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prairiesongserial · 2 years ago

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20.2

Friday wandered down the deck of the ship, her gauzy dress whipping in the wind. She twisted her string of fake pearls around her finger. Their first full day aboard the Demeter was coming to an end, and it couldn’t have gone better.

The level of wealth on display here was really something else; these people were in a class of their own. Friday had only briefly brushed against this kind of money at the Hemisphere Gala, and she found it was almost impossible to imitate. Every other sentence laid a trap to test her knowledge of other wealthy people that she should know and parties she should have been invited to. But Friday had managed to find her angle. She was playing nouveau riche–it excused some errors and explained her outgoing approach.

Despite themselves, the circle she’d been talking with last night and this afternoon had taken to her pretty well; they would humor her until the Demeter made port in Canada, if only for a little entertainment. Val was doing an exceptional job playing the disinterested husband, and all Friday had to do was be herself.

She’d excused herself to powder her nose, hoping that Val would follow her a few minutes behind. She’d been telling some fairly rude stories in which he, as her husband, was a key figure. She’d gone a little over the top with the last one–he should feel compelled to come out and give her a hard time, if nothing else.

Friday slowed her pace, eventually coming to a stop by the railing. Water made her a little nervous after her dunking in the Hudson River, but the ocean was really something else, especially with twilight reflecting off the glass-like surface. And the ocean spray felt good after spending so long in the warm lounge.

Friday’s hands were nervous–she had to consciously keep them still and serene. The longer she waited by the railing, the more sure she was that Val wasn’t coming.

It wasn’t like him at all. This was the man who Friday had known to lock himself in the bathroom at the Ace of Spades after a mere twenty minutes at the bar. He should be hiding in their cabin, letting Friday act for the both of them. Which was another reason why she’d hoped he would come and find her on the deck. She wanted to gently encourage him to come down with the flu. She could handle this one.

Last night–their first night on the Demeter–Val had never come back to their cabin. He had elected to stay behind when Friday had announced her exit. And for what? No one needed him to be up this late. For once in their lives, all they needed to do was pass through. There was no Hemisphere, no battle to fight, just tea and small talk–all Val had to do was lay low for a couple of days before they disembarked in Canada. John and Cody had gotten the idea, barely showing up for meals before disappearing again, so why not Val?

Last night, Friday had waited up for him for hours, pacing in front of the bed. When Val still hadn’t come back after three in the morning, Friday had crept back to the lounge, expecting to find him asleep in an armchair. Instead, she’d found Val losing at chess against Casimir Brus, a quiet man she hadn’t been able to get a good read on yet.

The rest of the company had shrunk down to six, including the first mate, who appeared to be only just hanging on. It was curious to find her here, sitting up with the passengers. She might be more interesting than Friday had thought. At some point everyone had switched to alcohol, and Val nursed a gin and tonic which was mostly melted ice.

Friday had swallowed her surprise and meandered past the rest of the late night crowd to the chess match, the satin robe she’d thrown over her nightgown hanging loosely enough to show the top of her chest. All eyes had followed her across the room, curious to see what she would do.

“I’m glad to see you aren’t gambling, darling,” she said, landing behind Val. She leaned forward, as if to better inspect the game, pressing the bare part of her chest against the back of his shoulder–an instruction to the rest of the room on how to read the situation. “You know you’re worse at cards than you are at chess.”

“Mm,” Val said. He took another sip of his drink with a hint of a grimace.

Friday sighed lightly behind his ear.

“I’m going to get a cup of tea,” she said. “Would you like anything?”

Val took his move, and Mr. Brus immediately took one of Val’s rooks.

“No, thank you,” Val said.

Friday felt a spike of annoyance, but kept her face placid. She leaned in to kiss him, but stopped short over his ear.

“Don’t stay up too late,” she whispered. The eyes that had been curiously boring into her back suddenly found something else to look at. Their first night, and Friday had been forced to invoke marital problems. But if Val would just come away and let her talk to him…

As she’d turned away from the chess game, the first mate’s eyes had caught hers for a moment.

“Mrs. Lecter, do you know your way to the dining room?” The first mate, Ms. Écuyer said, standing. She had removed the jacket of her uniform, and her tie was draped over her neck un-tied. “Let me walk with you. My cabin is in that direction anyway.”

Friday smiled at the truly brazen offer made right in front of her husband. She wanted to turn the first mate down, but she was already standing to go, and if Ms. Écuyer’s cabin was really in the same direction as the dining room, she would see if Friday passed by without stopping for her stupid cup of tea. Friday was really regretting coming looking for Val. Now she would have to put effort into a flirtation that would ultimately end in rejection–not that the first mate was bad to look at, but Friday wasn’t in the mood.

“I would hate to drag you away, Ms. Écuyer,” Friday said, drawing her robe closed a little more closely. “Enjoy the company for a while longer, I’ll be quite alright.”

Ms. Écuyer’s gaze wandered over to the chess game behind Friday. After a tense moment, she sat back down with a smile.

“Of course, Mrs. Lecter.”

Friday had returned to her cabin truly bewildered. She couldn’t begin to guess why Val would hole himself up in a room full of strangers so late into the night. Granted, he wasn’t doing well with how things had ended with the circus, but she couldn’t understand why he would want to put himself out of his element.

Unless, of course, it was Friday he was avoiding. She’d next seen Val over breakfast, and it was clear that he’d snuck back into their cabin early to change and tidy up. He’d gotten himself a stack of pancakes and upended a small pitcher of syrup over them. Then he’d wandered into a game of shuffleboard, before finally depositing himself back in the lounge for the afternoon. Not once could she catch him alone.

Friday sighed and released her grip on the ship’s railing. She had better return to the lounge, maybe see if she could tempt Val away to the dining room with her. It was already after seven; he had to eat dinner sometime.

“Mrs. Lecter.”

Friday turned her head. The first mate stood with her hands formally held behind her back–a big difference from her casual attitude when she’d looped an arm around Friday’s shoulders at tea that afternoon. Every part of her from her hairstyle to her smile were subdued and professional.

“Friday’s fine,” she said, smiling invitingly. “What can I do for you, Ms. Écuyer?”

The first mate’s smile faded.

“Tomorrow morning, we drop anchor in Newfoundland,” she said. “It’s our last stop to resupply.”

Friday wasn’t familiar with the islands between Maine and Canada, so she nodded politely. She didn’t want to let her lack of education show.

“And then how long before we reach the mainland?” she asked.

Ms. Écuyer stepped up beside her and draped her arms over the railing. She was close enough that Friday’s dress billowed against the slacks of her uniform.

“Passengers aren’t to disembark in Newfoundland, but I could let you off the ship,” Ms. Écuyer said. “You and your husband. The stop will be brief, owing to the tides. By six in the morning, we’ll be back at sea, so you’ll have to meet me outside my cabin no later than five.”

Friday felt a sudden coldness creeping up her spine.

“Why would my husband and I want to disembark before we reach the mainland?” she asked. She watched Ms. Écuyer closely, but the first mate betrayed nothing in her face. Had Val said something last night that had revealed them as frauds? If that was the case, maybe the first mate was trying to get them safely off the ship before they suffered the consequences. Or was this a trap? If Friday took Ms. Écuyer up on the offer of early departure, wouldn’t that tip off the rest of the ship that something wasn’t right with the Lecters?

“It’s the last stop,” Ms. Écuyer repeated. “That’s all I’m saying, Mrs. Lecter. Friday.”

She excused herself, returning not to the lounge, but through another door to a different part of the ship.

Friday let out a hiss of breath, too quiet even for her to hear over the slosh of the ocean against the side of the ship. If there had been any question as to how she would be spending the rest of her evening, she had her answer.

20.1 || 20.3

#story

6 notes · View notes

silkling · 3 years ago

Note

Could you please write a crossover of Rescue Bots and TFP? Rather than dying on the Nemesis, a critically injured Dreadwing fleas and crash lands on Griffin Rock. The Rescue Bots find him and nurse him back to health, not realizing he’s a Decepticon because his markings got scratched up in the fight. Dreadwing wakes up while the Rescue Bots are trying to contact Team Prime, but can’t since, unbeknownst to them, they’re all on Cybertron, fighting the Cons for the Omega Keys and Omega Lock.

So, this one turned out to be much, much longer than I thought. So long, in fact, that I had to divide it into three posts. The second post will be linked at the bottom of this one, and the third will be linked at the bottom of the second. Dear god, apparently I had a lot of more thoughts about Rescue Bots than even I was aware of. Oh well. Either way, I hope everyone enjoys! (FYI: most prompt fills will not be this long. This one was just so long cause I have many emotions and ideas about this scenario.)

———————————————————————————————————

Dreadwing felt the betrayal of Lord Megatron as surely as if it were just as physical a wound as the hole blown through his chest. He had heard the weapon powering up, and his war-forged battle instincts had had him diving to the side just as the fusion canon had fired. It has still torn though his chest, but rather than destroy his spark chamber the blast had torn a hole straight through the right side of his chest near his shoulder. He lived yet, but if he could not escape the Nemesis that would not be the case for much longer.

He had served Lord Megatron with loyalty and honor for millennia, ever since he and his brother had joined the Decepticons after Vos had fallen. Dreadwing had sold his very spark to the Unmaker to act on the wishes and orders of his leader, and this is what his loyalty had earned him? Megatron attempting to offline him, and protecting the mech who had desecrated his brother? The same mech who had, countless times before, betrayed Megatron himself? Dreadwing could scarcely understand it. Why would Megatron spare Starscream, who had given the warlord no true loyalty, when Dreadwing himself had been nothing but loyal? Is this what his loyalty bought him, among the Decepticons? Dishonorably killed solely for attempting to avenge his brother by killing a traitorous coward?

If so, he wanted nothing to do with it.

He dragged himself down the halls, finally making it to the flight deck, and looked down to see the ship flying above the ocean. Rather than attempt a proper take off, he simply pitched his body forward off the edge and allowed himself to fall. As he neared the water, he forced a transformation, ignoring the agony of the action, and his engine roared to life. Lucid thought slipped away, then, as baser survival coding took over and guided him away from the warship, away from danger, away from what would have been his death.

Only one thing was certain, now.

In attacking Dreadwing to protect Starscream, Megatron had lost the loyalty of his most devoted frontline warrior.

Dreadwing simply refused to follow a mech who would protect the one who desecrated his brother.

And so, survival protocols overriding every other thought or higher system, the large Seeker allowed his higher processor functions to shut off. His mind quieted to blissful silence. Instinct alone drove him forward, flying towards a destination even he did not know. He could only hope it would be somewhere safe.

——————————

Blades didn’t know what he was expecting when he went on a walk along the beach, but it most certainly wasn’t a large Cybertronian lying in in the sand, looking like he’d crashed landed and resting lifeless on patch of sand soaked with energon. Technically, the copter wasn’t even supposed to be out here, as Sigma-17 had to maintain their cover, but everything at the firehouse had just been several kinds of too much that morning, so he had, for once, flown off on his own and landed on a beach he knew no humans ever really came to, intent to just take a walk and clear his head.

Except, upon coming around a bend, he’d found the aforementioned Cybertronian. For a moment, he’d simply frozen, but then the instinct ingrained by his training kicked in and he sprung into action. See, Blades was a trained and licensed triage medic. He couldn’t perform complex surgeries or anything on the level of a proper medic, but in the Rescue Academy on Cybertron he’d taken the courses for field level medical aid so that, if he’d ever run into someone during a rescue who’d been hurt, he could treat them and keep them alive until they could get to a medical facility. The training g had been fun, especially when he’d studied with-

He shook his head roughly before that thought could complete itself. He didn’t want to think about the time….Before. It hurt, remembering what and who he’d lost during his millennia of stasis. Before he could fall back into grief, training snapped back into place and his processor quieted. He knelt next to the fallen Cybertronian, noting that they were a Seeker frame, and carefully turned the bot over. His next thought was an observation that the bot was a mech, and that the energon soaking into the sand under his frame was spilling from a large hole torn straight through his chest. That meant the first thing he needed to do was seal the leaking lines to keep him from losing more energon. After that, he could call Heatwave. He didn’t have the skills to patch this wound up fully. Once he’d made sure this mech wouldn’t die here and now, he would need to get him to proper care. One of the stasis pods would certainly help, though if they wanted the wound healed fully he’d need to be in the pod for a while. The other alternative was contacting Optimus. Blades knew the Prime had a proper medic on his team, which might be the better option.

As his processor raced, trying to think of a plan, his hands worked on autopilot. He slipped the tools he needed from his subspace, cleaning and removing grime where it was needed to prevent infection, removing bits of sand and stone from the wound, and using a small welder to seal off the free-flowing energon lines. He covered loose, sparking wires and circuits, , rerouting a few of them in places where it was needed. Finally, after many long minutes, he finished and sat back on his heels.

It was then the helicopter realized his comm. was pinging with an alert for an incoming message, and had been for quite some time. In fact, it seemed he’d missed several messages. From Heatwave, Chase, Boulder, Dani, the Chief, Cody…Pit, even Graham had sent him a message. Embarrassment and guilt settled heavy in his chest, and he lifted his hand to his audial to accept the current call. As soon as his comm. clicked to life, Dani’s voice was coming through it.

“Blades! Finally! Where are you? We’ve all been worried sick, you know.” his partner scolded. Blades couldn’t help the small smile that twisted his lips upwards. It was nice knowing she cared. He loved Dani dearly. She was family, after all. “You know you’re not supposed to even be out of the firehouse on your own, you idiot bot!” she continued, her voice holding an undercurrent of worry despite the insult. Blades didn’t take it personally. “What if someone had seen you? You need to-“

And now that was enough. “Dani.” he interrupted her, his voice uncharacteristically serious. “I’m sorry for ignoring you and everyone else, but right now there’s a bigger emergency than me risking our cover. I found an inured bot on that small beach behind the mountain. You know, the one no one likes to go to because the hike is too long? He’s in a really bad way. I have triage training, and I’ve patched him up, but he needs either a stasis pod or a proper medic, as close to immediately as possible.”

