was apparent she liked to keep clean, despite her surroundings. She holds it out for you to take, so you do, looking around for some place to change.

“What’s wrong?”She asks, following your gaze as you peer around. 

“Nothing, it’s just-- where do you guys change?” You ask, fiddling nervously at the button on your jacket. 

“Oh I usually just go behind the tent or one of the provision wagons.” She says, taking your hand. 

“I’ll show you.”

You follow her, not having another choice as she leads you behind the tent, away from prying eyes. She looks at you expectantly, waiting for you to strip. 

“Oh,” You say, draping the nightgown over one of the tent poles so your hands were free to undo the buttons on your jacket, letting it fall to the ground. Next, you shimmy out of your skirt so you’re left standing in your corset and underclothes. 

“Mary-Beth, would you mind?” You ask, turning around so she could undo the laces of your corset. 

“Of course.” She says, hands going to your back as she carefully undoes them. Soon, she’s finished, and that too falls to the ground. All you’re wearing now is your shift and bloomers, you pick the nightgown back up and pull it over your head and shoulders before slipping your arms through. 

“You dress so fancy,” She says, looking at your pile of clothes, “I’m jealous.” She laughs, picking them up and tucking them over her arm. 

“Not my choice.” You say, honestly. If it were up to you, you’d be wearing a simple blouse and skirt or even pants, just like you did at home. 

“I see,” She says, “Nonetheless, these will need to be washed.” She pats the clothes in her hands, dusting off what dirt she could. Who knew that being tackled to the ground, slung on the back of a horse and being manhandled could make clothes dirty. 

Your hands go to your tied up hair, taking out the pins and tossing them aside, never to be found again. Now your hair is down, brushing your shoulders as you shake it out, scalp sore from the tightness of your previous hairstyle. 

“There you go.” Mary-Beth smiles at you before putting her hands on your shoulders.

“You holding up okay?” She asks, sympathy in her eyes. The question makes you well up immediately. No, you weren’t okay. You had no idea what was going to happen next, no idea where you’d end up once they found out there was no ransom money to be made.

“I’ll live.” You hoped, hands coming up to swipe at your tears. 

“Oh honey,” She says, pulling you into a hug. You return it, relishing in a compassionate embrace. It was the first one in a long time. You didn’t have many friends back home, just your three older brothers; Richard, Thomas and John. You were lucky enough to be educated, as your mother insisted on it so she hired a private tutor to come mentor you during the weekdays. But it kept you so busy in your childhood, you never had the chance to go make connections, save for a few here and there. Your family was not the hugging type, and your father made sure to keep it a no-nonsense household. You were lucky your mother was lenient, so when your father was away on business trips you were able to get into all sorts of shenanigans with your brothers. It was times like those where you picked up your unladylike skills, like shooting and racing horses. When your father was home, you were reduced to playing the piano, painting or singing. All hobbies you enjoyed, sure, but you needed the freedom of choice, not just what you were expected to do..

You pull away first, “Thank you.” You say, and you meant it. You really needed that after the day you’ve been having. 

“You should know that the people here, we’re good people.” She pauses, “Well, most of us are. You have nothing to be afraid of.” 

“I’ll take your word for it.” You say, half-lying as you kept your wits about you, not letting your guard down. Not yet. 

“We should get some sleep, it’s late.” She says, gesturing in the direction of the bedrolls. You nod, following her back to the tent and sitting down on your bedroll. You get in, getting as comfortable as you could before settling in, closing your eyes and trying your damnedest to fall asleep. 

It was going to be a long night.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Notes:

Hope you guys like RDR2 because this is a fic I plan on sticking to for a while, and I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter even if it was a little slow!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Taglist (comment to be added)

@sprite-real

[eternally-frozen]

No words just... I love your recent dottore fic sm 😭😭😭 especially that lil story in the answer. I just love how 'soft' yet sadistic he is 😍😍😍

Thank you so much!!! It flopped with the audience but I'm so glad you liked it 😭 (honestly, where is the line for my audience? They like awake brain surgeries but not digging up empty caskets?? smh /lh) (also it's been a while since I was able to read stuff BUT I LOVE YOUR WORKS bhfsbfkgjkn)

Never before have you been this complaint. Dottore smiles as he watches you from a safe distance. It has been a while since he realized that he can do whatever he wants. As long as he's not seen by the public, he is in control of the situation. He started off simple. He popped up in the corner of your eye and he made a few short appearances in your life, trying to test out your reactions. When you don't reach out to family or one of the few friends you have left, he continues. One of the first times he decided to actively reveal himself, he chose to wait in the living room for you. You had just returned from work, already tired and exhausted (just as planned), and then you saw someone you knew to be dead. Dottore can't hide his smile as he watches you drop everything from your hands onto the ground. He notices your eyes widening, together with your mouth opening and closing- probably still trying to process the situation. That night he had planned to tell you everything, but when you started to mutter out 'he's dead.' and 'I stabbed him, this is not real.', he decided to have a bit of fun. After all, you stabbed him. He is more than allowed to take anything back from you in return, including your sanity. Over the following weeks, Dottore finds the right time to appear in your routine. He only shows himself when you're already tired or stressed out, and sooner than later he's able to do pretty much anything without you suspecting he's real. It was most likely his idea too, 'digging up the empty grave.' and all. He had quietly been dropping hints that 'he might not be dead', and within a week he was following your form from a distance as you made your way to the graveyard he was supposed to be buried in. He enjoys your struggle, he enjoys predicting your next move, and he enjoys it even more when he can get it right every time. He knows you so well. So well, in fact, that he's able to chain you down with fear, even when you realize that he was never dead to begin with. You truly are the only person capable of entertaining him.

Dottore probably had the time of his life watching his darling go insane </3 Sure, 'soft' Dottore XD He probably planned this, knowing him 😞 What an ass

[those70scomics]

Fictober Day 21: "we've done worse"

That '70s Show Fanfiction

Hyde and Forman stood outside Mitch Miller's house. They'd both traveled here, to Point Place, on a Saturday to fix Forman's screw-up and to fix Mitch. Forman probably would've preferred to have Mitch fixed by a veterinarian. The dude had been an obnoxious presence in his and Donna's lives for over a decade, but Hyde had a plan.

He reached for the doorbell, but Forman stopped him. "Are you sure what we're about to do is, you know, ethical?"

"We've done worse. Anyway, he'll either appreciate the manipulation or won't realize it."

Hyde rang the doorbell, and the front door swung open seconds later. "Gentleman," Mitch said, dressed in clothes suitable for a tennis match, "welcome to my home."

He took Hyde and Forman's coats and hung them in the foyer closet. The coats were bigger than he was, but he managed not to drop either.

Inside the heated living room, a charcuterie board was laid out on the coffee table. For a moment, Hyde was sent back to the Burkhart Estate, and he shivered. But this house was no mansion, and it wasn't in the town's richest neighborhood either. Trees lined the block with leaves of varying autumn colors, the only complimentary detail he could mention if asked.

The three of them sat, Hyde and Forman on the sofa and Mitch in a nearby armchair.

"I'm so glad you guys -- gentleman -- asked to meet! A catch-up before the Formans' big Halloween party." Mitch's joy failed to disguised a desperation Hyde recognized. It matched the purple undertone beneath Mitch's eyes and the mild tremor in Mitch's hands as he poured glasses of Sauvignon Blanc. "My cheddar is the good stuff. Not the cheap kind we use at Fatso Burger."

Forman accepted his glass of wine and sipped from it. Hyde put his down on the table. He used to believe he could handle his booze, but he'd been kidding himself. Cutting it out from his life, though, hadn't been tough. He was lucky.

"So, Eric, I read in the Point Place High Chronicle that you're working for Blinkhorn Toys." Mitch popped a chunk of cheddar into his mouth but kept talking. "Your dream job, huh? Yeah, I'm a business man myself."

Forman stuffed two cheddar pieces into his mouth. He was clearly too chicken-shit to do the talking, but Mitch had a history of out-talking him. Hyde got it, and he whispered to Forman, "Listen and learn."

Hyde laced his fingers over his lap. The jeans he and Forman wore stood out in sharp contrast to Mitch's white shorts, but Hyde's approach was meant to be casual. "How's your franchise doin'?" he said, already knowing the answer.

"Good, good!" The high pitch of Mitch's voice revealed the truth, and he drank half his glass of wine before continuing. "I convinced the owner to let me tailor the Point Place location to the town's tastes. It should have worked. Profits should've increased significantly, meriting me my own franchise with the fee waved."

He topped off his wine glass. Forman made a sound, but Hyde elbowed him in the ribs. Never stop someone from revealing intel, he wanted to tell him, but he waited for Mitch to continue.

"Being manager of a store comes with a lot of responsibilities," Mitch said, "especially a franchise." He drank from his glass then gestured at Hyde with it. "You know what I'm talking about, right? You managed the local Grooves for years."

"Yup, at nineteen. Tossed into the deep-end," Hyde said, but he'd had his sister's guidance and their dad's. "Made some changes to the store's focus. Not all of 'em went over well," at first.

Mitch ran his fingers through his hair, as red as Donna's. It became disheveled, which Hyde suspected was its natural state lately. "Fatso Burger's CEO is meeting with the franchisee on Monday. I'm pretty sure I'm gonna get fired."

He laughed the laugh of someone who was about to lose the last shred of his dignity -- or sanity. "My charisma has steered me wrong. I never thought this would be my life. I'm turning fucking thirty next year, and this is my life!" He drank even more wine, and Hyde moved the bottle of Sauvignon Blanc to the sofa's side table. "I should've started a cult when I had a chance."

"Okay, first, you were charismatic enough to sway my friends for, like, a day when we were teenagers," Forman said, "but no way you'd make it as a cult leader."

Hyde smiled to himself and leaned back against the sofa cushions. Forman had finally found his voice.

"A cult leader ... " Forman laughed once. "You could be a cult leader's toady, but you'd always be second."

"You're right!" Mitch shouted and burst into tears. "I'm pathetic."

Forman let him sob. He was enjoying this experience; Hyde spotted the corner of Forman's mouth lift into a smirk, but savoring Mitch's misery was not their goal.

"I wouldn't be where I am without you," Hyde said and clasped Forman's shoulder tightly. The pain he was causing showed on Forman's face. "I'm nobody's second, so why don't you tell Mitch how he can be first, too?"

"Right, yeah," Forman said while prying Hyde's fingers off him. "Mitch, it's simple: change everything about who you are, and you'll stop being pathetic."

Mitch peered up at Forman with red, puffy eyes and a flushed face. "But you have everything I want. My dream career, my dream woman. I'd have to kill you to be happy."

Forman turned to Hyde with a flurry of exasperated words and hand gestures. Hyde quieted him down with a look that communicated more than support. He would fix this sitch, as promised. A frog to Forman's arm might've had the same result, but Hyde needed to practice non-violent techniques. Fatherhood might be in his future, and he'd never lay a hostile finger on his kid.

"Dreams can take different forms, man," Hyde said to Mitch. "I've got a proposal for ya."

Mitch stared at him blankly, like Hyde were a frog bestowed with the power of speech. In response, Hyde pulled a two-by-two photograph from his wallet, and life returned to Mitch's face.

"This is Gretchen Hindley, VP of marketing at Grooves. She's searchin' for someone with your charisma and experience to fill a newly-vacated job." Hyde plucked Gretchen's business card from his wallet, placed it beside her picture on the coffee table. "She's also single and searchin' for a guy who'll treat her like she hung the freakin' moon."

Mitch examined both the photograph and the business card. "How tall is she?"