There was silence on the other end, before-

“Alright. I’ll tell everyone to come to your location. I’m with Dad and Chase right now. We all split up to look for you, but we’ll meet you there. Don’t move, and keep the bot alive.” Dani instructed. Despite himself, Blades was smiling again. Yes, he really did love Dani. She knew when it was time to get serious. He had a feeling he’d be forgiven for his blunder today, given the circumstances.

“Will do. I’ll see you soon.”

“Just hang tight, partner. And stay out of trouble.”

“You too.” he chirped, hands still working over the bot to patch up his more minor wounds now that the life-threatening one was dealt with. “And Dani?”

“Yeah, Blades?”

“I’m sorry for worrying you.”

There was a beat of silence, and then her voice came though, softer and fonder.

“Don’t worry about it. You did the right thing.”

Then the comm. line cut off, and Blades was left alone to in the silence. He let his processor drift, kneeling in the energon soaked sand as he worked on saving the life of a bot whose name he didn’t even know.

——————————

Chase was worried. He knew Blades was more capable than the others thought he was, but that didn’t stop him from worrying. He hadn’t been surprised when the copter bot had left the firehouse that morning. He’d seen the way he had held his rotors tight to his spinal strut, seen the way he’d fidgeted around the others, seen the way his optics had slipped and gone dull and distant. He knew today was not a good day for Blades, so his disappearance had not been a surprise. He’d been mildly concerned, simply because he did not know if Blades would be able to avoid being seen in his more distracted state, but he hadn’t been too worried. Still, when Heatwave had insisted on going to track down their rogue teammate, he hadn’t protested. He’d even offered to let Dani ride with him and the Chief to make things simpler.

But then Blades had finally picked up Dani’s comm. and that was when he started to worry. A strange bot, found injured on Griffin Rock? It raised many questions. Where had they come from? Who where they? How had they been injured? Chase wasn’t worried that the bot would die. He knew Blades had triage training, so he was confident his teammate would be able to keep his unexpected patient alive. Even so, this new development raised many questions that Chase did not have the answers to, and that was what worried him. There were not many Cybertronians on Earth, he knew. Aside from Sigma-17, there was Team Prime, and….the Decepticons. As far as Chase was aware, and he admittedly did not know as much as he would like, there were no unaligned bots on the planet.

Which meant this newcomer was either one of Prime’s team, a Decepticon, or he had crash landed on the island from space and wasn’t attached to either faction. It would be easy enough to confirm; they simply had to contact Prime and ask if he was missing a teammate, and if not ask if he recognized the bot in question. If this stranger was a neutral party or an Autobot, Chase knew there would be nothing to worry about. But if they were a Decepticon…well, that was the root of the police bot’s concerns. Sigma-17 was a rescue team. They knew rudimentary combat skills, enough to defend themselves or those they were rescuing in an emergency, but they were non-combatants. By the standards of the War, his team would be classified as civilians. If this new Cybertronian was a Decepticon…Chase wasn’t sure they’d be able to protect Griffin Rock, this time. He wasn’t sure they’d even be able to protect themselves.

Before he could slip even further into his own processor, they arrived at the coordinates Blades had sent. His snapped into focus, his doors popping open to allow his passengers out, and then he was transforming and walking over to where he could see Blades. As he approached his friend, he heard Boulder and Heatwave pull up behind him and transform. Blades looked up from his work when his three teammates stopped next to him, and Chase was mildly disconcerted to see the amount of energon soaking the sand and coating the copter’s hands.

“Blades, what happened?” Heatwave demanded, voice rough.

“I don’t know.” he shrugged helplessly. “I came out here for some space and to take a walk, cause I know this beach is practically abandoned, and I just found him like this.”

Indeed, this close, Chase could see that the mystery bot was in fact a mech. That answered one question, but none of the others. How irritating. It was also making him very nervous and queasy to see just how badly injured the very, very large bot was. Boulder too, seemed to feel ill at the sight of such horrible wounds and so much energon. Distantly, Chase noted that the bot might be even bigger than High Tide. He had no idea how they were supposed to get him back to the firehouse.

Heatave made a frustrated noise, clearly displeased with the lack of information though he knew Blades was not to blame. “Well can you tell how he got so injured?”

“A weapon of some sort, though not one I’ve ever seen the damage of before.” Blades said, frowning. His processor was clearly working hard, trying to turn over the facts he knew to figure out the bigger picture. “There’s also signs of older damage. I can’t be 100% sure, but I think this bot is, or maybe was, involved in the War.”

Heatwave paused, seeming more wary with this new information. “…can you tell which side?”

“No. Any faction identifier or badge has been destroyed or scraped off like most of his paint. I can only just figure out what his colors are supposed to be, and even them only barely.”

Chase could tell that Heatwave was annoyed, but the fire truck only grumbled his curses under his breath before sighing. “Alright. What do we need to do?”

Blades startled, looking surprised. “You’re asking me?”

“Of course.” Chase cut in before Heatwave could snap something rude and further stress the already clearly frazzled helicopter. “You are the triage medic here. Protocol dictates that, in the absence of a full medic, any medical decisions would fall to the next available medical expert. In this case, that would be you.”

Blades blinked a few times, before shaking himself and sitting up straighter. “Like I said earlier, he needs a stasis pod. Badly. I don’t have the ability to fix him completely, my training only covered keeping patients alive until they could get to someone who could repair them fully. The only one on planet I know who might be able to help is Optimus’s medic. He can also heal completely in one of our stasis pods, but it would take longer than just asking Optimus for help.”

Heatwave grunted. “Got it. He needs a stasis pod now, and a medic later. We can do that.”

That seemed to be enough to startle Boulder into awareness, and the bulldozer jumped before nodding and turning to Heatwave. “Graham and I can figure out a way to transport him safely. Though we’ll need your help, Blades. You have a better understanding of his condition than us.”

The copter nodded, and Chase let that be his que to retreat to back to where the humans were waiting. Apparently, they didn’t want to get too close in case their presence caused an issue with the unknown bot’s care.

“Well?” Chief asked. “How’s our newest guest?

“Unwell.” Chase said succinctly. “He is severely injured and appears to be involved in the War in some fashion, though it is impossible to tell for which side. We are going to transport him to the firehouse in order to put him into a stasis pod so that he may heal. Graham, I believe Boulder requires your assistance in that respect.” he said, directing the last part to the engineer.

Graham nodded, making no protest as he jogged forward towards his partner, Boulder already turning and crouching to begin discussing plans. Dani followed him quickly, though she split from his path to join Blades, clambering up onto his leg and patting his canopy as she shot him a reassuring smile.

It was here that Kade made his own opinion known. “Hey hey hey, let’s slow down!” he protested. “You just said you don’t know what side this guy’s on, and you want to bring him back home? We can’t do that! Why can’t Blades just fix him here and we can send him on his way?”

Chase tilted his head. “Blades is a licensed triage medic. He does not have the training necessary to fully repair him. Besides, even if he did, I do not believe it would be wise to simply ‘send him on his way’, and you said. If he truly is a Decepticon, then doing so would risk leading the entirety of the Decepticon army right here to Griffin Rock.”

Kade froze, seeming suddenly queasy. “Oh.”

Chief sighed. “Fair point, partner. I agree we can’t just leave him or let him die. It wouldn’t be right, even if he isn’t on our side. But for safety’s sake, would it be possible to keep him unconscious until we can confirm his identity with Optimus?”

Chase nodded. “Indeed, Chief. I believe that is the current plan. As soon as he is safely in a stasis pod, we will attempt to contact Optimus. With luck, we can have this matter sorted by the end of today.”

“Good.” Chief smiled. “Then let’s get to work.”

“Agreed.”

Chase returned to his team, Chief and Kade following at his heel, to find they had come up with a plan to transport the unknown Cybertronian. Working together, the rescue team was able to get the large flight-frame settled into a make-shift trailer the engineer duo had thrown together, and after hitching it to Boulder’s vehicle mode the whole group made their way to the firehouse using the tunnels in order to avoid being seen. Barring Blades, of course, who instead flew straight to base with Dani in order to prepare a stasis pod.

By the time Chase and the others arrived, the pod was set up and open to admit the unknown mech. It took all four of Sigma-17 working together to lift him into it, but then the glass door was sliding shut and frost soon hid the bot from view as the stasis function of the pod took affect. Now, all that was left was for Blades to clean himself up, and for Heatwave to contact Optimus about their guest.

Chase just hoped this development didn’t come back to bite them.

——————————

Dreadwing woke to the hiss of an unfamiliar system disengaging and onlined his optics to see icy mist billowing to the floor as a glass door slid up from in front of him. A stasis pod? That was odd. The Nemesis had no stasis pods and he knew the Autobots did not have the means to maintain or build one either. He was also not aware there were any other Cybertronians on the planet. So where was he, and how had he gotten into a stasis pod? The last thing he remembered was fleeing the Nemesis, although….he did have very vague, hazy memories of a crash. Had he been discovered and saved before he could offline? If so, he would have to thank his unexpected savior. Unless, of course, it was an Autobot and he had only been saved so he could be locked away. If that was the case, a bot was going to die here today and it would not be him.

The stasis pod fully disengaged from him, and he was able to step out and onto the floor. He glanced down at himself, humming idly. It seemed that he had been fully repaired either before or while in the pod. That was good for him. He looked around, frowning at his odd surroundings. The location he was in had medical supplies, but was clearly no full medical bay. Perhaps it was only set up for emergencies, then? His wings twitched when he picked up the sound of pede steps beyond the doorway, and his gaze turned towards the sound. After a moment, he realized whoever it was wasn’t coming towards him, but rather they seemed to be…pacing? Yes, that is what it sounded like. Curiosity piqued, Dreadwing strode towards the door, making sure his own steps were quiet so as not to alert the other to his presence. He stepped though, looking around…and his optics blew wide.

It was a youngling. A small, orange and white helicopter bot was pacing back and forth in tight circles in the center of the room. Dreadwing was willing to bet that this little flyer was even younger than the Autobot scout. As the mechling turned to pace in another circle, the Seeker caught sight of the emblem on his chest. At first, he saw only a badge similar to the Autobot brand and his frame began to stiffen. Then the rest of the badge processed in his mind and his vents froze.

The Rescue Bot insignia.

This tiny little flying mechling was a Rescue Bot. But how? Megatron had seen to the destruction of the Rescue Bot headquarters in the early days of the war, and had sent his soldiers to systematically hunt down and offline any who had survived the initial attack or had not been present during it. Dreadwing and his brother had joined the Decepticons after massacre, but it was one the only acts the Decepticons had committed that they had wholly disapproved off. The Rescue Bots had been unaffiliated with any faction. They took an oath of neutrality, a vow to save any and every life they could regardless who who or what that life was. Megatron had wanted them gone because he’d wanted to make a statement, but also because he wanted to deny the Autobots any potential allies or any aid that the Rescue Bots would have given them.

It had been a great loss, and had been one of the reasons Dreadwing had initially wished to avoid choosing one side or the other. The Decepticons, in his mind, took things too far. The Autobots, while more restrained, had initially risen from the regime in which he and his brother had suffered under. But then….Vos had fallen, and word had spread that his city’s destruction had been the doing of the Autobots. He and Skyquake had been forced to pick a side, then. He’d gotten over his hesitance at the Decepticon methods and given Lord Megatron his undying loyalty. And now…he was here, betrayed by the one who he as sworn himself to, watching a youngling Rescue Bot pace in nervous circles. It was something that should have been impossible.

Suddenly, the mechling froze, and wide amber optics turned to him. Idly, Dreadwing realized he must have made some noise, and then the little copter was yelping and scrabbling back. He paused, then hurried forward, his hands fluttering as if unsure what to do. Before the little one got too close, Dreadwing locked his own sharp, red optics onto him, and the bot froze in place with a startled yip.

For a long moment, there was only silent staring.

——————————

Blades was pacing. There wasn’t much else he could do. The day they had brought back the large Seeker, Heatwave had contacted Optimus. Only, the Prime had very quickly shut him down, explaining they were busy with an issue of “upmost importance” and that he would return their contact when he was able to. That had been three weeks ago, and he hadn’t called back. The Seeker was still in stasis, and Heatwave was once against attempting to make contact, for the 15th day in a row. Chase and the Chief were on patrol, and Boulder and the other humans were at Blossom Vale, having a picnic. Blades had opted to remain behind, wanting to keep an eye on the Seeker.

In the time since finding the large mech, Blades had done some research. He’d had to dig around the Sigma’s files, and dig through the files of the computer that connected them to Optimus, as well as dig through the various data-pads that had been left to them by High Tide and Optimus. It wasn’t much, but it was enough that he’d been able to piece together information about the War that the Prime hadn’t been telling them. Now, Blades understood why the War had started. The civil unrest had been a thing even before Sigma-17 had been formed, when he was still in the early days of training, it had been mild, then, but it had been there. So he wasn’t surprised that it had grown worse, especially if the root causes of the unrest hadn’t ever been addressed.

He also knew, from the information he’d dug up in his search, that after the fall of Vos, most Seekers had joined the Decepticons. Which meant that his patient was, in all likelihood, a Decepticon himself. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that. But he hadn’t told the others his suspicions. Mostly because…something about the situation was odd. Optimus didn’t strike him as the type of mech who would inflict or approve of that type of wound being inflicted on a mech. So unless he had someone on his team who was excessively violent and he couldn’t control, Blades didn’t see that wound coming from the Autobots. Which meant it had come from the Decepticons. Of course, that only raised more questions. Namely, why would they do that to one of their own, if the mech really was a ‘Con? He wanted to get answers before he shared his suspicions. He didn’t want to condemn the Seeker to anything bad if he was wrong.

Unfortunately, that hadn’t been all he had learned, in the past few weeks. In one of the data pads High Tide had left about the early days of the war, there had been a mention of the “end of the Rescue Force”. It had just been a mention, a reference to an event that was probably detailed in a separate data pad. But he hadn’t ever found that separate data pad. And when he remembered What Optimus had said, when he’d first found them..”

“I was not aware Rescue Teams were…still active.”

He’d said it slowly, haltingly, as if choosing the words carefully. He’d paused before saying the last part too. At the time, Blades hadn’t thought much of it. But with the information about the War Optimus had allowed them to have, and the mention of the “end of the Rescue Force” in that one data pad, well…Blades was starting to think that “active” had not been the word that the Prime had actually meant. Something had happened, something he didn’t have enough information to figure out yet, but the faint picture he was starting to get from the pieces of information he did have wasn’t one he liked. It was another reason he was hesitant to share what he suspected about the Seeker. Optimus was keeping vital information from Sigma-17. He didn’t care if the Prime didn’t want them fighting in the War. He agreed that it was a bad idea. But he was withholding information that Blades suspected his team would very much want, and they didn’t even know it.

So here he was, pacing restlessly as his processor turned over the information he got, unsure how or even if he should share it. Would his team even believe him? He doubted they would. He knew they thought he was silly and couldn’t understand complex ideas, but that was far from the truth. After all, of all the Rescue Bots he had the greatest understanding of human nature and culture. His understanding wasn’t always 100% accurate, and just because he understand the what didn’t mean he understand the why, but he still understood more than any of the others. And sure, he applied most of his ability to learn new information to pop culture rather than the things the others might consider more “worthwhile”, but that was only because pop culture was more fun. Plus, pop culture was where humanity really displayed they way they ticked. Did it really make him that much of an idiot if all that was the case?

He was startled from his spiraling thoughts by a sound from the direction of the make-shift medical bay. The copter glanced in that direction, thinking it was one of his teammates, only to yelp and leap back upon seeing the Seeker. He’d known the other bot was large, but seeing him awake and up just confirmed how large. The red optics too, made discomfort curl in Blade’s tanks. The data-pads had suggested that red optics were typical of Decepticons, though they shouldn’t be used as an identifier of such. Even so, it was another tick in favor of his theory. Then the scene caught up to him, and medical training overrode his temporary moment of panic.

This bot wasn’t supposed to be up yet. In fact, even if he had been fully healed by the pods it was supposed to keep him under until Optimus could arrive. Except….Blades must have put in the settings wrong. He was so used to setting the stasis pods to release once the healing process was complete that he must have input that setting without realizing it. Which…presented a problem. Is this mech was hostile, he didn’t think his team could handle it. Those thoughts circled in the back of his processor as he directed the bulk of his worry towards making sure his patient was alright. His hands flapped awkwardly as he approached the larger flyer, ready to skim over his frame to check out his condition, when piercing red optics locked onto him. He froze with a high pitched squeak, his own optics blown wide as that gaze pinned him in place.

For a long moment, the two Cybertronians merely stared at each other.

Then Blades, getting increasingly nervous, broke the silence. “Are you okay?” he asked, curling and tucking his hands against his canopy. “The stasis pod should have healed you completely, but you were hurt pretty bad. Even most of your paint was gone, though it looks like your color nanintes were able to fix that while you were healing.”

Indeed, the mech standing in front of him was now in full color, his purple and yellow paint bold and bright on his frame. It did seem, however, that he was still missing a faction brand. If he’d ever had one, of course, though the copter strongly suspected he did.

The Seeker seemed put off for a moment, as if he didn’t know why Blades was worried. “I am well.” he said carefully. “Are you the one who repaired me?”

“Well, sort of?” Blades’s rotors fluttered against his back. “I’m a triage medic, so I couldn’t fix you completely, but I kept you online until my team and I could get you into a pod.”

The Seeker narrowed his eyes. “Team?” he repeated, obviously suspicious.

Blades squeaked again, shoulders hunching. “We’re Rescue Bots.” he gestured at his insignia before his hands tucked back against his canopy. “Team Sigma-17. I’m Blades.”

The Seeker was silent for a long moment. “You may call me Dreadwing.” he said slowly. His gaze was still piercing.

Blades nodded, then took a few steps forward, and when Dreadwing made no move to stop him, he closed the gap between them. “Do you mind if I scan you over one last time? I just want to be sure all your systems are in order.”

The Seeker bowed his helm, and Blades lifted his hands to skim over plating, using his built in scanning systems he’d gotten in his triage training to check his patient over. Everything was coming back fine, but with a wound as serious as his had been Blades away taking no chances.

“You are a Rescue Bot.” Dreadwing spoke. His voice was low, and there was an odd note to it.

“Yep. Me, Boulder, Chase, and Heatwave. We crashed here a while ago and Prime stationed us on this island to act as a rescue team for the locals.” he explained distractedly.

Dreadwing made a soft hum. “Prime knows you are here? Are you Autobots, then?”

Blades frowned. “He knows. He visits, sometimes, but not often. We haven’t been able to contact him lately though.” He was too focused on his task to think about whether he should actually,be answering so freely. The second question gave him pause, though. “No? At least, not really? We’re a Rescue Team. Rescue Bots take oaths off non-affiliation. We can’t side with any particular group or individual since our job is to help any bot or being that needs it.” He was reading over the results of his scans, mouth turned down. “We’re more closely tied to the Autobots right now, but that mostly because we don’t know much of what happened with the war. We were in stasis until we crashed.” He let the readings flicker away, and froze when he realized how much he’d shared. “Uhhh….”

Dreadwing only snorted, actually looking fairly amused. “Yes, I think it is quite clear now that you are no warrior, little youngling.” he rumbled. His expression darkened. “I understand why Prime stationed you here, out of sight. Megatron would see you hunted and slaughtered if he knew a Rescue Team still functioned.”

This made Blades freeze, and as he recalled Optimus’s first words to them, and that data pad, dread began to build in his spark. “What?” he asked weakly.

Dreadwing stared. “You were not told?” he sounded…angry. “That is foolish. It is not a pleasant tale, but you should have been told if only to ensure you understand the importance of your existence remaining secret.”

Blades swallowed. “Optimus doesn’t really tell us much of anything about the War, and the data pads he leaves only really cover the basic and important bits, not the details.” he whispered. “Does…does Megatron wanting my team offlined have anything to do with the “end of the Rescue Force”? I read about it in one of the data pads, but it was just a mention. I couldn’t find any details other than that one phrase.”

Dreadwing’s gaze was solemn as the little bot lifted his optics to meet it. “Yes.” he said bluntly. “In the early days of the War, Megatron grew angry that the Rescue Bots aligned with no faction, and he wanted to deprive the Autobots of any who might aid or help them. He ordered the destruction of the Rescue Force. The Headquarters was destroyed, and all Rescue Bots present were massacred. Any who survived, and any who had not been present in the initial attack, were systematically hunted and slain.”

Blades’s knees felt weak. He pressed his hands to Dreadwing’s chest to steady himself, grateful that the larger flyer didn’t protest it. His rotors rattled madly against his back with his distress, and his optics were blown wide.

“But that would mean…”

“You and your team are the last Rescue Bots in existence. All the others are offline and have been for many, many millennia.”

The copter’s knees gave out, and Dreadwing was quick to grasp his frame to keep him from hitting the ground. A sharp keen left Blades’s vocalizer, and the Seeker blessedly said nothing and made no moves to push as the youngling processed the new information.

It was, of course, that moment that the others chose to return.

——————————

Part 2

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nevertheless-moving · 4 years ago

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Suicidal Misunderstanding XXIV

Part I - - - - - - - - - - Part XXI - - - - Part XXII - - - - Part XXIII

Star Wars Time Travel AU #27

Ahsoka watched normal space slip away with a numb sort of disbelief.

Somehow she couldn’t quite accept that her Masters would actually—she felt small and selfish to even think that this was them abandoning her, considering Obi-Wan’s life might—but still—she was rapidly exiting the inner-rim and Obi-Wan and Skyguy were...somewhere else. Even after breaking orbit, she had childishly half-expected one of them to jump out with a wild explanation of how the whole thing was a huge misunderstanding, or a crazy scheme—or—some kind of explanation. And now she was back in hyperspace, on her way back to the front, alone. Master Skywalker’s presences felt closed off, and far-away—she hadn’t even sensed Master Kenobi on Coruscant.

She hadn’t even gotten to see him...

She was startled out of her slowly sharpening melancholy by the sudden clasp of a hand on her shoulder.

“You alright there, Commander?” Rex asked softly. Ahsoka stiffened her spine. Right, Obi-Wan and Anakin hadn’t just disappeared on her—she wasn’t actually alone, and she had a duty to the men who were here.

“Just thinking about crushing some Clankers,” she replied over-brightly. “How’s the Resolute holding up?”

“Same hiccup with gravity in the kitchens during the jump—it seems they didn’t have time to actually fix the issue when we were in dock, but we were prepared for it so it wasn’t too messy,” Rex replied, hands falling into a loose grip behind his back as slipped into his ‘Captain Reporting’ voice. “A few odd issues with our communications systems, but I’ve got men on it; I’m told it’s nothing to worry about, and should be back to normal by tomorrow. I’ll let you know if anything changes.”

Ahsoka nodded. “And the troops?” she asked lightly.

Rex was silent for a moment. “Perhaps we should speak somewhere more private,” he responded finally.

“Of course.”

She followed him from the observation port to an unused briefing space a few decks down, cheerfully greeting each vod they passed, all of whom radiated relief at the sight of the familiar Jedi commander. Another pang of guilt passed through her. She should have already been greeting the men, not wallowing in self-pity. They knew even less than she did about their missing Generals. She had to be more of Jedi than usual, not less. What would Skyguy think of her moping? What would Master Kenobi—

She smiled at another passing group, one of whom she recognized as a Snow Wolf.

“Commander Tano!” he cried. “We had heard rumors—” Another soldier shut him up with an elbow to the gut.

Ahsoka smiled harder. “At ease, Mit,” she said, relieving him from his hasty salute. “I know there’s rumors flying around about, ah, General Skywalker’s and General Kenobi’s special assignment, but I’m sorry to say that you guys aren’t getting rid of me that easily.”

Mit and the others chuckled briefly at the admittedly weak joke.

“Rex and I have to be off now but It’s a long flight to the Expansion Zone; I’m sure I’ll see your faces again,” she said with a snappy two-fingered salute, striding off before they could work up the courage to ask any follow-up questions.

“As you were,” Rex ordered, and the Captain and Commander continued on their way.

Finally they stepped into the quiet room, door snapping shut. Ahsoka composed herself for a moment, plastering on a confident smile before turning to face Rex.

“What did you want to talk about, Captain?” she asked, falling backwards into a seat and looking up at the Captain with careful casualness.

Rex pulled off his helmet. His expression cracked Ahsoka in half.

“You don’t have to do that with me, Commander Tano. I know General Kenobi’s not on a mission,” he said quietly, voice as sad as his eyes. “Cody and I—and I think Waxer, we’re the only vode who’ve been read in on...what Kenobi tried to do.”

She looked away from that pitying, pitiful gaze, eyes suddenly burning.

“The last direct news I got was more than two days ago,” she finally said, giving up on the act and slumping forward as Rex set his helmet gently on the table. “Skyguy called me to ask a bunch of weird question and told me...you know. I felt Master Kenobi’s presence earlier this—kriff this was just this morning...” she trailed off.

“Language,” he corrected automatically. She chuckled wetly and absently pulled out a chair for him with a wave of her hand. He settled into it stiffly.

“I found out the night of,” Rex admitted. “They called Cody to ask about—about possible toxins. I think they were just searching for any kind of explanation. They let me visit him yesterday—”

Ahsoka hunched further and Rex paused for a moment before continuing awkwardly.

“It just looked like he was sleeping—healers said he was physically doing fine, so. I’m not a medic, but he’s definitely really well cared for.” Rex cleared his throat. “In terms of General Skwalker, I, uh, got a message from him the night before it happened about something completely unrelated, then nothing for three days, then a message before dawn this morning saying he had to ‘step down due to personal failures’ and he ‘trusted me to lead the 501st in his stead.’ Wrote that he needed to ‘earn his current rank.’”

Ahsoka’s head snapped up, intense focus charging the room. Rex let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair.

“I commed him right back, and he said that it was ‘partially about Obi-Wan, but more about past wrongdoing’. He apologized for abandoning me and the rest of the 501st, but told me he had to work on ‘his judgement’ before he could trust himself to act as General. The official memo about their temporarily absence from the command structure, for ‘undisclosed reasons’ came out about 5 minutes after we talked. Along with the promotion of Krell and General Tiin.”

“He messaged you this morning? He stepped down voluntarily?” she asked, feeling betrayed all-over again. “What the kriff?”

“Did he—he told me he was planning on comming you once you were closer to Coruscant...” he asked, looking at her hesitantly.

She let out a frustrated snarl, chair falling to the ground with a clatter as she began pacing the room. “Well he didn’t!” she ranted, attempting to stalk off her frustration. “Something more must have happened, and the council doesn’t want us to know what! What you saw on the loading dock was all the information anyone gave me! For all I know they’re both dead!”

Rex inhaled sharply and the padawan attempted to backtrack her words. “No, I don’t mean that, I can sense Skyguy he’s just—distant.”

“But you can’t sense General Kenobi,” he said grimly.

“I don’t have a direct training bond with him,” she replied severely. “And he’s good at shielding, and he’s usually—it’s not like he’s the loudest Jedi, you know?”

“You said you felt his presence this morning?” he pressed. “General Tiin and Krell did too, I think. Tiin seemed relieved at first but then—”

“He disappeared,” Ahsoka said quietly. “It’s like he reached out and then—it wasn’t even like letting go he just stopped.”

“Krell said he died,” the Captain reported matter-of-factly.

Ahsoka flinched. “There are—there’s other explanations. He might have just pulled up his shields really abruptly. It—I’m not saying it’s impossible, but I’ve felt Jedi die before and it doesn’t usually feel like that.”

Rex shifted awkwardly. The tortugan padawan paced back and forth, trying to release her helpless uncertainty into the force.

“Do you think it’s possible they might be on a special assignment?” he asked wearily. “I mean, it makes more sense in some ways that General Kenobi was just setting up some really intense cover for himself, and—and—General Skywalker got—accidentally wrapped up in it.”

Commander Tano rubbed her temples. “I wanted to think that too...I mean, it would be a pretty messed up choice of cover story, but...I really don’t think so” she said finally. “Skyguy was trying to put on a brave face when he talked to me but he was pretty—I’ve never seen him so destroyed—I mean getting shot down on the battlefield is one thing, but losing someone because—because you didn’t tell them how much you appreciated them, or because you added to their alright insane workload just through your presence—”

Suddenly Rex was in-front of her, chair scraped back and hands on her shoulders. “I’ve been through this was Cody, and I’ll go through it with you again as many times as it takes—you cannot blame yourself for this.”