Forman sighed, but Hyde said, "Around my height."

"I love me a tall woman." Mitch flicked the business card against his wrist. "Mixing work and romance won't be a problem?"

"Not as long as both of you sign the forms HR'll give you. So what do ya think?"

Mitch quit flicking the business card and read it over. "Well, I have done a lot of promotions for Fatso Burger the last five years. I do a lot of person-to-person marketing ... "

Hyde knew this fact as well as Mitch's tenuous position at Fatso Burger. Jackie's dad had bought back the company after being released from prison. Turned out he wasn't as bankrupt as he'd left his family, had managed to transfer a sizeable chunk of money and stock portfolio to his best friend in Michigan. Best friend returned it all except for twenty percent. That was the deal. Underhanded but goddamn clever, and Jack gave Jackie the support -- financial and otherwise -- she needed, was owed, to begin her fashion house.

After one call, Jack had gotten Hyde a copy of Mitch's resumé ASAP, and Hyde's plan created itself.

"Would I have to move to Milwaukee if I got the job?" Mitch said.

"Yup, but I have a buddy in real-estate. He can help you find a good place to move."

Mitch rubbed his face with both hands. "This all sounds too good to be true." He gripped his chair's armrests and leaned toward Forman. "Are you messing with me? Because if you are, I will take you life -- in every sense."

"You're an asshole, and I hate you, but no," Forman said. "I asked Hyde to help you because Donna asked me to help you."

"Donna?" Mitch's voice wavered like might cry again. "She's a journalist ... and she must've dug up my dirt. Oh, how I wish her curiosity extended to my body."

Forman stood with balled fists, but Hyde yanked him by the shirt to the sofa. He stayed seated but grumbled.

"At least one person in this crappy town cares about me," Mitch said and gazed wistfully at both the photo and business card. "I'll give Gretchen a call."

He was wrong about so much, but correcting him would do more harm than good.

In the cold air outside Mitch's house, Forman exhaled a deep breath of white smoke. Relief rose off him similarly. "Thanks. ... Boy, do I owe you."

"Damn right."

Hyde wasn't thrilled by the prospect of Mitch living in his city. The music industry was filled with enough pinheads like him, but one more wouldn't hurt. Especially if it freed Forman and Donna from their quasi-stalker and gave Mitch a chance at a better life.

Hyde flinched at his own thoughts. Man, he'd become soft. Must've been a consequence of being happy.

[willkatfanfromasia]

A Matter of Chance -15

Nandini beheld the imposing stairs leading into the humongous fort gates, accentuated by the plethora of courtiers, palace ladies and priests lining them.

The greatest threat however, was the beautifully coiffed woman standing at the top with a aarthi plate. Aditha’s arm went to her back, fearing she may run.

“Never let them see your fear” she mentally chanted. She loathed their smug self assurance. But she was no longer a nobody-the man escorting her was evidence- and all others seemed to fade.

The ones who derisively called her “princess of the temple pond” through childhood now looked at her with something akin to wonderment.

That woman herself looked at her with amusement. The gall of her!

If that woman was his sister, then she was his future wife. She was in no way her inferior. Nandini made show of needing help, causing her beloved to hold her extra tightly as she walked up the steep staircase, ensuring she leaned into him as much as proper. Her koparakesari Aditha could no longer be overruled by Kundhavai or Sembiyan Madevi now.

She relished seeing the noblewomen who dreamt of marrying her Aditha, greeting her with placid reverence.

The two siblings greeted each other with warmth, relief flooding the younger sister’s face upon seeing Aditha’s confident eyes after years. She then turned to her.

Suppressing her anger and anxiety, Nandini began to greet ilaya piratti Kundhavai devi with a vanakkam . She still has the gall to look at her afterall she’d done to destroy her life!

“A pleasant surprise to see you again, devi” said the imperial princess

“the Lord has sent me where he sees fit” was Nandini’s cryptic reply. Not that you cared when you ousted me was left unsaid.

“You’ve spent years in the temple. I hope you take to court life just as well” said kundhavai as her eyes twinkled. Nandini, not wanting to see her any longer than needed, gently squeezed her darling’s arm and he led her in.

The Emperor and Empress, vague figures for someone who’d never lived in Thanjai, seemed miraculously polite. Surely they must’ve approved what their prodigal daughter and aunt had done?

Perhaps their relief at their son’s return surpasses their distaste for the orphan she mused.

They announced that they’ve decided on a wedding muhurtham falling on the last Friday next month at the palace temple, as the couple nodded their assent.

Aditha’s smile radiated true to his name, lighting up the throne room. The nearby ministers all seemed shocked by the sight. Nandini was privy to many such smiles, but the hearts of his parents rejoiced.

It was the emperor’s sympathetic glances that became the curveball she hadn’t anticipated. With every word, the old couple’s eyes seemed to soften and she didn’t know how to react.

The day was turning out to be far odder than expected.

As she and Aditha walked away, she swore she heard the empress whisper “is that truly..did she resemble her?” to her husband.

She was far too exhausted to think about odd aristocrats for the day. Must make use of my good fortune she decided.

Nandini was growing used to the palace environs and regalia, now that they were no longer tools to oppress her. She saw them as additional benefits to marrying the man she loved. Though still in disbelief deep down, she decided to accept the status quo.

It was the least she and karikalan deserved for the misery they underwent!

She had just made herself comfortable in the chaise lounge, surrounded by maids sorting flowers when a lady-in-waiting hurried in and announced

“Princess kundhavai, accompanied by a courtier, is here!” making Nandini’s eyes pop open.

_------------------_

It was truly an odd day for Nandini, she had entered the palace whose owners had exiled her, as the fiancée of the man who crushed her heart brutally only to revive it later.

He tolerated her coldness and insults, sneaking back into her heart....... and his parents didn’t seem to want to kill her anytime soon.

The woman she never wished to see again was seated in front of her, with her usual self important air.

But most shocking of all was the person accompanying the princess- her Anna thirumalai!

This was not what she had in mind when he described his job as ‘important’.

Krishna’s leelas know no end, she mused.

Her discerning fiancé apparently caught wind of his sister’s presence near her chambers, and barged in – ever ready to shield her. He marched over to behind her seat, hands beside her shoulders and glaring daggers at his sister.

Deivame! Everytime she thought to escape kundhavai’s presence, Aditha would arrive giving her a reason to stay.

“Your piety has finally borne fruit, Archagar veetu penne (priest's daughter), you’ve reached your aim”

kundhavai had sworn to make amends for her bullying but old habits die hard.

Her eyes reddened, she dared to mock her thus after causing her downfall. “Indeed ilaya piratti, it is futile to resist His plans no matter how powerful a mortal may be” She shot a sugary smile.

Kundhavai understood that the other woman’s presence is integral to ensure her brother stays in Thanjai and bound to duty, especially now that the subjects have warmed up to her. The princess elicited such resentment that Nandini forgot the presence of her brother till he spoke.

“My dear, I always wished for you to be the second Andal but the stars seem to have something else in store for you. Being married to a man so great is still a good way to work for humanity” thirumalai a.k.a Nambi affectionately said.

She felt betrayed that he worked for the ones she hated. Was his piety a mere façade? Knowing she needed contacts to survive court politics, she donned a pursed smile. “It is a blessing to see you here, Anna”

Aditha, till now a mute bystander, egged his sister and their spy to get to the matter. He didn’t wish for her to feel overwhelmed and flee.

Her Anna took a deep breath and began

“Kanne, in my years here I’ve been privy to many secrets. There are some whom I know better than they do themselves. You have just become one of them”

Here eyes wildly shifted around. What did he mean? Why would she matter- she knew her life’s trajectory well enough!

Aditha sensed her unease and sat beside her, drawing a bangle laden hand onto his lap. He too looked on gravely as his sister.

“What I mean is- I know the circumstances of your birth – your real parents “ her Anna continued.

Nandini let out a mirthless laugh. “What? Is my ancestry worthy of noting now that I’m to marry a prince? They felt no regret abandoning an infant- what does it matter now?”

Even as a child she’d felt a restlessness- a gnawing need to find out her birth parents and question them. After her exile, she desired to find her birth mother and cry in her lap out of misery. But alas!

“My dear sister, karikalan’s soldiers found some shady people eyeing your hut few months back. They lured them away for interrogation. It was this that prompted him to visit the forest.

The people refused to speak up despite threat, bribery and torture. My associates did some digging to reveal that they were pandyan abathudavigal, staking out locations to hide their king before the Cholas attacked”

This unnerved Nandini, but she knew a lone woman living in the woods was prime target. “I thank you for chasing them away but …”

“They wished for you to join them. Your mother was the wife of our emperor by gandharva rites long ago. When he left for Thanjai, she was bereft and tried to end her life unsuccessfully- resulting in loss of memory. She was seduced by Veera Pandyan- her husband’s nemesis- before she regained her memories. Unable to raise her children alone, she gave you away”

Nandini felt her world crash- her father was the exiled pandyan king?

Before she could deny, weep or rage her brain caught onto one word- “children”

“Why the plural” was the only response, despite the storm of emotions.

“A woman who was in dire straits to produce a living child assumed her son to be stillborn. Your mother gave your twin brother to be raised by her”

Silence reigned but the question was obvious.

“Sembiyan Madevi regrets the tumult caused” kundhavai said, looking abashed for the first time.

@nashibirne @nspwriteups @vibishalakshman @thelekhikawrites @dr-scribbler @kovaipaavai @budugu @dosai-maavu @matka-kulfi @nirmohi-premika @yehsahihai @curiousgalacticsoul @rang-lo @harinishivaa @chiyaanvikram @celestesinsight @inveter @deepti1011 @vidhurvrika @itszhunotz @babayagahunt @thegleamingmoon @maisadalawa @ragkee @inlovewithfictionalbeings @happysharkdragon @gowrimenonop-1 @ramcharanobsessed @nature-writes29 @voidsteffy

[clericofshadows]

don't ask about Ryuusei

Description: Regis Shepard receives an odd invite from Joker, which leads to him falling through a fish tank, being taken care of his lovers, and finding out that there's an identity theft plot against him--all in that order.

Pairing: Regis Shepard/Kaidan Alenko/Zaeed Massani

Rating: M

Word Count: ~14K

Regis was sitting at his desk, scrolling through his terminal when he saw a message from Moreau pop up.

Shepard, I've got a few things I wanted to go over with you. With the Normandy in dry dock, I figured we could meet up at that Ryuusei sushi place down in the Wards. I hear it's the best. Joker

Something was a bit off on the tone of the email, but it wouldn’t be the first time Moreau made EDI type up something for him.  He didn’t recognize the name of the restaurant, but the mention of sushi made him pull a face so he searched it up.  The first link revealed that it was not only a fancy, high-end sushi place but also housed in a fucking fish tank.  He knows how much Regis hates fish.  Hell, he was there when Regis boasted about getting the Cerberus crew to remove the eye-sore in his cabin.

So why would he ever suggest Ryuusei over any other restaurant?  Regis will go the extra mile for some of his crew, but taking someone out to a fish tank themed restaurant is crossing the damn line.

He pushed the chair away from his desk and stalked back over to the living room.  Kaidan made a concerned expression, sensing his anger from a mile away, making room for him on the couch.

“I’m going to murder him,” Regis said, flopping back down on the couch, pulling his omnitool out to show his husbands. “What the hell is this?”

Zaeed looked over his shoulder, squinting his eyes at the omnitool. “Are you sure it’s from him?”

“I’ve scanned it, ran it through my filters. Do you want me to message my friend in infosec? It’s legit,” he replied. “I’ve already looked up the place. It’s a fucking fish tank that only serves sushi and seafood. I’ll pass.”

“Joker’s an ass, but he’s not an idiot,” Kaidan said. Fair point to make. Moreau values his life over jokes when it comes to Regis. Most of the time. “Want us to go with you?”

“I might need some material witnesses, but I’d argue you’re both too damn biased to be of any use,” Regis said, turning to kiss Kaidan on the cheek. “I appreciate the offer, though.”

“That’s what Spectre authorizations are for, right? Abuse your goddamn power. Wipe your slate clean,” Zaeed chuckled. “So, are you going to go?”

“Might as well. What’s the worst that could happen?”

He could get food poisoning again.  He was fifteen years old, and his mother took him out to a place on Arcturus known for its seafood.  He was sick for days afterwards, his mother somehow escaping from the horror that he felt.

Regis swore off fish in any form since then. 

“I could think of a few things,” Kaidan said, furrowing his eyebrows. “You just jinxed us.”

Regis rolled his eyes. “Just be on standby, loves. Hell, why did this place highly recommend formal wear? I rather not waste one of my suits on Moreau.”

“Think of you wearing one of those suits as something we can take off of you later,” Zaeed said, leaning over the couch to whisper in his ear.

Regis smirked, pulling him in for a kiss. “You have good ideas, Massani. Fine, I’ll wear one of my suits. But not my nicest one.”

He got up from the couch. “I’ll be back. Don’t follow me, because I know damn well you’ll make me late.”

“What? We would never,” Kaidan replied, laying his hand on his chest in mock offense.

Regis walked backwards to the stairs. “Bullshit. I can see you two already scheming.”

“Only about tonight, baby,” Zaeed said, curling up next to Kaidan. “We would never sabotage an important meeting.”

Regis stopped at the stairwell, a hand on the railing. He glared at them with narrowed eyes. “Sure,” he said, drawing out the word. “And I’m definitely straight.”

“The horror!” Kaidan chuckled.  “Go get ready.  We’ll hold down the fort.”

Regis smiled as he walked up the stairs into their bedroom, opening the closet and sorting through his suits.  He grabbed a red vest, a black button down, slacks, and a pair of his combat boots.  For comfort.  He grabbed his silicone wedding rings and placed them on top of each other on his ring finger, keeping the real ones safe on his dog tags hanging in the jewelry box.

He also reached for his holster, designed to fit his N7 Eagle perfectly underneath his shoulder.  

Sitting on his weapon bench was one of his visors.  A thinner, smaller model turians tend to prefer to use, recently co-opted and refitted for human use.  He tucked it in his vest pocket, one of the arms of the visor hanging off the side of his pocket.

Because you never know.

He took his time getting ready, ensuring no piece was out of place.  He finished up by finger-combing some product in his hair and rubbing some oil into this beard.

When he walked down the stairs, rolling up his sleeves, revealing his inked arms, Zaeed let out a whistle.  Regis rolled his eyes as he stood in front of the couch, twirling around so they could look at his outfit.  “Good enough to take off of me later?”

“I don’t know,” Zaeed said, a sparkle in his eye.  “This is a picture I want to keep.  May just have to worship you with it on, only taking just enough off to make you writhe.”

Regis gave him a look , but he doubted it had much fire behind it.  “You are not going to ruin my suit.”  Zaeed held up his hands in surrender, keeping that smug expression on his face.  Bastard.  That’s all Regis is going to think about during the damn meet up.

Dry cleaning does exist…

Kaidan shook his head at Zaeed’s comment.  “Do you really need the Eagle?” He asked, pointing at the holster.

“I’m a Spectre.  I can open carry,” Regis said, crossing his arms.  “Too much?”

“Yes, I know you’re a Spectre.” Kaidan rolled his eyes.  Regis stuck out his tongue.  “Nah.  It suits you.  Makes it clear how you feel about the meeting.”

“I’m going to be pissed if I find out this could’ve been a damn email.” Regis said.  He stepped forward to kiss the both of them on the cheek.  “I’ll be back soon.”

“Try not to kill our pilot.  Don’t have many of those that will put up with our crew,” Zaeed called out as Regis opened the door.

He shot him a one-fingered salute in response.

The ride to the restaurant was quick enough.  Regis toyed with the rings on his finger, twisting them around.  He wasn’t anxious, per se, but he wasn’t exactly looking forward to the meeting.

Mostly because he was going to give Moreau one hell of an earful.  

The skycar stopped and he stepped outside, looking at the line of people.  As he walked to the end of the line, all eyes on the first Human Spectre and Admiral, the host waved him forward.  He sighed and got out of his place in line, stepping onto the fish tank floors, looking down on them with barely disguised annoyance.  Moreau waved him over to a table in the back, a grin on his face and wearing a casual blazer and jeans.  

Okay, something is weird.  Something is definitely up.  There’s no way he’ll ever be this enthusiastic about a meeting with Regis.  They tolerate each other, and that’s it.

He almost wanted to see if someone was behind him.

He walked over to the table and sat down, lacing his fingers together on the table.

Moreau’s gaze landed on his gun.  “Uh, was that really necessary?”

“Oh, you mean this?” Regis pointed at his holster.  “I don’t know. Why the hell did you invite me to what I could consider the biggest abomination of a restaurant on the Citadel?  You know I would’ve been perfectly fine at a damn noodle stand.”

“Wait a minute, you messaged me .  For a second, I thought it was a prank.  I mean, hello–” he gestured around.  “I know you.  This is your personal hell, but maybe you decided to let that all go to celebrate your favorite pilot.”

“My favorite pilot is EDI,” Regis deadpanned, keeping his face neutral as Moreau clutched at his chest in offense.  “Shit, so you got a message from me, and I got a message from you… I knew I should’ve involved infosec.”

“You were about to involve infosec?  Let me see that message you got,” he replied.  Regis obliged, pulling up his omnitool.  He read over it quickly.   “That’s weird.  My message is almost the same, except from you.”

“My filters and scans didn’t pick up any anomalies, so I just assumed you had EDI write and send it like you have a tendency of doing,” Regis replied, shutting it off.  “This isn’t good.”

“Hey, she offers!  It’s efficiency,” he defended.  His gaze fell to something behind him.  “Uh, there’s a low-ranking officer in blues trying to get our attention.”

Regis turned around to see a young woman waving desperately to get their attention, clothed in perfect dress blues, hat in place, and shoes shined to perfection.

Almost too perfect, but not uncommon with some of the lower ranks.  Wanting to make themselves seem as important as possible, which he couldn’t blame.

Still… This whole situation made him unnerved.  Regis got the attention of the host who was trying and nearly failing to hold her back.  He made a “come here” motion and the host reluctantly let her through as she stumbled forward.

Another thing bugged him.  Kaidan and Zaeed knew he was here.  How did she know he was here?  Did the press announce it that quickly?  Admiral Regis Shepard spotted at Ryuusei, more at 11?

She stopped at their table, holding a datapad, almost sounding out of breath as she introduced himself.  “Staff Analyst Maya Brooks.  Alliance Intelligence.  Com–Admiral Shepard, there are people trying to kill you.”

He’s been an Admiral since the end of the war.  Kind of annoying that some people still try to call him Commander.

He and Moreau shared a look.  Moreau spoke up.  “Uh, yeah, that’s pretty typical for Shepard.  What’s new?”

“No, like I’m aware of the remnants of Cerberus and other orgs, but ugh–” she shook her head, looking frustrated with herself.  “Someone is hacking into your accounts.  Comm channels, personal records… They’re targeting you specifically.”

Regis narrowed his eyes.  “I figured that out before you got here.  You and your department must’ve dropped the ball.  I have my own fucking security, so what the hell is going on?”

She flinched back at his hostility, but something about it looked exaggerated.  Perhaps he shouldn’t have been so harsh, but her high energy was getting on his nerves.  “We don’t have all the intel yet!  And I’m not about to guess when we don’t have all the information.”

Regis made a motion with his hand to continue.  “Well, what do you know?”

“Take a breath, Brooks,” Moreau said.  “Not like this is a life-or-death situation or anything.”

At that moment, out of the corner of his eye, he caught a lot of movement from the entrance.  With a hand on his gun, Regis watched as a whole group of armored, armed mercenaries started pouring in, pushing the host aside.

Shit.

Regis made no move just yet, not wanting to draw too much attention to himself.  He readied his Tech Armor on his omnitool, ready to flash-forge it over his body.

It’s a good thing he didn’t wear his best suit.  He had a feeling it wasn’t going to survive this trip.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen!  Tonight's performance is brought to you by random acts of violence,” one of the mercs announced, presumably the captain.  At his word, his fellow mercs started shooting in the air, causing chaos and throwing up tables, causing the civilians to scatter and cower in fear.  They shot at the glass, and Regis put on his visor as he got up, shielding Moreau from the fire and using the table as a make-shift shield.  

As the visor calibrated, he noticed that the structural integrity of the building was severely compromised.  You would've thought that an expensive restaurant would spring for the best glass for their precious fish.

He was going to leave a one-star review if he gets out of this mess.  

“Spread out boys!  Find me Shepard!” the captain announced.

Regis pushed Moreau down, keeping an eye on the analyst.  He drew his gun and activated his omnitool, typing out an SOS to Zaeed and Kaidan.

Need help.  Suit up fast.  Ryuusei.

The message lagged a bit before eventually sending.  Shit, they’re jamming comms too?  He sent it just in time, but the warning signs on his visor weren’t helping with all the chaos on the tanks.

A fish restaurant is not going to kill him today.

“Stay there,” he ordered Brooks.  “Moreau?” He asked, turning to him, looking him over with a concerned eye.  “Are you okay?”

“Ow, my pancreas,” he groaned, clutching his side.  “I’m fine.  More durable than you think.”

Regis rolled his eyes, about to move forward, but a merc came forward and yanked Brooks out of her cover.  She stumbled as they dragged her across the floor.  “Goddamn it,” Regis muttered.

“Listen,” he said, getting Moreau’s attention.  “I’m going to go after her.  I’ve already sent word to Kaidan and Zaeed but rally the crew.”

“Rally the crew and your crazy husbands, got it,” he said, slowly getting up from the cover.

Regis smirked and kept an eye on Moreau, waiting for a trooper to try and get the obvious bait, holstering his Eagle.  And then, one shouted.  “Hey!”

Regis reached up and yanked the merc over his cover, flash-forging his omni-blade and sinking it in his chest with a growl.

He took the weapon off the corpse, not recognizing it as anything currently on the market, much less the Spectre market.  Lightweight, suppressed, and human made.

Interesting.

“You used me as bait!” Moreau accused.

“Yes, I did.  Now get the hell out of here!” Regis replied, twisting his fingers into a barrier, feeling the dark energy settle over him.  He forged his Tech Armor as well, trying to provide as much protection on him as possible before leaving the compromised position.

Regis peaked around the corner, aiming with the new pistol and headshotting the nearest merc, watching in satisfaction as they collapsed to the ground.  The gun barely made a sound, low enough to not be immediately detected as a gunshot.

Well, his Eagle is going to be useless.  Damn. His favorite gun is already overshadowed by some new black-market tech. 

He crept forward, gathering dark energy in one hand, twisting it into a Reave, tossing it at the nearest merc.  The merc panicked, making him a perfect target.  Pull the trigger, and then-–dead.

Regis prepped an overload on his omnitool, using his eye-tracking software to pinpoint the group of mercs near the bar, creeping towards his location.  In a flash of red, he overloaded their shields in a rain of sparks, making them vulnerable to a blast of dark energy.  He teased the energy in his palm, twisting his fingers to point forwards into a shockwave.  The energy pulsed on the ground before blowing up in their faces, knocked out by the force of the blast.