She looked away. His hands tightened. “I’m serious,” he said emphatically. “I don’t know what’s going on, but you and Cody are the best of the best—if there was any warning sign to see, any enemy to fight, you would have identified it, fought back, won. I’m sorry, but the whole high council was surprised too, and they see him often enough! It’s—the whole situation’s kriffed up but it’s not your fault.”

“I know,” Ahsoka said quietly. “I’m sorry Skyguy stepped down on you—”

“That’s not your fault either—”

“Yeah, I know, you’re repeating yourself Captain—”

“Well, it’s hard to tell if you’re listening sometimes—”

Ahsoka gasped theatrically. “Is that anti-montral sentiment? I think it might be, after special Kamino sensitivity training too—”

“More like anti-anti-helmet sentiment. Seriously you’d think—”

“I’m a Jedi and I practice ataru. Armor would just—”

“—’slow you down’ I know, I know.”

Ahsoka giggled and the two of them found themselves wandering over to the small viewport, watching stars distort and stretch as they sped along the hyperlane.

“Have you—are you familiar with Krell?” Rex eventually asked.

“Not really,” Ahsoka admitted, wrinkling her brow. “I know he’s a pretty talented duelist—he’s got his own four armed Jar’kai style that’s apparently almost impossible to do anything against, but I’ve never actually gotten to see it in action—I don’t remember him hanging around the temple much growing up, and I’m not really certain where he’s been stationed during the war. I guess Master Windu assigned me to 501st duties so specifically so I wouldn’t bother him too much for sparring practice while he’s figuring out his duties? What’s your read on him?”

Rex radiated discomfort and Ahsoka eyed him cautiously.

“I haven’t—seen him on the battlefield. I’m sure he’s very capable. He’s not the most...respectful Jedi I’ve met.”

Ahskoa smirked. “Well, that shouldn’t be too much of a problem, right? If he gets the job done? I mean once you got a jetpack you made it your personal mission to throw Anakin of a cliff as often as possible! And Kix stole all of Anakin’s pants after he kept escaping bacta and messing up Medical.”

“I don’t mean respectful like that, Commander,” Rex said quietly.

“What do you mean, then?” she asked, feeling a prickle of unease.

“It’s nothing to worry about right now, but I’d—appreciate if we could talk about your...impression after our limpet meeting with the Negotiator tomorrow morning.”

“Of course, Captain. We’re—we’re in this together, right?” Ashoka replied hesitantly. For the first time that conversation, she reached out to him, softly placing a hand on his arm and desperately trying to press her tangled feelings of friendship, loyalty, and gratitude through the force.

Rex smiled, seeming to get the message. “Yeah Commander,” he responded hoarsely. “We’re in it this together.”

Part XXV

#star wars #star wars au #ahsoka tano #captain rex #star wars fanfiction #my au #suicidal misunderstanding au #star wars au no 27

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bastardpacs · 3 years ago

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A Theory on Malakai Black I.I The Carnival Mask

tommyend:... Carnival mask sits there for 2 reasons.. 2 faces as you will: Who is Janus, or more who are they?

Please forgive me guys, I had to come back to the Carnival mask djdj I just couldn't leave it unfinished jdksk OTL 😓

I definitely wanted to keep exploring more of his promo and new cycle, especially on Janus his faces, but I felt so bad with how long my last post was, so I'm going to try and just focus on the Carnival mask djsks

Between the tarot cards and the Carnival mask itself, there were two things that immediately popped into my head: the Jester and the Fool.

The Fool is another tarot card, showing a man unknowingly or uncaringly about to walk off a cliff; the man, who, is sometimes depicted in a Jester's costume. The Fool tarot card is the first in the tarot deck, and is meant to represent the beginning of a journey, of an entirely new cycle in our life, and the child-like optimism that comes with that.

Again showing the imagery and idea of transition and change, the Fool is almost, in a way, a card of shedding everything from our previous life, and the first step into a new beginning, one with potentially heavy divine auspices. All sort of callbacks, in a way, to the idea of death/rebirth imagery, and the start of entirely new cycles.

The other face of what the Fool can represent is something of a dark parallel to its meaning. Like Cody, the Fool is oblivious to what is happening around him and living in a world of his own. A reversed Fool card can represent a hesitation to a new cycle and passivity to change, and this is interesting considering how much Cody is fighting the change we see in him.

'Obsolete. Outdated. Getting to the point where it's almost sinful, that he's still trying to be who he is.' Malakai said in his promo before their first match.

Cody continues to hold onto this idealization of himself and remains blind to what is going on around him. He continues to live in and portray this perfect image and world, while on the outside, the crowds continue to turn against him, Cody himself becoming more and more violent. We saw the culmination of this with the lines he crossed in order to finally defeat Malakai in their third match... before his violent reality came crashing in on him in the form of a fan throwing Cody's belt back to him, like the first rocks shook loose before the coming cliff fall.

Now the Jester mask itself is from the celebration of Carnival, where a lot of the masks go hand in hand with Italian theatre. The Venice Carnival itself has a very rich history, one where people were, beginning at the end of December, allowed to wear masks on the streets of Venice. Using them to both become and hide.

And the thing I can't shake is the Jester's connection to Poe's Cask of Amontillado. Fortunato ("the fortunate one", a very metaphorical name) is wearing a Jester's costume when he was immured by Montresor. Montresor himself wore a black cloak and mask... the reason for this being to remain inconspicuous in the joyous and loud streets during Carnival. A shadow to Fortunato's brightness and showiness. The other reason - to the reader - was to show Montresor as an outsider, unbeholden to Venice.

Montresor himself was, in a way, punishment embodied against Fortunato, whose gaudy costume covered a cruelty and darkness within him.

But what is just as interesting is Montresor's coat of arms: a foot trampling a snake whose fangs are sunk into the heel, with the motto: nemo me impune lacessit - "no one attacks me with impunity". The snake a neat hail back to two moments: Jake the Snake, who was one of the first to condemn Cody as Caesar, and Malakai's image of a snake biting a hand ("all the fakes are snakes").

A mask is something we conceal ourselves behind, to either become or to cover or hide something within us. And, like the two faces of the Fool, while we see Malakai's becoming, we see something far different happening with Cody, who continues to hide within and behind a mask of his own making.

#malakai black #tommy end #wrestling thoughts #i am in LOVE with that featureless black mask!#it's so unsettling #and I think it may be the one from his first promo?#honestly i just really wanted an excuse to post that mask picture djksks 😓#it was such an amazing shot #but thank you for dealing with me again guys!

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saadiestuff · 3 years ago

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SPOILERS: Animal Kingdom s5

Episode descriptions for the ENTIRE REST OF THE SEASON

(TNT made the pages for all the eps so if you know the ep # and title you can get to them oop)

5x02 What Remains - As Pope deals with Smurf's remains, Craig and Renn balance their old lives with being new parents. J finds a new job through an old contact, and Deran can't outrun his past with Adrian.

5x03 Freeride - J's business secrets come to light as Pope mourns the loss of Smurf. Deran distracts himself from his own loneliness. Craig and Renn struggle to find work-life balance.

~click KEEP READING for the rest through 5x13~

5x04 ??? (I couldn’t find the title of the ep so couldn’t get it)

5x05 Family Business - As Deran and J compete for control of the family, Pamela presents the Codys with a risky proposition. Pope processes an additional loss by exploding in violence and Craig does business with Frankie.

5x06 Home Sweet Home - Tensions rise as Deran, J, and Craig do a job that risks everything the family has. Pope goes to the desert trying to outrun his grief.

5x07 Splinter - Pope confronts his demons with the help of a desert guru. Deran marks his territory as J handles business. Craig struggles with the demands of fatherhood and the temptations of his old life.

5x08 Gladiators - Pope helps a new friend. Deran, J, and Craig deal with the fallout from past mistakes as they make new friends and enemies.

5x09 Let It Ride - Local law enforcement turn up the heat on the Codys, as further secrets threaten to destabilize the family. Deran gets some news about Adrian. Craig discovers Renn has been keeping a secret.

5x10 Relentless - Desperate for cash, and with pressure mounting, the Codys discover what they thought was a solution to their problems may be the biggest threat of them all.

5x11 Trust the Process - J and Pope take a road trip to clean up the aftermath of some family business that went sideways. Deran and Craig scout a new mark with the help of Frankie.

5x12 Loose Ends - The Codys resolve unfinished business and plan their biggest heist ever without Smurf.

5x13 Launch - In the season finale, it's all hands on deck as the Cody family uses all their tools, tricks, and vehicles to pull off the job of their lives and settle all scores. A deadly secret from the past is also revealed!

#animal kingdom tnt #animal kingdom #ak spoilers #animal kingdom spoilers #animal kingdom tnt spoilers

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inkformyblood · 4 years ago

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Name Me Glory

Commander Cody Week Day 01 Bonds (posting just the writing this time cause tumblr) @commandercodyweek

Pairing: Cody & Rex, Cody & Alpha-17, Cody & Jango Fett (all platonic/sibling)

Summary: Cody doesn’t know when or how to quit, and he’ll keep pushing himself until he finds out. Set during training on Kaminoa

“Again.” CC-2224 spat the word out, blood trickling down his chin, thick and wet and blotting out everything else, as he pushed himself back onto his feet. The world tipped around him, the floor buckling beneath his feet as if the ever-present storm had finally broken into the building.

“Again?” Alpha-17’s eyes were wide and dark, and filled with something CC-2224 couldn’t name. Amusement, maybe? Regret? Whatever it was fled in an instant as Alpha-17 stepped forward, the sound of his feet muffled by the softer floor of the training mat, but it still reminded CC-2224 of the closing of a bulkhead door: final and resolute. “Step up then, shiny.”

When Alpha-17 put him down on the mat again, CC-2224 stayed down, the knee in his back a warning as the weight of the older clone pressed him further into the pad. The warning came as a whisper as Alpha-17 stood, cold fear curling down CC-2224’s spine: “Careful now, vod’ika. Mother’s watching.”

Alpha-17 left, each step calm and measured like the beating of a drum, the sound echoing back to CC-2224 as if it was a battalion marching away from him, but he didn’t move. Alpha-17’s warning twisted round his thoughts like a skipped track, slowly infecting everything else until CC-2224 felt a scream bubble up in his throat. Methodically, he bit his tongue, the steady pressure shifting into a wave of pain until the urge slowly ebbed away.

Carefully, he rolled his head to look towards the small observation deck set into one wall. The screen in front of it had once been fully reflective, showing the featureless metal walls and his steady, blank stare, but now the surface was pitted and tarnished. One of the corners had been shattered during a training exercise, the cracks slipping across the surface like a web. A flicker of movement in the broken, visible section betrayed the hiding place of the younger clone.

“Come out then, vod’ika!” CC-2224 called, his voice hoarse and cracked. Every movement felt like agony, his muscles having locked into place as the chill settled over the room now that the heavy electronic cameras — the Kaminoans’ eyes in the sky, almost always watching with their myriad blinking lights — had shut off for a moment. They would cycle back on eventually, a rhythm every clone had learned, but weren’t always manned. He knew he would have a moment of peace before he emerged out into the network of corridors, and was under their scrutiny once more.

The blonde hair wasn’t a surprise anymore, haloed around CT-7567’s face in tight curls as he scampered towards CC-2224. He could see the younger clone was in between growth cycles, his limbs compact but his cheeks were still rounded and flushed.

“Bacta?” CT-7567 mumbled around the edge of the nail he was chewing on, brow furrowed in intense concentration. He moved to flop onto CC-2224’s lap, but caught himself halfway, a wave of anguish flickering across his face.

“No, I’m fine.” CC-2224 reached up to him, and CT-7567 curled into him, his cheek resting against CC-2224’s chest. It ached, the smaller clone unintentionally pressing on the developing bruises that Alpha-17 left — all carefully in non-vital areas — but CC-2224 pulled him closer. “I have to keep pushing myself to be better.”

“You’re already the best,” CT-7567 argued with such perfect childish belief that CC-2224 was helpless to do anything other than let the laughter bubble up, curling forward to draw the other into Keldabe.

CC-2224 let out a steady breath, letting his eyes close, the constant weight he carried on his shoulders abating for a moment.

“Alpha-17 is just trying to follow what Jango taught him. So we can all be mandokarla.”

CT-7567 nodded sagely, but CC-2224 could sense the slight darting of his eyes and that he was chewing his lip as he mused it over, not fully understanding.

“Have you met Jango before?” His voice was hushed, almost reverent, and CC-2224 had to bite back a laugh. What were they teaching the shinies once they were decanted now? Jango Fett was their donor, and they were made in his image like the religions of long ago, but he was still just a man.

“No, I haven’t.” But he was lying.

CC-2224 met Jango Fett, the man rather than the deity who was both teacher and executioner, once.

The air of the corridor was cold and still, the heavy scent of salt lying thickly on the air, coating CC-2224’s tongue as he wept. He could still feel the pressure of the eyes of the other clones as the large door to the rec room opened, and only he walked through, bereft of his batchmates. The realisation that flickered over their faces was a reflection of his own horror upon awakening to the message on his datapad, before they quickly hid it behind blank professionalism. But the gentle tap of their fingers against their wrists, as light as a bird’s wing in the simulations, followed him like the ghost of a heartbeat.

He couldn’t get away from it then, the crushing weight that they had been ripped from him before they had truly become people, before they were able to be more than their numbers, so he ran and hid.

The plan descended on him, half-formed, as he squeezed through the small hatch that granted him access to the eyeless wiring channels and the ducts. They were Mando’a; that was the first thing they learned. They were Mando’a, no matter what anyone else told them.

But they would wear no beskar to paint, only plastoid armour, and CC-2224 had none of his own and had not inherited any. There were the carefully scavenged tins of paint, slipped from batch to batch and unit to unit, barely two steps ahead of the rolling tide of inspections inflicted upon them. Currently, the Alpha Batch retained them in the corridor outside their pods, their armour an explosion of colour in every hue they could squeeze out of the limited palette. They passed down the knowledge in whispers, mouths barely moving under the guise of inspections or during training, so he knew the colours held meaning.

CC-2224’s soul felt bathed in gold, so he slipped through the ductwork, his ribs scraping against the heated metal as wires sparked and snapped over his head, until he emerged, dust clinging to his hair and settling in his lungs. The metal rafters creaked beneath his feet as he slipped down from them, retrieving the paint from it’s hiding place behind a service panel and scrambling back up in an instant.

It clung to his fingers, the scent acrid in the air, and he carefully swiped it over his forearm, goosebumps rising in its wake. CC-2224 breathed out shakily, the grief for his lost brothers rising once more, and he set to work. Hours could have passed as he worked diligently, but he froze as voices echoed back along the corridor towards him.

The Kaminoans were instantly recognisable with their high, measured voices, but the other took him a moment before realisation sparked through him, almost knocking him from his perch.

During training, Jango’s accent was carefully modulated, locked beneath an iron-tight control into careful neutrality. But now it rose and fell like the sun, burning bright with anger.

“Hut’un!” The word was snapped, clear as day, and CC-2224 swayed on his precarious perch, eyes wide. Jango’s steps were a war-drum accompaniment to the Kamionan’s swaying stride as the pair passed beneath CC-2224.

“You go on,” Jango said, pausing just beneath CC-2224’s hiding place, causing his heart to leap into his throat, a cold sweat slipping down his spine as his heart ceased to beat in his chest. The Kaminoan inclined their head and continued without breaking stride, leaving Jango alone in the hallway. When he tipped his face back to meet CC-2224’s gaze, he thought he was going to die, bedecked in the gold of vengeance. But an almost unreadable expression passed over Jango’s face, a deep sorrow flickering like a leviathan passing just beneath the surface, before it was gone.

Wordlessly, he cracked the panel the paint was hidden behind and drew out the smaller tin of orange. He ducked his head to inspect it, and CC-2224 caught sight of a network of scars peeking out from the loose collar of his shirt and shrunk back further against the rafter. The metal groaned and protested with the movement, but Jango didn’t move.

“For Kote,” he said, finally, flashing CC-2224 a quick grin as he stretched up to offer the paint to the clone, who took it with unsteady hands, his eyes wide. Jango whistled as he walked away, something light that belayed the tension in the lines of his shoulders.

Orange for life. CC-2224 couldn’t guess at Prime’s motivations, but he felt the knot in his chest lessen, ever so slightly, as he drew the orange paint over the gold and finally let him cry.

⁂

“Back again so soon, vod’ika?” Alpha-17 called when CC-2224 stepped into the training room. A hush fell over the others, heads turning like reefs blown in a breeze to stare at him, silent and waiting.

CC-2224 merely nodded, taking his place in the line-up. That night’s sleep had been filled with coiling dreams and ran through with a thread of violent orange. He had to get better. He had to improve to keep his brothers safe, and — as Alpha-17 had roughly scrubbed the paint from his skin that night a few months ago, letting CC-2224 sob weakly onto his shoulder as he worked — the other clone knew it too.

“Always eager for glory.”

Alpha-17 paused in his pacing, head slowly turning towards CC-2224 like a big cat sizing up its prey. A chill ran down CC-2224’s spine, but he remained in place, despite the urge to run suddenly coiling in his gut.

“Kote.” Alpha-17 rolled the word around his tongue, catching CC-2224’s eye for the barest indicator of agreement. A name wasn’t something to take lightly, after all.

“Kote. Ni kyr’tayl gai sa’vod.”

“Alpha-17. Ni kyr’tayl gai sa’vod,” the newly named Kote echoed back at him.

Alpha-17 grinned, the same grin as Prime: fierce, righteous, protective rage and fury all honed to an edge, before he stepped away. Taking the pain with the pleasure was always his way of teaching, after all, the name acting as both a warning and reminder of his goal.

Kote grinned to himself. Kote, glory. It was a fitting name, after all.

#star wars #codyweek2021 #commander cody #captain rex #arc trooper alpha 17 #jango fett #my writing #fanfic

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commanderbengiskywalker · 4 years ago

Note

may i req 74 ( “What are you doing?”) whump and found family with Plo and Fordo, my lad?

Who is Watching You’re Back?

74: “What are you doing?”

Characters: Fordo and Plo.

Summary: Ever since he got assigned to the Kel Dor who happened to accompany him on this mission, he noticed things others seem to ignore.

A/N: This is an AU I have been going around in my head and I wish to test it. The Clones aren’t by neither the Jedi, Republic or the Kaminoans. They are Mandalorians and were taken away from Kamino early and have a treaty with Republic. The Jedi, on the other hand, belong to the Republic ever since Darth Malgus’ raid on Coruscant, as they failed to protect the Republic. I hope you enjoy.

The group moved through the dense forest as they proceeded to their target, the Separatists’ comm tower. Fordo has lead countless missions behind enemy lines to get back at Separatists for their Buir and to save his vod for any oncoming assault.

“Thatch,” he called to his comms, as he spied on the comm tower. “What is the amount of resistance?”

There was silence in response, as they waited for the scout team to report.

“Says there are six on the highest platform, six at the entrance.” The voice of Grounder replied.

“How many inside the tower?” Fordo asked.

“Twelve more inside.”

“Seems easy,” chimed Dare through the comms.

“What of our special “help”, Ori’vod?”

Fordo frowned behind his helmet. He didn’t know much of the Kel Dor Jetii that Wolffe dropped on him, but from his loose statements of being a “di’kutla Jetii” on their first meeting, he didn’t say much else. His records show that he was involved in both the Hyperspace War as leader because the previous Jetii died to an ambush, and the Yinchorii Uprising as a servant to the Republic’s whims. He had good reputation as the Republic dog he was, but he never talked much as he preferred to stand at the side during briefings with his vod. Or he would await in the hanger bay or training deck for occupying his time. He was strange compared to how the others were described by working on a ship or meditating alone.

“Kel Dor,” he called into the comms, “what is your position?”

He was only greeted with static. Not the first time a Jetii greeted him with static as response, as he worked with a Shistavavan Jetii who never talked.

He sighed. “Let’s move forward.”

The group moved to the target as Thatch snipped out the ones in front before they could react. They halted at the door while Fordo kicked the droid in the faceplate and shot the other in the chassis.

“Wire, open it up,” Fordo said.

Wire approached the panel, but before she could do anything the door opened to a bunch of dismantled Battle Droids and a single Kel Dor with a brandished Lightsaber.

“How did you get in?” He asked, as he entered.

The Kel Dor deactivated his Lightsaber and hung it belt before clasping his hands behind his back.

“My apologies, General.” The Kel Dor responded. “I merely saw a vantage point to the west of the platform and entered there.”

Fordo huffed and turned to his vod. “Wire, disable their transmissions, inform Cody and Rex that we’re ready.”

“Yes, Ori’vod.” Wire nodded, as she turned to the console.

“The rest, let’s head to the platform.” He ordered, as he walked to the stairs. “You too, Jetii.”

The rest of group made there way up the steps, passing by the occasional droid as they went. Fordo didn’t bother with them, as his concern fell to the Kel Dor’s twitching talons. He frowned from behind his mask. ‘Is he always this twitchy?’ He wondered absently.

They were greeted with a beautiful skyline over looking the forest and the occasional bird flying by from the west. The Kel Dor stood next to Grounder as they scan the area, he noticed him grabbing the railing tightly.

Fordo felt the familiar tap of Thatch, as he turned ti see him point to an oncoming battalion of Super Battle Droids coming from the west. There were also a few tanks accompanying them.

“Grounder, ready the rocket launcher for those tanks,” he ordered, as he grab his pistols.

“What of the rest?” Grounder asked, as he set up his launcher.

“We’ll handle it. Wire, where’s the reinforcements?”

“On there way, but Vultures droids are blocking them.” Wire replied through the comms.

“Then we’ll hold out.”

The group grab their weapons and ready for the assault. Grounder fired a rocket to the nearest tank disabling them, but in turn alerting them of their position. Thatch snipped several on the ground though more took their place.

“If only we had bombers,” Grounder grits, as he fired at the second tank, “then we could take a load of them out.”

“We’ll just have to hold, vod’ika.” Fordo replied shooting down the others.

A blur passed by him as the Kel Dor jumped off the platform and toward the battle below, but the sound of crackling came off of his body while the smell of burning ozone filled his nostrils.

“The Kriff is the matter with him?!” He shouted, as he watched him fall.

Suddenly there was an explosion of electricity that went around the droids. The shockwave went about three feet away from the intisl blast radius, disabling multiple droids in the process. The only thing that was left the smell of burning ozone that filled the air.

Fordo stared blankly as he had never seen anything like that before. Is this what Republic was hiding from them? A Jetii who can shoot lighting. He shook his hea as he fastened his cable to the railing.

“Let’s move.” He ordered, as he jumped off and down to the battle below.

The Kel Dor blocked the on coming blaster fire, as they others reached the ground. Several grazes hit his arms as he attempted to bloc the overwhelming fire, flinched at the ones that suddenly came behind them. He turned to me Fordo’s pistol aimed at the nearest droid.

“We need to talk,” the General shouted, as he walked up beside him.

“Yes, Sir.” The Kel Dor replied automatically, while blocking the shoots

“Hey, Fordo,” called from the comms, “need some help?”

“Get down here, Warthog.” Fordo order to his comms.

Then a line of ships fired down on top of them and at the droids. Then they came back around to fire bombs at those in the rear, cutting off further assult to the ground team.

A gunship landed next to them with blue and animalistic designs. The group ran towards it as Wire followed behind them with the Kel Dor blocking fire for her. They shut the doors as were all accounted for.

“Take us up, Sky.” Fordo called up.

“Alright, Ori’vod.” Sky called back.

Fordo felt the familiar jostling of the ship, but he couldn’t his eyes iff of the twitching Kel Dor as his fingers with crackle with electricity.

_______________________________________

When they reached the Resolute, they stepped off of the gunship. Wire rubbed her arm, as the graze bleeding through her greys, while Grounder and Thatch went to put down their weapons. Fordo walked up to Cody and Rex, they greeted them at the hanger.

“It was successful, I hope,” said Rex as he held his grey a blue helmet under his arm.

“You can say that, vod’ika,” the eldest replied, removing his red and black helmet. “Wolffe never said his Jetii can do lighting, though.”

“What?” The two said in unison with bewildered expressions.

“Di’kut Jetii,” he called, over his shoulder, “come here.”

The Kel Dor walked up beside him with hands clasped behind him, his shoulder straightened and his tilted up.

“Tell me, what did you think you were doing jumping down into battle like that?” He asked firmly.

“Apologies, sir,” the Kel Dor said, bowing. “I merely was providing a solution. I will take the according punishment for my mistake.”

“Punishment?”

The Kel Dor stiffened, as he slowly straightened. He shuffled from foot to foot nervously. Was he always this nervous?

“It is forbidden to use such an ability that I am capable of, sir.” He explained. “If are were to, there must a punishment or it is informed to the Republic.”

“Indeed.” The posh voice of General Tarkin echoed in the hanger bay, followed by another Besalisk Jetii behind him. “The asset is forbidden to use such abilities outside of those that are instructed to them.”

“Is that really necessary? Surely the Jetii has a name.”

“Yet you insist on calling him a Jedi, but never bother to ask.”

Fordo glanced at the Jetii, who stepped back a bit. He never once said his name or neither did he ask. Names are important to his vod as they choose them after Buir run away with them twenty years ago, but he never bothered to ask him.

“What’s your name, Jetii?” He asked gently.

“It doesn’t matter, sir.” He replied flatly.

“No, what is it? You’re name.”

“Plo, sir. Plo of clan Koon.”

He smiled at the clan name. ‘Seems very far away from his clan..’ he thought, as he reached out his hand.

Plo stared blankly at the offer before going to reach, but another hand grabbed his.

“What do you think you are trying to do, Guard?” The Besalisk barked, tightening his grip on his wrist.

“I..I was simply…” Plo stammered, gazing up at the taller Jetii.

“He was being polite and giving me a hand shake.” Fordo cut in.

“Apologies, General, but Kel Dor have the ability see thoughts by touch. He doesn’t do handshakes.”

Fordo tightened his hand into a fist as he brought to his side. He glared up at the Jetii as he glared back at him. His vod murmured in Mando’a insults behind him.

“We shall take the beast with us,” Tarkin states, as he scowled at the Plo. “He shall be punished accordingly for his blunt miss use of his abilities.”

“That isn’t necess—,” the eldest tried to cut in, but they already turned to drag off Plo with them.

“Kriffing Republic scum.” Rex muttered, as he glared at the group.

“Tell Wolffe to comm me if Plo ever returns.” Fordo states, firmly as he walks away from his vod. He didn’t feel right abandoning Plo like that.

—————————————————————

The next time he saw the Kel Dor was on another joint mission a few months later. He walked into the bridge as his vod’ika talked while the Jetii stood off to the side. The Togruta and the two human Jetii stood close to each other near one of the modules while his vod’ikas surrounded the map. What caught his wmeye was Plo, who stood in the far corner clasping his hands, his bandaged hands.

“What kriff?!” He shouted, as he walked up to Plo. “Why didn’t you tell me, Wolffe?!”

Wolffe and the others glanced Fordo, as he approached his Jetii, grabbing his hands. The Jetii stiffened at the outburst.

Wolffe frowned. “I asked as well. He wouldn’t say.”

Fordo frowned as he inspected the injuries, as the fingers were in the splint for obvious broken bones for one reason… he used the lighting.

“What did they do to you…?” He whispered, running his hand against the bandages.

“It is alright, sir,” Plo whispered, as he tried move his hand away. “It is alright, I am fine.”

Fordo frowned. “Someone has to watch your back.”

“Others need their backs watched, sir. Mine is fine.”

That was one thing they had in common, they preferred look after those younger than themselves over watch themselves. Fordo made a vow to adopt this Jetii, if it’s the last thing he does.

__________________________________________

A/N: I hope you enjoyed. I really wanted to try this AU with Clones being actual Mandalorians and leading battles while the Jedi served as their guards. I hopevI achieved with what you wanted. I am still doing more requests if you are interested.