“I’m over here!” Brooks called out.  Shit.  Another merc turned towards his direction, walking away from his position at the bar.  Can she not read the fucking room?

Regis reloaded the pistol, grabbing a fresh heat sink from the ground and vaulting over the bar.  He rushed towards the merc, detonating his tech armor with a clench of his fist, causing them to stagger.  He forged another omni blade and stabbed it through the helmet, ripping it away in a spray of blood.

There definitely goes his suit.  

Brooks was lying on the glass in front of the entrance.  He ran towards her, gunning down the merc guarding the entrance.  He slid down to her.  Holding out a hand, he helped her up, her grip very tight.  “You alright?” Regis asked, brushing off his vest, stuffing the new gun in his other holster.  “Come on, we need to–”

He heard the sound of jet-propelled armor, and then a flash of red.  She pushed him out of the way, Brooks took the shot meant for him, clipping her side.

Regis gritted his teeth as he moved to get up, winded by the way he fell on his back.  The merc continued to fire around him, missing every shot, hitting the glass…

Well, shit.  His visor flashed with warnings, the glass started to creak ominously, and then–

The glass shattered.

Regis cried out, reaching deep within the gravity well to start to slow his fall, but it failed, a spike of pain coming from his neck.  He blindly reached for something, anything to grab onto.  His hand slipped on the neon sign, the panels shattering with his weight until he stopped at the very end, his hand covered in cuts and starting to sting with the saltwater raining from above.

Slowly, carefully, he raised himself up, cringing at the pain radiating up from his hands and bare arms.

How the hell is he going to get out of this?

He started to try and climb up more, but then it started to creak.  He widened his eyes as the sigh failed to support his weight, and he fell with a shout, rolling down the glass windows.

Reaching out for more purchase, his grip landed up an open window, and he was dangling once more.  No time to think, no time to do anything as he looked up and saw more glass and remnants of the sign raining down.

He took a breath and let go of the open window, sliding and rolling down the wall until he landed on a solid platform.  

Water still rained down on top of him as he slowly rose up, clutching his side and looking over his body.  His hands were shredded and covered in blood.  His arms were marred with cuts.  He was soaked and smelling like fish.

Sure, he’s been through hell many times.  But somehow the fish part made this encounter part of his worst.  

With a pained sigh, he activated his omnitool and cursed at his low level of medigel, barely enough to seal the worst of the cuts on his hand.  He applied it gently to his hands, ripping off parts of his dress pants to create a crude bandage.

It will be enough for now.

He glanced at his visor’s HUD, noticing that his amp was overloaded.  Shit.  No wonder he couldn’t levitate down.  

He’ll need a new replacement, stat.

A flick of his wrist, and his omnitool reactivated.  He searched through the comm feeds, only picking up on a local one.  All others were still blocked, no way to get a message through to any of his crew.

He reached for the suppressed pistol, looking around to try and get his bearings.  

“Admiral! I found a secure terminal.  Are you okay down there?”  Of all the people that are able to reach out to him.

“Yeah, feeling peachy.”  No, he’s not okay.  Not about to admit that to her.

He made his way through the scaffolding, jumping over to the next platform and sliding down the ladder.  “Didn’t you get hit?” He asked, making conversation.

“Yup!  I used a lot of medigel.  Too much of it, maybe.  Everything is a bit… bouncy?”  She sounded very chipper, almost manic.  

“You used too much,” he confirmed absentmindedly, jumping over to another set of platforms and sliding down another ladder, wincing at the contact with his abused hands.  “Alert C-Sec.  I’m looking for a way out.”

She didn’t immediately reply, and Regis was almost thankful for it.  His gaze landed on a skycar lot across the street, selling top of the line models.  A skycar took off from the landing pad.  “I see a lot and a landing pad.  Cision Motors.”

“Yeah, I see it!” 

“Good.  Get a shuttle there ASAP,” he ordered as he made his way down, finding himself in front of a freezer storage of some sort.

“So, um, it turns out that C-Sec has the whole area locked down.  It’s going to be tricky to get a shuttle down there.”

Great.  Regis made his way through the freezer, rubbing his arms at the sudden chill.  “Well, keep at it and find a fucking solution!”  He glanced back down at his omnitool, seeing two comm requests pop up.  He read through their signatures and pushed them through, recognizing his husbands’ sigs from a mile away.

Finally.  Some real help.  

“Oh, and you should stay off your comm.  Except for me!  Because it’s hacked.  And that’s how they found you.”  Ain’t that convenient.  He ignored her, climbing up the ladder and nodding at the salarian taking a smoke break, who barely spared him a glance.  

“Do you even know who these mercs are?” He asked, hoping she had something to give him.

“No.  They really don’t seem to like you!”

“That’s real helpful, Brooks.  Thanks for that very astute observation,” Regis growled out, crouching down at the top of the building.  

Why is it taking so damn long for their comms to get through?  He glanced back down at his omnitool and pushed them through again, changing the security on the fly so they could patch into Brooks’ comm instead of his own.

If she complains about it, he’s muting her.

He leapt from building to building until he stopped at one at the edge of the market, seeing a group of the same mercs patrolling around.  Shit.

Without his biotics, this wasn’t going to be fun.  His visor helpfully outputted that the temp of his amp had gone down, but diagnostics were still too volatile for him to risk it.

“Regis!  Can you hear me?” Kaidan’s voice appeared, and Regis relaxed minutely.  

“Yes, love.  Loud and clear.  Zaeed got routed in, too?” Regis replied with a relieved smile, still perched on the top of the building, scanning the area before dropping down quietly, crouching down behind a random stall.

“Of course.  We’re on foot, but close.  Goddamn, can we ever have a peaceful leave?” Zaeed said. 

Regis was looking forward to them peeling his suit off of him.  Now all he wanted to do is soak in that hot tub and never come out.  

“Joker let us know what happened.  Did you really use him as bait?” Kaidan chuckled.

“Excuse me, who is this?  You’re on an unsecured channel, and you are putting Admiral Shepard in danger!” Brooks yelled out.  Regis shook his head and shot at the nearest merc, watching him collapse to the ground in a satisfying crumble.

“And who the hell are you?” Zaeed cut in.  “Not like we have a lot of options here.”

Regis ignored the conversation as he summoned a drone, directing it to distract the mercs heading towards the body.  

As they focused on the drone, he detonated it, overloading their shields and making them vulnerable to a few well-placed shots. Well, if they aren’t going to introduce themselves, he might as well do it.  Not like he’s fighting for his life here or anything.  

“Zaeed, Kaidan, this is Staff Analyst Brooks.  Brooks, these are my husbands, Zaeed and Kaidan.  Not the type to be putting me in danger,” Regis explained as he crept through the alleyway, keeping an eye on any other mercs.  “Play nice, because I’m in the middle of something here.”

“As if you ever play nice,” Kaidan said with a barely disguised snort.  “Can you send me your diag?”

Regis sent the outputs through the comm, hoping there was enough bandwidth to handle the data transfer.  Luckily, it went through, and Regis rolled over to the nearest stand, aiming for the next group of mercs with another primed and ready overload.

“We’ll make sure to call Vik so they can get you checked out.” Regis could hear his wince across the comm.  Yeah, he knew they weren’t great, but Kaidan was the most knowledgeable about bio-feeds.

The fact that he’s favoring Vik over Chakwas is signal enough that his amp problem is something serious.  Great.  Just like he thought but hoped he interpreted incorrectly.

He fired off the overload, taking down the second group with precision, disposing of the smoking heat sink and scooping up another off of the corpses.  

“Just my amp.  Can easily be replaced.  I’ll be fine,” Regis said, checking his program cooldowns before switching over to the cryo freeze, firing it off at a sniper who was getting set up at the back counter.  

He took a deep breath and continued forward, starting to feel weary.  His hands and arms ached, and he was sure he was going to be a massive bruise by tomorrow.  

Keep pressing forward, Regis.  It’s this or death.

At the end of the street was a locked door.  He glanced at the security and pushed through his Spectre credentials, the door opening and confirming his status.  

“I’m almost at the lot.  Just have a few more mercs I need to fight through,” Regis said, crouching behind an elegant potted plant.  “Unless any of you are close enough to go ahead and save my ass?”

“Almost there!” Kaidan said.  “Hold out a bit longer.”

“You say that like it’s easy,” he muttered, temporarily muting himself.  He unmuted, “Glad to hear!”

He summoned his drone again and drew some of the mercs towards him.  His hands started to shake as he raised up the pistol.  Shit.  He needs to get out of here, fast.

His first shot went wide, but the next hit home, taking down one of the mercs as the other shot at his drone.  

He ordered the drone to shock the merc in a blast of sparks, finishing them off with another bullet.  Only a few more to go.

He glanced at his diags again, seeing the output of his amp improving.  Normally, he wouldn’t do this, but this is not a normal situation.  He flicked his fingers into a singularity, feeling his corona roar to life before tossing it at the group of mercs waiting at the entrance to the skycar lot.

“Admiral!  There’s a C-Sec shuttle inbound if you can get to the car lot,” Brooks announced.

“Got it,” Regis said, trying to keep his voice steady.

He’s going to pay for that later with one hell of a migraine.

Worth it to stay alive.  

He grabbed some more clips and holstered the suppressed pistol, noticing a M-11 on the side.  He traded it out for his Eagle, not caring for stealth at the moment, although he noticed that the gun pierced through armor like no other, almost like a mini Widow.  

As he walked into the lot, he saw Kaidan holding a group of mercs in the air with his biotics, his corona burning blue.  Zaeed had his Widow out, sniping the heads of the mercs before Kaidan threw them against the wall in a blast of dark energy. 

Regis holstered his gun as Kaidan walked towards him, his corona slowly dissipating.  To his immense pleasure both Zaeed and Kaidan opted to wear their matching long coats and infiltration style gear, Kaidan’s blue duster marked with the Spectre logo.

Kaidan’s expression morphed into one of concern as he got a better look at him, gaze falling on his hands.  “What happened?”

“Fell through a fucking fish tank,” he replied, opening his arms for a hug.  Kaidan hugged him back, and Regis let Kaidan support him as Zaeed prepped some medigel.

“And your amp?” Zaeed asked after they broke apart, clasping Regis on the shoulder.  “I still want to take that suit off of you.”  Kaidan rolled his eyes, shaking his head at his husband.

“Me too, so we can burn it later.” Regis sat down on the curb, taking a breath.  “My amp needs to be replaced.  It’s better than what it was, but I don’t trust it right now.”

“We’ll be calling Vik the moment we get back to the apartment,” Kaidan said with a nod, sitting down beside him.  “Now be honest.  Scale of one to ten.”

Regis closed his eyes.  “Five, maybe six?  That fall fucked me up.  Only came out of it unscathed as it did probably due to Cerberus’s enhancements.”

Zaeed activated his Kuwashii visor and performed a scan of his own, kneeling down, starting to administer some medigel to the more superficial wounds.  “Don’t see anything too abnormal, but I’m no medic.  Your goddamn amp is still going crazy.”

“I may have used some biotics even after it threw a warning,” Regis admitted.

Kaidan gave him a hard look, but it was softened by the concern still written on his face.  “Don’t use any more until we can get you checked out.  Are your programs still running at optimal levels?”

Regis gave him a hard look of his own.  “You know who you’re talking to, right?” He stood up and forged his tech armor.  “No issues at all.”

“Then stick to them,” Kaidan said with a pointed look, checking over his N7 Valkyrie.  