#plo koon #commander fordo #commander cody #captain rex #wilhuff tarkin #pong krell #au #star wars #star wars: the clone wars #star wars: the expanded universe #star wars the prequel trilogy #bengi writes

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redrobinhoods · 4 years ago

Text

Age of Heroes | Chapter 1, Together

AO3 Link | 2100 words (approx) | Prologue, Chapter 2

Chapter summary: Anakin, Obi-Wan, and Ahsoka are approached by a familiar face with a request for vengeance.

“We’ll be fine as long as we stay together.” – Obi-Wan Kenobi

The clones moved through the fallen ranks of droids, occasionally stopping to blast or otherwise incapacitate still functioning droid units. In the midst of them stood two stationary clones, one adorned in blue, the other in gold. Despite the smoke in the air and the smell of burnt flesh and circuits it was as close to peace as the officers had had in weeks.

“Thanks for the assist, Rex. It’s always a pleasure to fight with the 501st.”

“The pleasure is ours, Cody. Whatever it takes.” The unspoken words hung in the air. Whatever it takes to win, to save clone lives, to protect the Republic. But those three couldn’t coexist. Sometimes they would be lucky, and their victories were won with minimal casualties. More often, duty and the Republic came first. The clones were disposable. If even the Jedi could be discarded for the Republic, the clones were just ornaments to be marveled at and thrown away when the novelty has worn off.

Cody nodded. “Whatever it takes.”

Nearby, three Jedi stood looking towards Yerbana City. Two human males dressed in robes, one in black and one in white, and one togruta female, also dressed in black, wearing a loose tunic over a bodysuit not unlike that of the clones.

“What do you think is next?” Ahsoka Tano looked away from the city to Anakin Skywalker.

“I don’t know, Snips.” Anakin turned from the city, back towards the battleground on the bridge. In the smoke he could just make out the shapes of two men standing side-by-side in the carnage. “The men need to rest. We never anticipated the Outer Rim Sieges would last this long.”

“It is a siege, Anakin.” Obi-Wan Kenobi turned to follow his former padawan’s gaze. “Though I wouldn’t pass up a drink at Dex’s Diner right now.”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but neither would I.” Anakin scoffed. He bent over slightly to elbow Ahsoka’s arm. “Might even slip you something under the table.”

“Anakin-.” Obi-Wan was cut off by the beep from Anakin’s comm. Anakin answered with triumphant glee.

“Skywalker here. What is it, Admiral?”

“Sir, we’ve just received a transmission from,” the Admiral Yularen paused to find the right words, “a person of interest. You had best take this transmission here in person.”

“We’ll be there shortly, Admiral.” Anakin turned to Ahsoka as Obi-Wan walked away to hail a gunship. “Guess that drink will have to wait.”

“I’ll hold you to that, Master.”

Captain Rex watched the LAAT/i take off, its door sealing around three unmistakable beings.

“Don’t get comfy, Codes. I think we just got our next assignment.”

Cody turned to follow Rex’s gaze. “I think you may be right, old boy. I have a feeling we’re not going to see each other for a while.”

---

The three Jedi moved quickly from the hanger to the briefing room, the padawan trailing slightly behind the two knights to accommodate the clones and officers rushing around the Venator.

The briefing room doors hadn’t fully opened when Anakin spoke. “All right, Admiral. What’s so important you brought us all the way back here?”

Yularen gestured to the holotable, where three Mandalorians were displayed, each in the distinct armor of Death Watch.

“You-.“ Ahsoka started, interrupted by Obi-Wan, who lay a hand on her shoulder.

“Lady Bo-Katan.” Obi-Wan stepped forward graciously. “To what do we owe this pleasure?”

“I have urgent information for you.” Bo-Katan removed her helmet and turned towards the Jedi. “The Nite Owls and I have located the renegade Sith Lord, Maul. If we move swiftly, I believe we can capture him.”

“How did you come by this information?” Obi-Wan’s calm voice betrayed none of his racing thoughts.

“We have been tracking Maul’s movement for several months. One of my people was able to obtain some transmission codes from the Pykes on Oba Diah, which helped us pinpoint some of his previous locations. And now, we know that Maul is on Mandalore in the city of Sundari.”

Anakin and Obi-Wan exchanged a look. Obi-Wan turned back first. “You’re certain of this?”

“He arrived two days ago.”

“So why not take him yourself?” Ahsoka cut in from behind her masters. “You know where he is.”

Bo-Katan’s scowl morphed into a look of shame. “I don’t have the numbers needed for a siege.” The Jedi generals had expected as such, and Obi-Wan gave a small nod for her to continue. “Without a complete lockdown of the city, Maul will escape again. That’s why I’m proposing a joint operation. If we are successful, you’ll have Maul and I’ll have Mandalore.”

Obi-Wan raised his hand to stroke his beard “If Republic forces aid you in your assault it will break treaties that are 100 years old. We will effectively be drawn into yet another war.”

Bo-Katan shrugged. “What’s one more?”

“Well,” Anakin cut in this time, “we’re not finished with our first one yet.”

“I will advise the Jedi Council of this development.” Obi-Wan took a step back from the hologram. “We need to be sure of our decision on this matter.”

“There’s no time!” Bo-Katan slammed a fist down into the palm of her other hand. “Maul’s influence on Mandalore is destroying my people. He murdered my sister! I thought she meant something to you.”

“She did,” Obi-Wan’s expression fell for a moment before he regained his composure, “and still does. But I cannot allow my feelings to cloud my judgment. The Council will decide what our course of action will be. I will inform you of our decision in due time.”

“Maul will have escaped long before your council reaches a decision! Mandalore needs action, now!” The hologram faded and the room was left in silence.

“Master Kenobi, with all due respect, shouldn’t finding Maul be a priority right now?” Ahsoka stepped out of the shadows of the room to join her superior officers at the holotable. “We believe that there is a Sith Lord in the Senate. Wouldn’t Maul know who this Sith is and his goal? This is an opportunity that we can’t afford to miss.”

Obi-Wan sighed and smiled ruefully at Ahsoka. “I agree with you, Ahsoka. But this matter is clouded by the dark side of the force. We need to be certain that this invasion will be worth the risk. The Council must consider the matter before we take any action.”

“Of course, Master Kenobi.” Ahsoka sighed after the Jedi master left the room. She had no faith in the supposed wisdom of the Jedi Council. Not anymore.

Ahsoka was still unsure if rejoining the Order had been the right choice. Perhaps it had been one made out of fear, fear of the unknown world outside of the Order and the war. She would’ve lost everything. Not just her lightsaber and her rank, but her friends; Anakin, Obi-Wan, Rex, hell- the entire 501st. She would have never found the courage to look Rex in the eye and tell him that she was walking away. Not when she would see his face every day in the clones around the galaxy. Not after all they’d been through.

Anakin lay his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it softly. “I hope this isn’t about that drink.”

Ahsoka forced a small smile. “It’s not, Master. I’m just,” she stopped to find the right words, “concerned about the ability of the Council to make the right decision.”

“Obi-Wan will convince them.” He said it so confidently that Ahsoka believed him. He had never lied to her or hidden his thoughts. After her return to the Order, he had strived with her to find the peace that she needed to feel at home again. He had been the one to suggest her new robes. Still unconventional, some Jedi found black to be a troublesome color for a Jedi, but they reminded her of Anakin and the clones. The bodysuit had been specifically modified for her from one that the 501st had donated when the subject came up in their presence. Maybe the Council had betrayed her, but Anakin and the clones had always stood up for her. Even outside of the 501st. She had received apologies from Fox and Wolffe, though while she was sure that Wolffe’s was genuine, her own apology to him certainly was, she had a feeling that Rex had contributed to Fox’s. Or perhaps Cody, who was the man’s batchmate and the only clone officer in her immediate circle that had acted like nothing had changed between them. Maybe it hadn’t. He’d never hunted her down like the others. Though she had seen him try to deck Fox once at a military dinner after she had been restored as a padawan. That had also been the only time she’d seen Rex drink, and she wondered if the events were related.

“Of course, Master.” She followed Anakin and Admiral Yularen out of the briefing room and onto the bridge of the Venator. While the men discussed the battle and what lay in store for them, she walked over to the windows and watched the parade of gunships returning to the cruisers. One stream returning to her cruiser carrying the 501st, the other stream returning to the cruiser beside them carrying the 212th. She stayed at the window even after the lines of ships had ended, turning her gaze down to the planet below and letting her mind wander.

“How are you feeling, Commander?” Rex. She hadn’t noticed his arrival on the bridge, but she was certain he’d been there long enough to know what was being discussed. She could tell him that she was doing fine, even well, but he would’ve known that it was a lie. He’d told her once that the tips of her lekku twitched when she was lying. She didn’t believe him anymore. When she was younger, she’d try to hide her lekku when she was about to lie to him. She’d been awed at how Rex always seemed to know anyways, and a little ashamed when she realized why later. She’d move on from that now to believe that he just always knew. Maybe Jango Fett had been a mind-reader, more likely it was the Force. While the clones were not Force users, there had been many times where Ahsoka was sure that they were at least sensitive to it; knowing a brother had been hurt or died, beginning to execute orders before the command was given, the way Rex always knew when she was hurting.

“I feel uncertain, Rex. Why would Maul emerge from hiding now? And if the Jedi Council doesn’t approve an attack against him, what will he do? He must have a plan.”

Rex sighed. “I don’t have the answers, sir. But I believe that we will find out soon.”

“What do you mean?” Rex turned towards the back of the bridge and Ahsoka looked just in time to see the closed doors open to reveal a satisfied Obi-Wan.

“The attack on Mandalore has been approved.” Obi-Wan had just paused for a breath when a clone shot up from the command console.

“Sir! Grievous is attacking the capitol, he’s attacking Coruscant. General Shaak Ti is being dispatched to protect the Chancellor, but they need reinforcements!”

“How long until we can be there?” Anakin moved onto the command walkway to look down into the pits of the bridge.

“Within the hour, sir.” Another clone.

Anakin turned back to Obi-Wan. “You go to Mandalore, we’ll take care of Grievous. With any luck, this will all be over soon, and we can join you.”

Obi-Wan shook his head almost imperceptibly. “There’s no such thing as luck.”

“Good thing I taught Ahsoka better.”

Obi-Wan smiled and turned to depart.

“Obi-Wan.” Anakin called after him. Obi-Wan stopped and looked back. “May the Force be with you.”

“Goodbye, old friend. May the Force be with you.” And with that, Obi-Wan departed the bridge.

“Admiral Yularen, set a course for Coruscant. We leave as soon as Obi-Wan’s shuttle is clear.” Anakin walked to the end of the walkway to stand beside Ahsoka and Rex. All too soon, the stars outside the transparisteel began to blur as they entered hyperspace.

---

An hour later, two starfighters streaked over Coruscant. One yellow-grey, the other maroon-white. Only two, but two was enough. They dodged in and out of the debris, taking out a number of Buzz droids and Vulture droids, before coming to a stop in the hanger bay of the Invisible Hand.

In Coruscant’s atmosphere, gunships would bring the jetpack troopers of the 501st to the aid of citizens floundering in the aftermath of the attack and the weakened Coruscant Guard. Captain Rex would lead the effort to destroy all remaining droids as Commander Fox dealt with the civilian casualties.

Far away from Coruscant, a Venator pulled out of hyperspace over Mandalore. The hanger bay doors slide open, and gunships carrying the 212th Attack Battalion swarmed out of the ship towards the planet.

The end of the Clone Wars had begun.

#commander cody #captain rex #ahsoka tano #anakin skywalker #obi-wan kenobi #my fics #age of heroes fic

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yeah-klave · 4 years ago

Text

The Sexual Awakening of David Joseph Katz

Chapter 1: Fun and Games

Series summary: A multi-chapter journey of self-discovery and sexual awakening.

Chapter summary: In the wake of a storm, The Umbrella Academy siblings and their friends pass the time playing truth or dare, and slowly, secret feelings are revealed.

Genre: Hidden feelings, mutual pining, developing relationship, eventual smut (although none in this chapter).

A/N: This is set in a nothing-too-bad-really-happens modern AU. The characters are all in their early twenties (I’m picturing adult!actor versions of them and Dave is the Cody Ray Thompson version!). The siblings are all still living at home, relatively happily, and Dave, Lila, Sissy and Carl are friends who hang out with them at the Academy.

Word length: 3.3k

Warning: Mention of canon compliant incestuous feelings, but nothing explicit and there won’t be any actual sibling incest.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of The Umbrella Academy characters or settings.

*******************************************************

The tail end of a storm was blowing over the city. Dirty cotton wool clouds hung low in the sky and the angry gunfire of rain had finally begun to ease into a soothing staccato patter again the windowpanes. The muggy heat of the last month, that had previously pressed against the skin like wet clothes, had broken at last.

Inside The Umbrella Academy, the gang lounged, languid in the quiet calm that the change in the weather had brought: Luther staring out of a window, Diego and Lila sitting cross-legged with a pile of balled up foil candy wrappers competitively aiming at a coffee mug abandoned on the floor, Carl and Sissy curled in a chair, Ben reading, Five scribbling in a notebook, Vanya and Dave sitting at the counter playing a quiet game of cards and Klaus reclining on the sofa, one leg thrown over the back and his head resting in Allison lap who was absently playing with his hair.

“Looks like it’s finally easing up out there,” Luther commented.

“Umm,” Allison agreed. “That was a pretty bad one.”

“I wonder how long the power’s going to stay off,” worried Vanya.

“Don’t you have a back-up generator in this mansion?” Lila quipped, elbowing Diego then lobbing a balled-up foil wrapper across the room where it landed directly in the mug. “Yes!” She turned to Diego and pulled a face. Diego frowned.

“We could play a game,” suggested Sissy. “My sister and I play one like Truth or Dare, but it’s just Truth. We could try that?”

“You know what would be better that Truth or Truth, Sissy?” said Carl smirking, “Truth or Dare.”

“Okay,” Sissy laughed shyly, “I guess we can be a bit more adventurous!”

“Well as it’s your idea, Sissy, do you want to go first?” Luther asked kindly.

“Okay,” she nodded, “truth.”

The others paused for a moment, thinking.

“What’s your… guilty pleasure?” Allison asked finally.

“Oh, that’s a good one. Um, let me think. I’d probably have to say, daytime tv murder mysteries – Murder She Wrote, Diagnosis Murder, those yellow writing made-for-TV films. So cheesy, I know, but there’s something so comforting about them. I like to watch them curled up on the sofa with hot tea and some biscuits. But Carl teases me about them all the time. Don’t you, Carl?”

Carl scoffed. “Yes, because they’re brain-rotting drivel!”

Vanya frowned. “No, they’re not! I love those shows too. I think that was a great answer, Sissy.”

Sissy smiled shyly and ducked her head trying to hide her blush.

“Right,” she replied after a moment, “my turn to choose. Allison, truth or dare?”

“Truth”

“Okay, same question – what’s your guilty pleasure?”

“Long showers” Allison replied straight away. “Taking my time to wash my hair, using my favourite coconut body wash, just standing and feeling the spray on my skin and all the way to my scalp, letting my muscles all unwind under the press of the hot water. Washing the day away. Then getting out and wrapping up in a big fluffy towel. Bliss.”

“Well aren’t we all being sentimental today?” Klaus grinned rolling his eyes, “I thought truth or dare was code for ‘tell us who you secretly fancy and what you’ve done in bed’.”

Dave stomach flipped over and he concentrated very hard on the cards in his hands.

“Shut up Klaus,” Luther said.

“I guess it’s what you make it,” Diego laughed, throwing a foil ball across the room, where it hit the rim of the mug and bounced off.

“Ha,” gloated Lila.

“Okay Klaus,” Allison cut in, “Truth or dare?”

“Dare.” Klaus replied instantly.

“Right,” Allison challenged, “I dare you to run a lap of the courtyard, as fast as you can.”

“Fine,” Klaus sighed dramatically, unfolding himself from his position on the sofa and standing up. “Kind of boring, but fine. I mean, it’s still raining pretty hard and I’ll get soaked. And these pants are not designed for running in.” Dave flicked his eyes up, caught sight of Klaus sticking his leg out in a pose, displaying the curve of his backside in the tight pants and looked away again quickly, his face heating up.

“But whatever,” Klaus huffed. “I’ll do it, and then I’ll get to pick next.” He looked around the room, glancing at the others then caught Dave’s eye and smiled mischievously. Dave’s stomach clenched again.

Klaus casually ran his fingers through his wild curls. As ever, his hair loosely settled in a slightly chaotic disorder that Klaus hoped looked carefree and haphazard, but which his siblings knew he actually secretly practiced in front of the mirror. He wandered across the room, flicking Ben’s ear on his way to the door. Ben swatted at him.

Dave watched Klaus go, his eyes furtively following the strip of flat, toned stomach visible between the hem of Klaus’ cropped tee and the waistband of his low-slung tight leather pants.

Slowly, everyone got up from their various positions around the living area and tramped after him.

At the door to the courtyard, Klaus turned and flashed a quick grin at them all, raising his fingers to his temple in a mock salute. Then, he wrenched the door open and lurched off, sprinting out into the rain, his long legs making him look a little gangly and uncoordinated.

The others watched from the doorway as he hurtled around the far side of the courtyard and then began jogging back in the direction of the door. A couple of times his boots skidded on the sodden ground and he nearly overbalanced, but he just managed to right himself in time. The others laughed from inside.

“Graceful,” Ben teased.

“Shut up,” Klaus barked as he crashed back through the door in a shower of water droplets. The others jumped back quickly.

The pounding rain from earlier had eased considerably, but it was still falling in steady sheets. Klaus was soaked through, water running from his hair in rivulets and the fabric of his tee sticking to the toned muscle beneath. Dave caught himself staring at the water droplets running from the sharp jut of his jawline down the column of his neck and flicked his eyes away guiltily.

Laughing, Klaus pushed the wet hair from his face, then proceeded to shake as much water off as he could.

“Hey dude!” Diego laughed with him, “stop trying to shake yourself dry like a dog and just get a towel like a normal person!”

Klaus grinned again, but before setting off in the direction of the bathroom, he carefully toed off one boot, then the other, then reached down and in one fluid motion, peeled the tee off his body and over his head. As he did, Dave’s eyes traveled up the expanse of glistening, rain-slickened skin and taut muscle, his mouth suddenly going dry.

Klaus wrung out the tee as best he could through the door, then hung it on the back of a chair to dry off. He then padded away in search of a towel. The others drifted back into the living room to their previous positions.

Dave poured himself a glass of water from the tap in the kitchen, then headed back to the living room and sat down on one of the sofas.

After a few minutes, Klaus wandered back into the room, rubbing a towel briskly over his head, then flopped down on the sofa next to Dave.

“Right,” Klaus smirked. “My turn. And rather than picking one person, I’ve got a dare I want to challenge you all to take part in. Everyone game? And before you say anything, anyone that backs out is just asking to be called chicken for the next year or so, or until I forget. And yes, I’m looking at you, Number One.” Klaus flashed Luther a cheeky grin, his eyes twinkling.

The others all eyed each other warily, but nobody said anything.

“Okay then,” Klaus carried on, “I take it everyone’s on board?” The others nodded reluctantly.

“Then I dare everyone in this room to play three rounds of spin the bottle – round one, quick kiss; round two, proper kiss with tongue; and round three, full on seven-minutes-in-heaven-style make-out sesh. No backing out, no skipping, no passing your turn. No matter how awkward, you just have to lock lips with whoever you get paired with.”

Dave felt the atmosphere in the room thicken. He could see everyone shooting looks at each other.

“Klaus!” Five said in disgust. “You do realise that most of the people in this room are siblings, right?”

“Yeah,” Luther added in a wavering voice, “that would just be…. wrong.”

“Not biological though,” Allison added.

Luther looked over at her quickly, but she was shuffling the deck of cards, determinedly not catching anyone’s eye.

“Of course, you’d say that, Chicken Hargreeves,” Klaus quipped.

Luther bristled.

Lila raised an eyebrow and looked up at Diego, “What do you think? Do you dare?”

“Oh, you’re bringing it are you, huh?” he jokingly squared up to her. “Well if you’re in Lila, then I’m in”

“Yeah, probably because you’re desperate for the bottle to pair you two up,” teased Ben. “That way, you’ve finally got an excuse to make out with her, rather than bottling up all your sexual frustration and letting it out by trying to beat her at everything,”

“Trying and failing,” Lila added with a grin.

“Shut up, Ben” Diego snapped.

“What, are you feeling called out, Number Two?” Lila joked.

“Oh, you wish.” He growled.

“Maybe I do.” She raised an eyebrow at him.

Diego looked lost for a moment, his eyebrows drawing together slightly and his eyes flicking across Lila’s face questioningly.

Klaus nudged Dave’s leg with his knee, catching his eye and inclining his head slightly towards Diego and Lila, grinning and raising an eyebrow. Dave grinned back and rolled his eyes, but inside his heart was hammering against his chest.

“Okay, we’re in” Diego said, still staring into Lila’s face. “Everyone else?”

“Fine,” Luther huffed.

“I guess so,” said Allison.

“Okay,” Sissy nodded.

“Me too,” Vanya agreed.

“Y-yeah,” Dave stuttered finally.

“You’re all immature idiots,” said Five. “There’s no way I’m taking part in this.”

“Me neither,” Ben added, “I’m out.”

“Chickens!” Klaus called.

“Funny,” Ben added, “I’d much rather be called a chicken, than be told to make out with one of my brothers or sisters.”

“Spoil sport,” Klaus waved a hand dismissively in his direction.

“Yeah, Sissy and I aren’t playing either,” Carl rested a hand heavily on Sissy’s shoulder.

“Actually,” Sissy said, shrugging his hand off. “I do want to play.” She got up and moved to a sofa nearer the others. Carl frowned, looking cross.

Allison put the cards down and headed over to the bar to retrieve an empty bottle from the recycling.

Luther ran his hand up and down his forearm nervously. Dave absently watched the movement, aware of the pulse of blood he could suddenly hear thrumming in his ears and trying to ignore the warm weight of Klaus on the sofa next to him and the single, tiny point of contact where Klaus’ knee brushed his own leg.

Allison returned and set the bottle on the floor.

“Okay, so I assume we spin twice for each round then?” She looked up at the others. At their nods, Allison twisted her fingers, setting the bottle to revolve on the floor before it slowed to point at Lila. Lila’s eyes sparkled and she looked over at Diego, raising an eyebrow.

Allison leaned forwards and spun again and this time the bottle landed on Luther.

Diego’s eyes narrowed and he swallowed quickly. Luther closed his eyes, steeling himself. When he opened them, he glanced quickly over at Diego, a question in his eyes.

“Well get on with it then, Number One,” Dave said gruffly. “No backing out, wasn’t that the idea.” But Dave could still hear the edge of hurt in his voice.

Luther pulled himself to his feet. Lila stood, opened her arms wide and jokingly said, “Come ‘ere then, loverboy”. She leaned forwards and planted a kiss on Luther’s mouth with an over-exaggerated smacking sound. She then pulled back and grimaced, wiping her mouth with the back of his hand. Luther laughed weakly and sat back down, his eyes briefly glancing over in Allison’s direction.

“Well that’s round one ‘quick kiss’ done,” Klaus said excitedly. “Next we’ve got ‘proper kiss with tongue’.”

Allison lined up the bottle again and spun. When it finally stopped, it was pointing at Sissy. Dave heard Carl let out a cross grunt from his position across the room. Allison reached forward and quickly spun it again. Dave glanced over to Vanya and saw her eyes fixed on the bottle. And perhaps he was imaging it, but with the fierce expression on Vanya’s face it almost looked as though she was willing the bottle to land on a particular person. Please, just once, her lips seemed to mouth. When the bottle stopped, it was pointing directly at her. A flash of relief seemed to pass over Vanya’s face, quickly followed by guilt.

Dave looked to see if anyone else had noticed, but nobody was looking: Diego and Lila were still staring at each other, Luther and Allison were looking anywhere but at each other and when Dave turned, Klaus’ eyes were on his own face. Dave opened his mouth to say something and Klaus’ eyes quickly flicked up from his lips to his eyes. Dave closed his mouth and turned back to the room, lost for a moment.

Across the room, Sissy had eased herself up and walked over to where Vanya was standing nervously. She reached her hand out and trailed her fingers down the side of Vanya’s face, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. Carl leaned forwards, face set, elbows on knees, his eyes glued to the girls. Vanya swallowed and licked her lips. Sissy leaned forwards and gently pressed her lips against Vanya’s. After a heartbeat, Vanya pressed forwards, her lips moving against Sissy’s and her hand going up to card slowly through Sissy’s silky hair. Sissy cupped Vanya’s cheek, her thumb gently stroking along the cheekbone. Dave saw Vanya’s lips part and a flash of tongue before the girls’ mouths slotted together again. When they finally pulled apart, they kept their heads close, foreheads touching, breathing each other’s air for a final moment. Vanya brought her hand forwards and ever so gently traced her thumb over Sissy’s bottom lip, then, as though suddenly catching herself, pulled it away suddenly, breaking the spell of the moment.

“That,” Klaus declared, “was hot.”

Vanya hummed absently in response, a strange expression of mixed longing and sadness on her face.

As Sissy moved back to her seat, Dave saw the dazed expression on her face and the slight frown around her eyes. She sat back down, avoiding Carl’s fierce glare, but Dave saw her furtive glance in Vanya’s direction.

“Well,” Allison exclaimed, “last round.”

“The last pair are really going to have to up their game to top that performance,” Klaus joked.

Dave looked over at Klaus, trying not to lose himself in the captivating twinkle of his green eyes.

Allison spun again.

Dave watched the bottle rotate, vaguely aware that the thudding of his pulse in his ears had returned. And finally, he swallowed hard when he realised the bottle had come to a rest pointing directly at him.

Allison lent over and spun the bottle again.

Time slowed for Dave, his eyes following the mesmerising twist of the bottle on the floor, vaguely aware of the sound of his friends making drumroll and crescendo noises, hearing the thud of his pulse in his ears, feeling the pounding of his heart against his ribs and, above all, the warm point of contact on his leg from Klaus’ knee. When the bottle finally slowed, the thump in his ears grew to a deafening roaring and he slowly looked up to stare into the face of his friend, who, catching his breath, suddenly looked just as wide-eyed.

“Serves you right, Klaus,” Luther teased lightly. “Setting this dare as a way to make fun of the rest of us. But it looks like you pulled the short straw.”

“Something like that,” Klaus croaked.

“Remember,” Diego cut in. “You’ve got to make this seven-minutes-in-heaven level steamy!”

Klaus ignored him and shuffled closer to Dave on the sofa.

“You sure this is okay?” He asked quietly.

Dave swallowed and nodded.

Klaus brought their bodies even closer, then glanced down nervously, suddenly overly aware of his naked chest. He was so close, Dave could see the fan of Klaus’ lashes against his cheeks, smell his slightly minty shampoo, the clean freshness of his skin and also something deeper. Something that reminded him of freshly cut grass after the rain. Even from here, Dave imagined he could taste the sweetness of Klaus’ skin. Dave leaned forward slightly and breathed in. And that was when Klaus looked up, their eyes met and the rest of the world faded away, and for the first time, Dave saw his own secret longing reflected back at him in Klaus’ eyes. Eyes that looked more nervous and hopeful that he had ever seen them. And just like that, Dave let his walls come crashing down like a house of cards and he leaned forwards until he met Klaus’ lips with his own.

Klaus’ eyes fluttered shut as he melted against Dave, mouth parting and hand coming up to rest on Dave’s neck, lost in the slow push and slide of their lips and tongues.

Dave leaned into the hand on his neck; the feeling of the fingertips on the sensitive skin setting off sparks of fire along his veins. This, he though, yes, this. He brought a hand up to bury in Klaus’ wild dark hair, feeling Klaus quietly hitch in a breath when he gently tugged. Klaus’ mouth caught Dave’s bottom lip and Dave almost groaned as he felt the soft scrape of Klaus’ teeth as he slowly traced them over the over-stimulated skin. Dave felt the smallest tweak as the corner of Klaus’ mouth twisted upwards in the tiniest ghost of a grin. Dave pulled his lips away to pepper a trail of feather light kisses along Klaus’ neck and jawline, ending just below his ear. His chest rising and falling heavily, Klaus tilted his head to give Dave more access and, encouraged, Dave tentatively took the lobe of Klaus’ ear into his mouth and sucked. Klaus’ breathing faltered and suddenly Dave could feel the sweet bite of blunt nails raking down the back of his neck. Klaus brought their lips back together and this time, Dave could feel the build and the urgency behind Klaus’ movements.