Zaeed stepped in between them.  “Love the foreplay.  Let’s get out of here?  Landing pad is beyond a locked gate, maybe we should find a way to open it so we can get on with it?”

“Oh, I’m sure you want us to get on with it,” Kaidan muttered.

Regis rolled his eyes and stalked over to the set of offices where there was likely some sort of master lock to unlock the gates.  They followed him as he activated his omnitool, priming it to overload the door.  “Stand back.”

Kaidan slowly lowered his raised arm.  “Just a minute, love.” He moved to knock on the window, and Regis noticed a volus sitting underneath the window.  Ah.

“Would’ve been faster if you let him destroy the damn lock,” Zaeed said, gesturing with the Widow.  “Hell, I could’ve blasted it off for you.”

Kaidan ignored them both.  “Could you unlock the gate?”

With a mechanical sound, the gates lowered into the floor.  “Thanks.” Kaidan said, walking past both of them with a smirk on his face.

“Well, I could’ve done that ,” Regis muttered, following close behind him.  

“Boring.  We could've been out of here by now if you hadn’t played nice,” Zaeed said, clapping him on the back.  

“Isn’t that what you love about me?” Kaidan shot back, walking backwards towards the landing pad.  “We need someone in this relationship who doesn’t immediately resort to violence.”

“There’s a key word in that sentence, love,” Regis teased.  “‘Immediately.’”  

As they made it to the landing pad, they saw a C-Sec shuttle flying towards them.  Regis lowered his gun, raising up an arm to shield his face as the shuttle started to lower.  The shuttle door opened, and he caught the flash of a turret.  Shit.  Nothing is ever easy.

“Get down!” Kaidan ordered, summoning up a biotic bubble as the mercs opened fire, bullets stopping in the wake of the dark energy surrounding them.  Zaeed pushed them both behind the lot’s sign, throwing off a bundle of Inferno grenades to cover them before ducking into the bubble.

Kaidan let the bubble go, conserving his energy.  They all shared a look, looking at each other first before glancing back at the shuttle, looking for a way out.

And then, the sound of glass shattering and the distinct sound of a krogan war cry came out of nowhere.  Regis glanced at his diags to make sure he hadn’t fallen into shock.

“Is that–fucking hell…” Zaeed said in growing awe as the sound of an engine blowing up filled the air.  “Good goddamn timing.”

The shuttle crashed to the ground and Regis risked a glance around the sign, seeing Wrex pummeling the mercs without breaking a sweat, headbutting and pushing them around before tossing one unlucky bastard out the back door.

“Just to make it clear, Wrex was not one of the people we informed,” Kaidan said, walking out of cover.

Wrex walked towards them calmly after kicking another merc out of the shuttle.  “Maybe you should’ve, Alenko.  Almost missed all the fun!”

Wrex pulled a minigun from a corpse and tossed it to Regis, who caught it with a grin.  “Glad to have you here.  So, what exactly are you doing here anyway?” Regis asked.  

“Butting heads with the Council over krogan expansion,” he said.  “Shepard, you should take up the human council position!  We’ll have someone who could have our backs.”

Regis shuddered at the thought.  “Respectfully Wrex, that’s going to be a hell-fucking-no.”

“Ah, what a shame.  I get it though.” Wrex nodded at Zaeed who did the same in response.  

Regis looked over the minigun as an explosion rocked the area, coming from inside the building.  He sighed, shaking his head.  “Wrex, you with me?”

“Always, my friend.  Now, stay back.  You’re too squishy in that outfit of yours,” Wrex said, priming his shotgun.

Mercs poured in from the ceiling, jumping down and ready for a fight.  Two biotics–well, technically one at the moment–one krogan, and one pissed-off merc versus a whole company of mercs.

Yeah, that sounds about right.

Regis dashed over to the nearest cover, which was yet another sign advertising the business.

“So, we got a way out of here?” Wrex asked as he lifted a whole group of mecs for Zaeed to snipe.

“Of course we do.  We’re goddamn professionals,” Zaeed replied, picking them off one by one. 

“That’s not a yes, love!” Kaidan called out, throwing out a quick overload to take down an engineer about to set up a turret.  Regis sent out his drone to assist, despite being low on resources.  He tested the gun and took down a group of mercs advancing towards him, mowing them down without much effort.

He’s still going to mostly sit this one out.  He’s not an idiot.

“Admiral!” Moreau’s voice filled the comm.  “We’re on our way.  I picked up Brooks.  Figured you have a few questions.”

Sure, but not right at this minute.  “Maybe later.  By the way, that shuttle you sent?  The C-Sec shuttle wasn’t C-Sec, it was filled with a bunch of mercs.  So please, hurry up,” Regis replied, taking out a few enemy drones heading towards him with precision.  

“What?!” Brooks asked with an exaggerated inquiring tone.  

“You heard me,” Regis growled out, taking a breath as he replenished his tech armor.  

“Right, sorry.  We’ll be there soon!”

Regis started to feel a little bad for being so hostile, but something about her was rubbing him the wrong way.  No one can be that damn chipper.

“Great place to fight in.  Lots to destroy!” Wrex announced and the tell-tale sound of glass shattering filled the air.  Zaeed shouted with glee as he fired off something explosive.  Kaidan started to fall back, heading to Regis’s position.

Regis shook his head but was grinning all the same.  Yeah, he missed this kind of action, not getting up to much of it post-war, clearing out Cerberus stations and herding survivors, working to scout the galaxy and continue looking for more history.

“Approaching your position, Admiral.  Just following the gunfire,” Moreau chuckled.  “Sorry it’s taking a while.  Had to take the scenic route.”

“Copy that,” Regis acknowledged.  He prepped another overload as a sniper tried to sneak up on him, their cloak revealed by his visor.  No match for his technology.  He fired it off, paying little mind to the arguing going on the comm.  Brooks started yelling at Moreau for nearly crashing multiple times.

If it gets them here faster, Regis didn’t care how they did it.

“Hey, Shepard, get to the shuttle!” Moreau announced as the sounds of whirring engines grew louder and louder.  

Kaidan yelled.  “Fall back!” Starting to provide cover fire, he extended his barrier so that it would also envelop Regis, the blue dark energy surrounding him in a protective field.  

Moreau maneuvered the shuttle so it was hovering just above the ground.  Wrex charged towards the shuttle, throwing a set of Warp grenades behind him that exploded in a flurry of blue and red before jumping aboard.  Zaeed was close behind, jumping on and holding out an arm.  Regis grabbed onto him, and Zaeed pulled him close, holding onto Regis tightly as he stumbled forward.

Kaidan jumped aboard once everyone was secure and Moreau shut the shuttle door, halting the path of gunfire.

He took off in a burst of speed that was definitely illegal for this sector of the Citadel, the sounds of gunfire slowly quietening down.  

Regis clung to Zaeed as they headed back to safety in silence, Kaidan watching them with a concerned eye.  Even Wrex looked worried, leaning against the back wall of the shuttle.

“Vik’s meeting us at the apartment,” Kaidan said, breaking the silence. “Finally got the comms through.”

“Thanks.  Adrian coming too?” Regis asked, trying to keep the exhaustion from creeping into his tone.

“Nah, just them.  Figured you wanted a quiet apartment when we get home,” Kaidan replied.

Regis nodded in response, Zaeed rubbing circles into his back.  “We’ll be home soon, babe.  Ready to jump in that tub?  You smell like shit.”

Regis couldn’t help but laugh.  “I’m well aware.”

Before they entered the apartment, Wrex asked, “Someone want to tell me what’s going on here?”

Kaidan stepped between him and Regis.  “After we get cleaned up.”

“But it’s important we stop the threat now!” Brooks said, moving past to try and get into the apartment.

“And it can wait until I get my damn amp replaced,” Regis said, blocking her from moving any further.  “Get the rest of the crew up to speed.  A few hours isn’t going to make any difference.”

“Come on, Brooks,” Moreau said, motioning for her to follow, meeting his gaze with a nod.  “We’ll meet with the crew down on the strip.”

Wrex stayed behind as Moreau more or less started dragging Brooks with him.  The moment they stepped into the elevator, Wrex motioned at the door.  “Want me to keep an eye on your place as you take a breather?”

“That would be great,” Regis said, relieved.  “I’m expecting Vik, remember them?”

“Sure do.  I’ll make sure that only they get in for you.”

“Much appreciated, Wrex,” Zaeed said, shaking his hand.  

“Anything for you. Try not to get too distracted with each other,” he laughed.

Kaidan rolled his eyes as he unlocked the door.  “I make no promises to that.”

His laughter filled the air as they walked into the apartment, only quietening down after the door was closed.

Safe in the apartment, Regis started to pull off his ruined suit, tossing both his Eagle and the mystery M-11 on the coffee table.  Kaidan moved in to help him, batting his hands away as he unbuttoned the silk shirt, gently pulling it off of him to not disturb the healing skin.  Some bruises had already started to form, coloring his chest in a mass of purple.  Regis winced as Kaidan ran a gentle hand down his chest, feeling for any abnormalities.  “Let’s take the rest of this upstairs.”

Regis looked over at the stairway with hesitation.  “Is it too much to ask for one of you to carry me?”

“‘Course not,” Zaeed said.  “But before I pick you up, don’t play the strong Admiral.  How are you really feeling right now?”

“Terrible,” Regis said with a sigh, sitting down on the couch despite his ruined pants.  He kicked off his boots.  “Neither one of you want to know how close I was to falling to my damn death back there.”

“Joker let us know.  He caught a glimpse of the hole,” Kaidan said quietly, pressing a gentle kiss on the pulse point of his neck.  “But you’re here now, and that’s all that matters.”

“I felt so helpless,” he admitted, looking down at his knees.  “When my amp failed, I thought that this was it, no way out.  Too damn lucky that I caught my hand on a sign and then on an open window after the sign broke.” He shook his head.  “If any of the crew even thinks about joking about what happened…” he trailed off with a yawn, his unspoken threat losing steam.  “You get the idea.”

“Most of the crew has a good head on their shoulders.  Doubt they’ll risk your ire,” Zaeed said, taking off his gloves and tossing them on the couch, shrugging off his duster.  “Ready?”

Regis nodded and allowed himself to be picked up into a bridal carry, cradled close to Zaeed’s chest as they walked upstairs.  He could’ve made the trip, honestly.

But he wanted to be taken care of, and he was glad they picked up on that.  He hadn’t felt so vulnerable in a long time, and he hated that he was put into that position.

Especially in front of an officer he knows nothing about.

Zaeed put him down in front of the bathroom and Regis pressed a kiss on the corner of his lip before stripping down, throwing the ruined and torn pants into a corner of the room.  Kaidan had followed them inside their bedroom, stopping in the doorway.  “I’m going to wait for Vik downstairs and start looking into this mess in the Spectre channels.  Need me for anything?” Kaidan asked.

“I think we have it handled, babe,” Zaeed replied.  “But don’t get too deep into it right now.”

Kaidan smiled.  “I make no promises, love.  Now relax and get better, Regis.  Take all the time you need.”

“Don’t worry, I definitely will,” Regis said, pulling off his underwear and slipping inside the hottub with a groan.  He felt both their gazes on him as he sunk into the water, dunking his head to get his hair wet and to start to scrub out the grime from the day.

“If you’re going to look at me, join me,” he said, pointing at them both.

Kaidan chuckled once Zaeed started to strip the rest of his leathers down, pulling off the reinforced fibers with quick precision.  Regis watched as Kaidan leaned in to kiss Zaeed on the lips, cupping his head and pulling him close, pulling away just before it got heated.  Zaeed almost seemed to chase after Kaidan, wanting more as he walked away from the bedroom.

Regis thought they all needed some quiet reassurance.  

Zaeed tugged off his underwear and joined him in the tub. Regis raised up and Zaeed settled behind him, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him in close against his soft chest.  He sighed, closing his eyes and relaxing into the embrace.

Zaeed grabbed Regis’s favorite shampoo and started to lather it into his hair, massaging Regis’s scalp with expert hands.  He allowed himself to be pampered, to be taken care of.  

A ritual they do if a mission almost went south.  When they knew it was life or death. 

They knew the score.  So called “old” soldiers and mercs have been at it for too long and yet none of them want to leave.  

Moments like this, however, reminded them what danger still lurked, how easy one of them could be taken away.

When Zaeed was done with his hair, Regis took a second to wash out the suds.  About to grab the bottle to do the same for him, Zaeed batted his hand away, pushed the shampoo further away from him, and instead reached for the citrus scented conditioner.  “You can take care of me later.”

Regis only hummed in response, relaxing even more as he started to work the conditioner into his hair, expertly applying it to his curls and combing out tangles with his fingers, making perfect little coils as he went along.  

Maybe he’ll keep his eyes closed.  Yeah, that felt nice.  The sensation of being taken care of along with the repetitive sounds of the jets in the tub lulled him to sleep, allowing himself to relax fully knowing he was safe in the arms of a man he loved.

“Regis?” 

His eyes popped open and he realized he wasn’t in the tub anymore as he raised up quickly, finding himself clothed in loose joggers and resting on their bed with a knitted blanket wrapped around him.

Was he really asleep for that long?

He rubbed at his eyes and noticed that the cuts on his body were nearly healed by the medigel, but the remnants of the heavy bruising still remained.  It’s going to take a couple of applications to get rid of that, and Regis preferred healing things like that naturally, not liking the feeling of medigel unless it was necessary.

Kaidan had changed into a blue sweater and jeans, sleeves rolled up.  “You fell asleep on Zaeed.  He cleaned you up and got you tucked in.  Only been about thirty, forty-five minutes.”

Looking around the room, he saw no sign of Zaeed.  “Took care of me and bailed?” he chuckled.  

“He’s out there with Vik and Ash.  She wasn’t about to let Wrex stop her from checking up on you,” he explained.  

Ah, Ash is here too?  Great.  He wanted to hear her thoughts on this mess before his apartment becomes home base for whatever the hell is going on.  

“Good. Go ahead and send them up for me.  And can you hand me one of my sweaters?” He asked.

“Of course, love.  One of your off the shoulder ones?” He replied, opening one of the drawers after typing a quick message on his omnitool. 

“Yeah.  Vik needs easy access to my port.  Are you going to get yours checked out while they’re here?” Regis asked after Kaidan handed him the sweater.

“Nah, they already ran some basic diags.  All my outputs are good, so they’re not worried.  We use different amps anyway.”

“Knew I shouldn’t have tried that fucking Savant.  Work well but get pissy if you mod them,” Regis muttered as he pulled on the black, loose sweater.  

“You modded a Savant?” Kaidan shook his head.  “I doubt the Serrice Council will take kindly to that.  Reason number one why I don’t use their stuff.  Too damn regulated.”

“Hey, they have great outputs that are even better if you overclock them,” Regis defended.  It’s not that he liked the Savants, but rather he enjoyed beating them down into submission. 

“And that’s why I stick to HMBA.  Modifiable, open source to Spectres, and I’m not breaking any terms of service in the process,” Kaidan said with a pointed look.

“Regis, my darling, you know how much I hate the Savant line,” Vik said as they entered the room, carrying a case full of their supplies.  “If you’re going to go crazy, use one of my Armali mods if you must.”

“Armali has shitty power output,” Regis said, crossing his arms. 

“Which is why I modded them,” they repeated.  “I even have a license in order to do so.”

“Don’t argue with the doc, Regis,” Ashley said, leaning against the doorway.  “We need to get you back out there so we can deal with the bastards who decided to target you.”

Regis rolled his eyes.  “Good to see you too, Ash.  Keeping my crew in check?”

“Only had to shut down a few who thought it was unfortunate you destroyed their favorite restaurant.”

“Thanks,” he nodded.  

“No problem,” she waved it off.  “Zaeed’s currently deciding if he wants to go down there and give the crew a piece of his mind or continue his debate with Wrex.”

“Do I even want to know what they’re arguing about?” Regis asked, watching Vik place their case on his weapon bench and take out some supplies.  

“Last I heard they were bitching about shotgun mods,” Kaidan said, crossing his arms.  

“It’s gotten worse.  Inferno versus Warp grenades,” Ashley said, almost sounding grim.

“Inferno grenades are superior.  If you’re going to Warp someone, do it right from the get-go.  No external hardware required,” Vik said, walking back over to the bed, omnitool active and diagnostic tools in hand.  “Sit up straight for me.”

Regis did as they said and closed his eyes as Vik felt for the synth-skin covering his wetware, housed just underneath his Torfan tattoo–the black skull that used to represent his squad.  “Ah, there we go.  Dare I say that Cerberus improved on interfacing?” They commented, raising up their omnitool and inputting a code.  

Regis felt a twinge as his cybernetics adapted to the code, pulling the skin away to reveal the port underneath.  “Which is why I’m working with Miranda to adapt this technology on a consumer level.”

“And you two are doing impressive work.  Cannot wait to see it leave the trials.  You are going to revolutionize biotic interfacing and so much more,” Vik said.  “Kaidan, how is it working on you?”

He rubbed his neck.  “Feels weird having easy access to my ports again, but I knew what I signed up for when I kept mine underneath the skin for better protection.  Never liked the idea of exposed ports.”

Vik hummed as they scanned the port for any abnormalities.  “I don’t see anything concerning.  Just a temperature spike that caused the amp to shut down before rebooting.  What were you doing when it shorted?”

“Trying to levitate down when I fell from that fucking fish tank,” Regis said, keeping his head still.  

“Ah.  Well, it’s going to happen again if you do anything intensive like that, I’m afraid.  Were you able to do feats like that previously with no issues?”

“Been a while since I’ve had to do a maneuver like that, so honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever tested that specific mnemonic with it.  Handled everything else I threw at it,” Regis admitted.

“Say it with me–” Vik started to say, but Regis interrupted him.

“Yes, yes, I know, test all maneuvers with any new amp and any new mods,” Regis sighed.  “Been a little slow lately, so I never got around to testing everything.”

“Regis…” Kaidan started, getting that tone of voice that meant Kaidan was more than a little annoyed with him. 

“Yeah, I know,” he repeated, closing his eyes.  “I won’t do any more experimenting with my amps without testing everything I do.  Happy?”

“Only once I see it in practice,” Kaidan said, his voice taking on a lower tone.  

“Ah great, you two are flirting,” Ashley said, exasperated.  “Keep that up and I’m leaving.  Don’t need to hear how you solve problems.”

Kaidan chuckled.  “Sometimes he makes it so easy.”

“He is right here,” Regis muttered.  “Vik, can you remove it already?”

“Of course.  What do you want me to replace it with?” they replied, professional as ever.  

“How are your Armali mods?  I like the blending they provide, but again, I miss the better power output in return.”

Vik grabbed the sealed container housing the chip.  “Very comparable to an overclocked HMBA.  You’ll still find that HMBA has better power outputs, but you lose out on the blending you prefer to do.  HMBA is perfect for more controlled powers versus on the fly.  Armali will allow you to stick to your style without sacrificing too much.  If you hate it we can swap it out for something else.  I probably won’t be offended.”

Regis mulled it over in his head.  HMBA isn’t a bad amp per se, but he wasn’t too fond of its rigidity.  Which suited Kaidan just fine, as he tended to stick to one mnemonic at a time, giving time to cool down and settle his field in between.  

Regis was a speedcaster, switching and twisting mnemonics together to create reactions and unpredictable attacks only his lovers and most trusted companions know how to read.  Sure, he could stick to rigidity if needed.  But after Cerberus, he almost seemed to do far better with on-the-fly adjustments than ever before.

He blames it on the constant feeling of survival he felt while trapped in their claws, his biotics never quite the same since his resurrection. Kaidan always reassured that his field felt the same, when their coronas would intersect and twine with each other on the battlefield and in the bedroom.

But he could never shake the feeling that his biotics turned into their own beast after Lazarus.  

“Let’s try it.  If not, I’ll follow Kaidan’s route and trick out a HMBA,” Regis said.  He caught Kaidan’s gaze, and he looked so smug.  Bastard.  He’ll wipe that smirk off his face once he gets his amp back in order and kicks everyone out of his apartment…

“Great.  Now, take a deep breath for me,” Vik said, reaching in to disconnect the amp.  Regis breathed in slowly, waiting to feel the detachment.

He shuddered as Vik pulled out the amp, feeling like he was dunked in cold water, his veins turning to ice.  The corona pulsed around him once before winking out in a flash.  “Fuck,” he muttered, taking slow, deep breaths, his heart racing.  

“That’s what happens when you swap out an amp?” Ashley asked.  “Damn… how does it feel?”

“Getting dunked in cold water,” Kaidan said, face pinched in discomfort.  “Feeling sluggish even though your movements are clear.  Feeling like your sensations are both heightened and diminished.”

“Exactly,” Regis said.  “Feels different for every biotic, but most L2s tend to get the same effects.  More intense.”

“Afraid it's not much different for us,” Vik said, dropping the amp into a separate container. “Technically I’ll need to report this to Serrice, but they also won’t take kindly to someone interfering with their settings.  Even if you’re a Spectre.”

“So, what are you going to do?” Ashley asked.  “Come on, we can bend the rules.”

“And that’s exactly what I’m going to do.  I’ll wipe the logs with my software, fudge the numbers, and they won’t look at it any more than usual because they’re getting it from me,” Vik explained.  “Anything for you, Reggie.”

And there’s Vik’s way of showing that they’re doing him a massive favor.  Goddammit.  

“Wait, Reggie ?” Ashley repeated, her face breaking out into a grin.  “How have I not heard that before?”

If his amp port wasn’t open, he would’ve started strangling Vik already.

“Oops,” Vik said, not sounding sorry at all.  “Anyway, ready for the insert?”

“Do it,” Regis said with gritted teeth.  “So, I can strangle you faster.”

“Hmm, maybe I have more diagnostics to do.  Read some more logs.  Get a good picture of your outputs…” Vik chuckled and turned to Ashley.  "Childhood nickname that he secretly loves.  Don’t deny it!”

“Does that mean you have childhood pictures too?  Please, I need to see them,” Ashley said.  “He must’ve been so cute!”

“I was fucking adorable,” Regis said, interrupting their conversation.  “You can see all the baby pictures you want after you reseat my amp.”  Ashley gave him a cheeky thumbs-up, looking expectantly at Kaidan, who held up his omnitool to prepare a data transfer.  Traitor.  

“Breath in deep for me, darling,” Vik said, taking the new amp out of its case.  

Regis breathed in while they inserted the amp, his corona igniting in a bright violet in response.  He exhaled as he let his corona surround him, keeping a handle on biotics from flaring out, adjusting to the difference in outputs on the fly.  As a test, he pulled the scope sitting on his bench towards him.  It flew towards him quickly, landing in his hand without a hitch.  “Much better,” Regis sighed, crossing his legs into his meditative position, allowing himself to slowly levitate with a push off the bed before settling down.  

“Beautiful,” Vik observed.  “I think you’ll find that my amp will rank among the best.”  They finished up by scanning it once more and resealing the synth-skin with another code.  Regis rubbed at the now-sealed skin once finished, itching slightly after it meshed back together. 

“I don’t even know if I can test it fully with all this shit going on,” Regis said, retracting his field.  Kaidan’s biotics had reacted in kind, a subtle blue field around his eyes glowed while the rest of his corona was carefully hidden.  

“Armax is just down the street,” Ashley said.  “Surely we can get a few matches in.”

“Depending on what we find out,” Kaidan said, crossing his arms.  “None of the Spectre channels had anything that stood out, and I couldn’t get Hackett on the comm.  I could contact Hannah, but I figured you wanted to keep this on the downlow.” 

“Fair enough.  She’ll be worried, and I don’t want to deal with that right now.” Regis looked down at his loungewear.  “If I’m going to talk with the crew, I’m getting changed into something different.”

“You and your appearances,” Vik muttered, packing up their stuff.  “Need me to hang out while you debrief?” “If you want,” Regis said.  

VIk shrugged.  “Might need someone to patch all of you up.  Karin is at some sort of conference right now, right?”

Ashley nodded.  “Yeah, she’s sorry she can’t make it.  And both Kaidan and I told her to stay put.”

“Then I’ll hang around.  Ash, let’s sort through some pictures,” Vik said, offering a hand.  Ashley took it with a grin, leaving Kaidan and Regis in their bedroom.  He tugged off his sweater, looking through the closet until he found another one of his black button downs and slacks, pulling them on before grabbing a pair of socks.  

“Feel better?” Kaidan teased, eyeing him up and down before grabbing both his hands.  He leaned in for a kiss, and Regis returned it, soft and full of yearning.  Hesitant to break apart, they both kept chasing each other.  Regis removed his hands from his and pulled Kaidan in closer, cupping his neck and tangling a hand in his hair, breathing in his scent and his love.  They finally broke apart after Kaidan started to kiss down his neck, peppering light kisses on Regis’s tattoo, stopping at the skin showing at the unbuttoned collar.  “You smell better, too.”

“And here I thought you had more tact than Zaeed,” Regis rolled his eyes.  “We better head down before they all assume we’re doing something else.”

“Probably too late for that,” he chuckled, reaching for Regis’s hand again.  “Come on.”

They walked downstairs, hand-in-hand.  Zaeed whistled at them, changed into a short sleeve white button down and jeans.  “Beginning to think I needed to break you two up.”

“Or join them,” Ashley piped up, sitting on the couch next to Vik.  

“Says you,” Regis said, directed at Zaeed, the two of them joining him by the fireplace.  “Shall I tell the gang what you wanted to do to me earlier?”

“Might need to be more specific.  I probably said a lot of things,” he laughed.  

Regis shook his head as Wrex walked over to the door, letting Moreau and Brooks in.  “Finally!” Brooks exclaimed.  “You know, I can’t believe you survived all that.  They had guns!  And grenades!  And those drone things!”

“As did Cerberus and nearly every other organization I’ve had to fight against,” Regis said, opening his omnitool.  “Has anyone contacted C-Sec?  Need to get Bailey read in on this.”

“Okay, that sounds… Wait!  Wouldn’t that make whoever you contact a target too?” Brooks interjected, resting her chin on her hand.

Regis narrowed his eyes.  “It’s C-Sec.  You know, the security force onboard this station?”

“Honestly Shepard, she has a point,” Moreau said.  “Do we even need to take that risk?”

Regis sighed and shut off his omnitool.  “Fair enough. Guess we run this ourselves like everything else.”

“Wow, you agreed with me?  Can you say it again?” Moreau asked eagerly, a grin on his face. 

Regis gave him an annoyed look, about to tell him to bring up the rest of the crew when Brooks rambled, “Right.  Ourselves.  On our own.  Outside the law.  Okay, yeah.”

Even Kaidan started to look frustrated, a pinched expression on his face, his eyebrows slightly furrowed together.  “Brooks, you need to focus,” Kaidan said.  “You have a team of Alliance soldiers, Spectres, and top operatives from different species.  If you can’t handle this, I suggest you sit this out and let us handle it.”

“I can’t sit this out!” She replied, balling her hands in fists.

“Fine,” Regis said, staring her down.  “But this is my operation, and you will work under my orders.  If I find that you are a liability to us and the mission, I will contact whoever I deem necessary to deal with the situation and damn the consequences.  Clear?”

“Crystal,” she said with a nod, her voice surprisingly steady.  

He can’t get a read on her.  Maybe she’s too green, trying to over and undercompensate.  It’s been a while since Regis has dealt with anyone in Intelligence that wasn’t a high rank, and a lot of people did join up after the war.  

Perhaps he should withhold his judgment of her for now, skewed by his frustration at the whole situation.

“How did you even get involved in this mess?” Ashley asked.  

She straightened up.  “I monitor data for Alliance Intel to prevent fraud and hacking of officer IDs.  Like someone using an admiral’s pass to get into a nightclub on the Citadel when that admiral is currently stationed on Pinnacle.  I wrote a tracking program.  It’s really neat!   I named it ‘Mr. Biscuits’ after my cat.”

“Brooks,” Ashley said, getting her attention.

“Right!  Sorry… Anyway, my program detected a breach in your classified files.  Soon, everything we had on you was compromised: personnel files, mission reports, everything.”

Regis swore, shaking his head.  “So, what you’re telling me is that they now have access to my military codes?  My Spectre codes?  Explains why they wanted to kill me.”

“Nothing to stop them until the damage is done,” Wrex said with a nod.  

Regis looked at his crew, his gaze lingering on Kaidan and Zaeed.  “Then we need to figure out who they are and shut them down.  Ideas?”

“What about that pistol you picked up?  A goddamn work of art,” Zaeed said, motioning to the M-11 still sitting on the table.  

“Damn thing is so tiny I thought I was going to fucking break it,” Regis said, picking it up.  “Packs a punch like a mini-Widow.”

The door chimed and Kaidan moved to check on whoever was at the door.  A moment later he opened it to reveal Wren with her omnitool out.  

“Hey Wren!” Ash waved.  “Glad you could join us.”

“Of course!  Been doing some research on my own.  Glyph can hopefully give us some insight on that cute little pistol you have,” she replied, summoning up the drone.

“Did you ever get all the bugs fixed?” Regis chuckled.  “Stubborn little guy.”

“Not really…” she trailed off, staring at the cyan drone.  “It still bugs out some, but it is less bound to misinterpret orders.  85 percent of the time.  Anyway, Glyph, start looking into this M-11.”

“I’ll begin collating relevant intel for review, Major Clarkson,” Glyph said, discs spinning. 

“Well, I’m glad to see you in one piece.  Hell of a fall back there,” she said, holding out her hand.  

He shook it with a firm grip.  “I’m alright.  Still healing up, but I’m ready to deal with whatever happens next.”

“Good to hear.  You know, you did the galaxy a favor getting rid of that place.  Overpriced, overrated, and some of the blandest food I’ve ever had,” she said, shaking her head.  “Saved me the trip of having to take it down myself, if you know what I mean.”

She turned to Brooks.  “Come with me.  Catch me up on what we know.”  Brooks nodded and followed her to the dining table in the back of the kitchen.  

“Well, Wren’s on point,” Wrex said.  “So, where’s the rest of your crew?”

Moreau held up his omnitool.  “Getting that covered right… now.”

The door chimed.  Regis waved his omnitool to unlock it remotely.  

“Had to gather some people who actually like getting shot at, you know,” he said as EDI walked in, flanked by Tali, Cortez, and Javik.  

“Permission to come aboard, Admiral?” Tali asked cheekily.

Regis grinned.  “I don’t know.  This is my quiet place after all.”

“Good to see you doing okay.  Wasn’t sure how to react after I heard what happened,” she replied, hugging him from the side, her knitted poncho swaying with the gesture.  “Say, how did you get roped up into going to a sushi restaurant?”

“Thought Moreau was pulling a fast one on me and wanted to put him in his place,” he replied, glancing over at Moreau who ignored him in favor of talking with EDI by the bar.  “Turns out it was an assassination attempt.”

“It’s never a dull day, is it?” She laughed.  “Ah well.  I got a little bit of relaxation in, and that’s all that matters.”

Kaidan and Zaeed rejoined him by his side after catching up with some of the crew.  He turned to face both of them, lit by the fireplace.  “You know, it was nice to see you two in action at the car lot.  It was pretty hot.”

Both Ashley and Tali groaned.  “Really, Regis?” Tali said, sitting down on the couch next to Ashley.  Vik looked amused, watching them with a barely concealed glee.

He ignored them.  Kaidan crossed his arms, nudging Zaeed with his shoulder.  “Why, thank you.”

“We try,” Zaeed smirked.  

Regis smiled, feeling his cheeks heat up.  “What would I do without you both?”

“You’ll never find out,” Kaidan said as Zaeed chuckled, “There’s no goddamn way you’ll ever find out.”

“God, you three are so sickening,” Ashley said, shaking her head.

“Which is why we keep them on their toes!” Tali said, giving them all a look.  “Time and a place.”

“This is my apartment.  I’m going to do whatever I want in it,” Regis shot back as Zaeed kissed his cheek.  

“You tell them, babe.”

Regis shook his head.  “I’m going to check in with the crew, and hopefully soon Wren wil have figured something out.”

“Are we embarrassing you, love?” Kaidan asked.  “Go on, do your job.”

“I’m not the only Admiral here.”

“And yet you’re the one who is in charge of the ship.”

Regis gave him a look and twitched his fingers, sending a small burst of dark energy to shock Kaidan.  He walked away with a smirk, knowing his gaze was following him as he walked over to Moearu and EDI.

“You know, he used me as bait,” he said, sitting at the bar.

“Yes.  You have mentioned that a few times, Jeff,” she replied.  “A sound solution.”

“Hey, you’re supposed to be on my side!”

“I’m on the side of data, which states that Shepard’s strategy ensured that you got out with minimal injuries.”

“My pride is injured.”

“An unfortunate side effect that is rectified by personal growth and reflection,” she replied, not missing a beat.  

Yeah, they’re fine.  No need to interrupt.

Steve was sitting at the bar in the back of his apartment, away from all the chaos.  Probably the quietest part of his place at the moment.  “Hey Shepard.  Glad you made it out okay.”

“Hey Steve,” Regis said, sitting down next to him.  “Adrian didn’t join us?”

He shook his head.  “Nah, said something about a job he needed to look into.  He’ll try to stop by later, wanting me to tell you he is worried about you.  But I know he’s not going to miss out on spending time with Vik so…” He trailed off, a knowing look in his eye.  “I should’ve brought Tomas into this.”

“Coats would’ve been great to have on hand,” Regis said with a nod.  “I’ve been meaning to ask if he wants to transfer on board the Normandy.  Thoughts?”

“You matchmaker,” Steve said, blushing.  “If you can make it happen and he’s fine with being on board our little circus, I’m okay with that.”

“Of course, anything for my crew.”

“Almost anything,” Steve corrected.  “After that fiasco, never go out to eat with Joker!”

“Not that I ever enjoyed going out with him before,” Regis chuckled.  “If I need a pilot in this mess, you’ll be the first I’ll call.”

“I’m sure Joker will take offense to that.”

“He knows I prefer you on the shuttle excursions.  He’s a bit too… showy,” Regis said, shaking his head.  

“Oh, I agree.  Time and a place.  Finesse is what’s needed for drop-ins.”

“Admiral,” Javik greeted as he joined them.  “Much quieter back here.”

Regis motioned for him to sit down, but he stayed standing.  “It is.  Calm before the storm.  Anything you want to say?”

He shook his head.  “Nothing that hasn’t already been said.  This is a first for me.  Never heard of anyone in my cycle falling through a fish tank.”

“Wasn’t exactly my fault,” Regis said with a pointed look.  “Blame the mercs.”

“I think I’m going to enjoy teaching them a lesson,” he grinned, showing pointed, thin teeth.  “I heard our Broker say she found something out.  Maybe it will be useful to us.”

“Thanks, Javik.”

He walked down the hallway to join Wren and Brooks.  “If you’re ready, I already found something.”

“Want me to go ahead and gather the team?” Regis asked.  

“Please do.  The faster the better,” she said, not looking up from her portable terminal.

Regis announced for everyone to huddle up, and soon enough, the crew was around the dining table, waiting for Wren’s announcement.  Like always, Kaidan and Zaeed stood next to him, flanking him on both sides.

Wren looked around the table, seemingly counting off everyone before clearing her throat.  “We have a lead.  I called in some favors to run a trace on the gun.”  She typed something on her terminal that brought up a picture of an older man.  “Which brought me to Elijah Khan.  A casino owner who has been suspected of using his profits to smuggle weapons into the Citadel.”

“I found it interesting that after the attempt on Regis’s life, Khan made a call.”  She pulled up the audio, the picture changing to a basic media player.

“I’m cutting you off and returning your down payment now.”  The first voice must be Khan, sounding frustrated, perhaps even panicked.

“What’s the problem?”  Someone replied, their voice sounding altered to stay anonymous.  

“Turn on a vidscreen!  When I sell a gun, I don’t want it showing up on the nightly news!”  Great.  Guess he needs to expect an interview or two in the future.  

“You won’t be linked to me,” the voice replied.

“Save it.  Our association is terminated.  And if you even think about coming after me, I’ve got info on you ready for prime time, so you ponder that.  Khan out.”

The call ended, and Regis crossed his arms against his chest.  “Found our identity thief.”

“Unfortunately, they have an ID disguiser,” Vik nearly groaned.  “Not even Adrian can get around those reliably.”

Regis sighed.  “I was afraid of that.  Anyway, did you find anything on the mercs?  Affiliations, origins, any of that shit?”

Wren nodded, looking grim.  “A PMC named CAT-6.  As most of you should know, it’s the Alliance term for dishonorable discharge.  Criminal records, steroid use, violent histories… you know the drill.  Definitely hired by the thief, no association with Khan.”

“Good job with the phone call,” Kaidan said in approval. 

“We can lean on Khan, probably get him to squeal,” Zaeed said, looking down at the gun.  “Throw in a few Spectre threats and we can get him to talk all while taking the goddamn bastard down.”

Wren shook her head.  “If only it were that easy.  The casino has a panic room and chances are, he’ll go to ground there.”

“I would suggest providing programs to hack the doors alongside your own security,” EDI started to say, turning to face Regis and Wren.  “But there are many guards and cameras on the premises.”

“Yeah.” Brooks said, adjusting her hat.  “He could disappear or worse.  If his guards ever open fire, normal people could get hit.  Like I did.”

He hated to admit she had a point.  But ‘normal’ people?  Seriously?  “I agree.  We can’t risk any civilians that could be targeted by our actions.  So, we go in quiet.  Small team.  No gunplay.”

Glyph reappeared on the table.  “Major Clarkson.  This evening the casino will be hosting a charity event to continue to assist refugees from the war.”

Wren smiled.  “Perfect.  Purchase some tickets and pull up a layout of the building.”

A holographic display of the casino appeared with a few key points highlighted on the map.

“This is great and all… but how close can we get?  Who puts a backdoor in a panic room?” Moreau asked.

“Allow me,” EDI said, stepping forward and adjusting the sleeves on her button down, her visor changing blue as she interacted with the map.  Parts of the map changed red, highlighting air shafts and vents.  “This air shaft bypasses the security gate and ends up in storage.  From there, the panic room’s door-camera can be disabled.”

“This isn’t just any casino,” Kaidan said, tilting his head to the side.  “There has to be alarms in the shaft.”

“I have some countermeasures that should help.  I’ll know more once our team gets inside,” Wren said, swiping to another screen on her terminal.  

Javik looked at the map, resting his chin on his fingers.  “Whoever goes inside that shaft needs to be small in size.”

Wrex laughed.  “Yeah, that’s not me.” He gestured down at his armor.

Everyone’s gaze slowly fell on Tali.  She shook her head.   “I’ve done my time in the vents before.  And besides, my suit’s built in tech will be picked up by the sensors.”

EDI piped up.  “My presence in the casino would arouse suspicion.  Mechs are not allowed since they can have cheating software, even if I wore my mech’s synth skin.”

Ashley held up her hands.  “I can do infiltration, but not this kind of infiltration.  Sorry, but no.  You’ll need me for backup if things go south.”

Brooks looked at all of them. “What you need is somebody trained in zero-emissions tech.  No electronics, no metal.  Just undetectable polymers.  We had a course back at Op-Int, disabling a bomb with these little tweezers.  See, the bomb was filled with shaving cream…”

They didn’t have many options.  Regis, Kaidan, and Zaeed were all too large and filled with tech and would likely be the main ones on the field.  EDI and Tali were ruled out.  Same for Javik and Wrex.  Steve didn’t speak up during the meeting, but Regis wasn’t about to volunteer him.  Vik’s implants and enhancements to improve their skills as a surgeon also prevented them from doing it.  Wren’s running the operation.  

Looks like it has to be Brooks.  And Regis was hoping that wouldn’t be the case.

Regis met Brooks's gaze.  “All right.  You’re in.”

She stepped back.  “What?  No… What?!”

Regis gestured around him.  “You said it yourself.  We’ve all got too much tech.  And it’s too risky to bring anyone else in.”

“But… I managed to get shot just coming to talk to you!  Now I’m supposed to hack my way into a safe room?” Brooks replied, shaking her head.

“Getting shot was something no one would have planned for,” Kaidan offered.  “There was no way to know that the mercs were already after Regis.”

“Exactly,” Zaeed said with a nod.  “None of this is a typical situation and none of us have any goddamn options.”

She still looked hesitant, so Regis spoke up.  “I recall saying to you that this is my operation and you will be working under my orders.  Listen to our orders and focus.  You have a team backing you up.”

She let out a sigh and nodded.  Maybe this will teach her some confidence.

Or cause this whole operation to go down in flames.  

Wren clapped her hands together.  “Great!  Now that everything is settled, there is one last hurdle to get us inside.”

“Which is?” Regis prompted, raising an eyebrow. 

She grinned.  “Black tie required.”

“Oh hell yes,” Regis said, damn near cheering.  “It’s a good thing I didn’t waste my best suit on you, Moreau!”  Kaidan also looked pleased, but Zaeed started to frown, never quite enjoying looking nice.  

It took him no time at all after their wedding for him to start taking down his suit, leaving him in his button down while Regis and Kaidan stayed in their finery until that evening.

He’s going to enjoy dressing them all up to match and shutting up Zaeed’s bitching about the matter.

“I take so much offense to that,” he replied, shaking his head.  “Are we all going into the casino?  Or is it just these crazy lovebirds over here.”

“Small team.  So just those three and Brooks,” Wren replied, pulling up the tickets.  “The rest of us will say close, but outside, ready to react if need be.”

“When does it start?” Kaidan asked.  “How much time do we have?”

“It’s supposed to go on for the entire evening late into early morning, so we can get there at any time.  Fashionably late or just on time.  Doesn’t matter to me as long as we get inside,” Wren said.  “Now, let’s give our infiltration specialists time to get changed, shall we?”

WIth the meeting over, everyone dispersed, going back to hang out in the apartment, some deciding to leave to grab their gear so they’ll be ready to go if something happens.  Luckily, they all had spare versions of their preferred hardsuits lying around along with their main gear, so at a moment’s notice the triad can be prepared for anything.  

“Don’t take too long up there, boys,” Ashley said as she walked back to the couch.  

“You have nothing to worry about.  Regis is a goddamn tyrant when it comes to fashion,” Zaeed muttered, heading over to the stairs.  “I’m sure he’s scheming already.”

“I have an idea in mind,” Regis replied, walking up the stairs.  He stopped at the doorway, ensuring none of the nosy crew were within earshot.  “But you know you love it.  All three of us, matching on and off the battlefield, showing that I’m yours and you are mine. ”

“Don’t fret, love,” Kaidan said, wrapping an arm around Zaeed’s shoulders.  “Just think, afterwards we might be able to make that promise to Regis happen.  Except this time, it’s all of us.”

“And I’ll say it again: You aren’t going to ruin my damn suit,” he shot back, opening their closet to pull out three wrapped suits.  One with red detailing, one with blue detailing, and one with yellow detailing.  The human crew sometimes joked about them being the primary colors, but Regis didn’t care.  

All they cared about was looking damn good, and Regis ensured that both on and off the battlefield.  Fabrics made of strong synthetics, able to take a few hits if need be.  Able to tolerate light action.

And be ready for any format event that is thrown at them, like this.  

“A three piece?” Zaeed asked, slipping off the protective sleeve.  “Hmm.  Not bad.  When did you get these ordered?”

“A while back.  Wanted them for our anniversary… but I thought they would be great for this,” Regis said, running his hand down the fabric.  “What do you think?” he asked softly.

“Beautiful work,” Kaidan said.  “Can’t wait to see all of us in them, stealing the show.”

“And that’s the whole point,” Regis said, moving to kiss his cheek.  “Is it bad to say I’m actually looking forward to this?”

“Nah, I know you love showing us off,” Zaeed replied.  “Still doing okay?”

He nodded.  “Thanks, by the way.” “No need to thank me, baby.  Though I did panic a bit when you damn near went limp in my arms.  You needed the rest.  I only wish it was longer.”

“Me too.  I wanted to join the both of you,” Kaidan said, glancing over at the tub.  “Duty called and it still does.”

“It never stops,” Regis agreed.  “Hopefully we’ll get some time to ourselves after this.  We can’t be running this mission without stopping, and I want our apartment back.”

“I’m sure Vik and Ashley will ensure we get all the time we need to ourselves,” Zaeed said, starting to take off his clothes and put on the new suit.  “Or I will make sure of it.”

“You’ll hear no complaints from me, love,” Regis replied.  “Seeing you both out there…”

If he wasn’t covered in fish water, debris, and who knows what else, he would’ve shown his appreciation right then and there.  

“Love, your competency kink is showing,” Kaidan chuckled, moving over to the mirror to gel up his hair.  

“Can you blame me?”

“You know, there’s a reason why we chose those suits to wear…” Kaidan trailed off, heat behind his gaze.  

They continued to chat, recapping the events of earlier today and ensured they all had the details squared way before the event later tonight.

If it wasn’t soured by the threat over his head, Regis would loosen up, enjoy the evening as Regis Shepard-Massani-Alenko, giving interviews, press, and showing off his lovers.  Instead, he has to be careful to not draw any more attention than usual, and worry about the people around them, in case their assailant strikes while he’s vulnerable once more.  

Putting on the suit felt like putting on armor, immediately falling into his media presence persona.  How he wished he could be Regis at this moment, and not the ruthless Admiral.

But this time, he ensured he put the real rings on, the bands replacing the silicone ones that somehow survived the action of the day.  To his utter adoration, his husbands did the same, their commitments to each other shining in the light of their bedroom.

All ready for whatever comes next.  A casino heist at a charity event… if Regis knew where Kasumi was, she would be utterly delighted.

Just another day for Regis and his crew.