Someone cleared their throat.

The moment broke and Klaus and Dave pulled back slightly, still only inches apart. Their eyes met and the look they shared was somehow so familiar, but also so new, so foreign. Dave thought he saw joy, excitement and anticipation written on Klaus’ face, but also a hint of fear. Klaus’ shoulders heaved as he tried to steady his breathing. Quickly, his eyes flashed down to Dave’s lips and then back up again. Dave raised an eyebrow at him and Klaus replied with a small shrug of the shoulders and a sheepish, almost apologetic little half smile. It was then that Dave’s face cracked into the wide smile of sheer, unbridled happiness and a second later Klaus was grinning too, and winking at him, and taking Dave’s hand in his own and squeezing. Dave squeezed back. Then Klaus and Dave turned, hand in hand, to greet the surprised reaction of their friends and family.

#klave #klaus hargreeves #dave katz #klaus/dave #klaus x dave #the umbrella academy

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isafalco · 4 years ago

Text

THE FINAL BATTLE

Location: The Barn

Summary: The wolves fight Merci in one epic final battle

Involved: Literally everyone

@cash-stone, @mehtawolf, @presleystone, @codiemohren, @luciolontoc, @isafalco, @puckrigby, @peytonavery, @reyessalex, @erickaholloway, @vesperlinwood

Merci:

Merci stands at the end of the barn, with her hands on her hips, sizing up the empty space where her hose had been once. She lets out a frustrated sigh, and pivots on her shoe to turn back toward the exit, when the door opens. Two people come through it first. Cash and Moll. Followed almost immediately by Vesper with Salem, and Ericka. "I wasn't expecting visitors," Merci says with a tilt of her jaw. She doesn't know the social comings and goings of the manor enough to know that this is a strange combination of people. "Have any of you seen my horse?"

Cash:

He wasn't expecting to run into a vampire already in the barn itself. The vampire seems clueless enough, but that will change as more and more people file in. The entire damn manor is heading this way. His heart hammering in his chest, he puts an arm out in front of the group as he slowly funnels them in until he's the only one standing between Merci and the door, never taking her eyes off her. He thinks of Salem standing just feet away. "Your horse ran off," he answers. His throat feels tight with tension. "Don't think it's coming back."

Merci:

"Ran off?" She can't imagine where he'd have gotten to without some help. But even still. She takes two steps forward. And as she does, two more enter the barn. Puck and Codie. And then Cash stands in front of the door, his arm in the way. It's an immediately suspicious gesture. Merci's eyebrow raises. "What is this?"

Blair:

Riva might not be very big, but dead weight is still dead weight, and Blair has just been tased basically. There seems to be some kind of block in the doorway, and in her irritation, she shoves her way into the barn, nearly dropping the unconscious witch as she stumbles into Cash's back while the rest of the witches and wolves stream in behind her. Her eyes fall on Merci and flick to Cash, and she turns on a dime. Riva's body is haphazardly shoved towards Moll. "Stay back!" she shouts at them. "Cash, just like training." She goes for Merci's legs, hoping that she still has the element of surprise to get the vampire off balance.

Merci:

Merci is only staring at the scene in front of her, trying to parse why all of these people would be coming into the barn in this way. Something with the wolves, maybe. Though the full moon was recent. And then -- one of them yells, moves fast. But Merci is a vampire. She moves faster. She pulls the wolf up from where attacks, before she can reach her legs, lifting her by her hair to her feet and then wrapping her hands around the girl's throat, holding her feet off the ground. All so fast it is barely visible by anyone until Blair is in the air and Merci's hand is around her night. She narrows her eyes on Cash, as behind him the last of the escapees -- Alex and Peyton holding up haven, enter the barn. "I repeat. What is this?"

Cash:

"No, Blair––" He reaches for her, but his feet don't even move by the time Merci already has Blair in the air by the throat. Seeing how fast the vampire can move puts his senses on high alert and he becomes hyper aware of just how many people are now standing in the barn. Slowly, his eyes locked with Merci's, he lowers his arm. "Nico wanted us out of the manor, miss. Said he was done hiding out and wanted some entertainment with the others. Something big, for his wife. Silas is going to be here any second to make sure we all stay in the barn. But they've all been rough with us on the way out. We're all on edge."

Lucio:

They're all threading very dangerous waters, following Cash and Blair to the barn like they're in line for their execution. And Merci, standing there like the executioner about to pounce at the first sight of a threat. His first instinct, after Blair launches herself at Merci and Cash tries his best to diffuse the situation, is to pull Theo closer to him, who he's been holding hands with this entire time. But he knows her, the last thing he wants is someone to provoke Merci... So he covers her mouth with his hand, makes sure they're somewhat hidden in the middle of the small crowd and he looks at her with warning eyes and shakes his head at her.(edited)

Vesper:

The moment passes faster than she can comprehend, and Vesper hates how things always seem so slow when the vampires are involved. Salem is in her arms, and she tucks her close, angling her body so that there is at least one more body between the vampire and the child. Her heart is beating like a drum, and her limbs still ache from the ritual they had done to create the hand of glory. But doesn't dare to even breathe, as though she might attract Merci's attention and put Salem in even more danger.

Codie:

Codie's heart is in her throat the entire way from the manor to the barn. She can hear Cash trying to speak and then she's in the barn with the rest of the people who weren't supposed to fight and another vampire. She just feels sick. The moment Blair leaps, she takes a half-step back, almost on top of Puck, anything to put distance between her and the way her feet dangle in the air like a rag doll. They're nothing to these things, and Codie knows she's no use here.

Merci:

It's a reasonable enough explanation. Her sire and her family toying with the remaining inhabitants of the manor. And yet the angry girl dangling in her arms and the tension in all of their presences suggests otherwise. She watches, for another minute and then, fast and hard throws Blair as hard as she can onto the small loft catwalk that encircles the bond. She crashes through the thin wooden railing and into a heap against the wall. And just as she does, Merci hears a loud crash inside. And Thomas -- scream Silas's name. Now Merci needs to make a run for it. "Move."(edited)

Cash:

Cash tries hard not to react to Blair being flung farther than any other non-magical being on earth could throw another person. Just the wrong look, the wrong response, and they'd all be slaughtered. But now Merci has a goal and he's in the way. The only thing that may still be on their side, perhaps for another few precious seconds, is the lone vampire not knowing that the 'no killing' rule has gone to shit. He shakes his head at Merci and responds softly, but firmly. "I can't let you do that."

Merci:

It's brave. Noble. But Annoying. So annoying. So Merci reaches forward, grabs him by the shirt and tosses the wolf clean across the barn into a stall. He's bigger, thuds louder. And when she turns, there's another boy.

Puck:

Puck stands beside Cody, Ericka at his other side. And he doesn't know what to do. They're not strong. He can't fight. And yet -- "Hey, Cruella." It's unhelpful but it stops the vampire from stalking after Cash. Puck stands goes to step in her way and she moves at vampire speed, grabbing him by the throat and holding him far above her head as she squeezes. Squeezes. Puck's mouth gasps for air, he scrambles, hands searching for a grip to get her hands off. But she's so strong for someone who seems barely taller than him.

Codie:

Blair flies, then Cash, and Codie knows that if something doesn't give soon, they're all going to die right here and now. But she's frozen, eyes flitting back and forth between Cash and Merci, unable to bring herself to break the vow she'd made. For the first time, she finds she wants to do something but-- She doesn't have time to sit and analyze and wonder about why she wants to jump in, why she knows she won't because Puck is jumping in. The next few seconds seem to freeze as she watches the vampire's grip squeeze around his throat, and she watches the whites of his eyes turn bloodshoot. She almost jumps. Hesitates. He gasps for air, strangled and horrible, and she finally does, mimicking Blair's stance, but goes straight for her front and arm to hopefully try and knock her grip loose.

Cash:

Wood splinters in his landing beneath his body, but he's back on his feet in seconds, albeit a little disoriented. When he twirls around, everything's already falling apart. Merci has a witch by the throat and Codie's trying to get him free. Cash kicks the wooden gate he was thrown into and picks up a piece of it, long and sharp enough to be used as a stake. Propelling off the balls of his feet, he charges Merci from behind, raises the piece of wood above his head, and strikes down as hard as he can. The wooden point pierces skin and flesh and buries in Merci's back, but just misses her heart.

Merci:

As soon as the wood hits her back, Merci drops puck and turns around, swinging a fist square into Cash's face with vampire strength and sending him backward. Puck falls to a heap at her feet. She staggers a few steps away back toward the center of the barn and then pulls the stake out of her own back.

Blair:

Blair crashes through what feels like at least six pieces of wood, and she shakes out the ringing in her ears. The fight has begun in earnest, and it takes half a second for her to clock the situation. There is plenty of broken pieces of wood around her and she grabs one without hesitation. Blair jumps down from the catwalk, rolling neatly and using her momentum to barrel straight into Merci's body. Her ribs scream in protest as she raises her arm and stabs down, only send the stake into the vampire's shoulder as she fights back.

Merci:

Another stake sticks into her shoulder and Merci screams out. She swings fast again, tossing the girl that's on her back to the ground with the momentum and decking her square in the face too. She stops again, pulls the second stake of wood from her shoulder and this time, makes her way as fast her speed will allow her, toward the door.

Peyton:

The fight escalates. And escalates, and Blair and Cash get injured in the process -- she knows, in that moment, that she can't possibly let Merci escape without trying to stop her. She thinks of the people inside the manor and if she listens just close enough, she swears she can hear something breaking in the distance. She turns back from the manor and looks at Alex, then at Merci who yells out in pain. "Alex". She whispers. "Remember that frat party in college, that guy who got gropey and we tackled him in that room..." She doesn't elaborate more, but she points towards the door, right when Merci tries to swoosh past them. Peyton blocks her path and gets her arms around Merci's waist, but she's stronger -- without Alex's help, she'll just drag her along.

Alex:

Alex's full focus is on Haven. Making sure she's safe, because she's in no state to fight. And as long as she and Peyton stay there, working on making sure Haven is alright, they're all safe. But she knows that isn't true, knows the fight will come to them. She's no stranger to ignoring violence but it becomes impossible. Peyton's story draws her attention and she nods. She remembers. They'd tackled him and then when the football team had taken too long to come get one of their own, they'd blocked the door. Alex shoots to her feet just behind Peyton, who shoots up in front of the vampire. And with her own new, barely controlled strength and a flash of fangs, Alex grabs Merci and launches her in the air across the barn.

Presley:

Presley clears the space between the house and the barn at a full sprint. She catches a flash in the doorway, blonde hair and she swears she sees Merci but she's moving too fast. In a second, she's through the door, through the small crowd. She looks at all of them, growls low and warning. It means stay out of the way. Merci sees her and scrambles to her feet. Presley growls and lunges, and within seconds, they're tangled in a fight that no one can keep up with. At every chance she gets, Presley bites down, again and again, any piece of skin she can make contact with, trying to ensure that no matter what happens, the vampire ends up poisoned. But despite the loss of strength, Merci gets in a good hit. Presley's back hits the edge of the stall with a loud yelp. And before she gets back on her feet, Merci lunges for Blair.

Ericka:

The fight is escalating and the tension within the group trying to stay out of the way is exhausting. Since the moment Merci picked up the guy who gave her the finger guns back at the library, Ericka has been on her hands and knees with her eyes closed, searching for something in the ground, underneath the barn, with her magic. She finds something, a network of tree roots and just a small distance from the barn towards the forest, some vines. She draws them out, summoning them forth, but her concentration is broken when a wolf comes barreling into the barn and starts snapping at the vampire. The wolf whose coat can only belong to Presley Stone gets flung into the wall and Merci turns her attention to Blair who appears to be on their team now. Ericka huffs, takes a few steps forward away from the group, and holds her hands out in front of her towards Merci, fingers clawed, remembering the night that she definitely attacked Presley. Through the spaces in the floorboard, vines whip up and wrap themselves around Merci's ankles, calves, thighs, wrists, anything they could reach to slow her down.

Presley:

Ericka helps. She gives Presley the time she needs to get back to her feet before Merci can hurt anyone else -- hurt Blair again. The vines come up from the floor boards, wrap around Merci and take her down. They only hold for a second with Merci's super strength but it's enough. As soon as Merci breaks free, she grabs Ericka, holds her by her throat in front of her and stares down Presley who freezes where she stands. Presley growls, paces closer, backs her up and up as Merci tries to make her mistake, no shielded by the other witch. it's a smart move, an easy way to get free because Presley won't endanger Erick. But it also helps Presley get Merci out of the barn, away from the others, so she takes it, growls again, paces forward, again and again, until they clear the door back into the yard.

Isa:

She can hear and see the commotion inside the barn, but she can't get a clear shot. The windows aren't big enough, even the glimpses she catches of Cash and Blair getting thrown around inside like rag dolls. All she can think about, while the witches and the wolves deal with the unexpected, is Presley's whereabouts, even when she keeps a close eye through the scope, in case she can get a clear view of the back of Merci's head. Or heart. Its not until she sees that speckle of blonde dash through the yard towards the barn that relief washes over her, even if it mixes with her fear of Presley being hurt once again, defending magic and every single witch in that house. She counts the seconds. Ten, twenty, thirty -- no one comes out, the commotion gets louder, she can hear Presley's snarls even from the roof, and then it comes. Merci, dashing out the door clearly poisoned with bites on her body, holding Ericka like a human shield. Through the scope, she gives Presley a glance, and then she gets down on one knee. She's not very fast, with the poison running through her veins, but its fast enough to pull Isa's focus. "Come on motherfucker, keep going". And then, the shot. It resounds through the vast property of Carden Manor, but it travels lightning fast towards the front of Merci's head, right through the forehead. If this were any human, witch, or werewolf, they'd be down on their knees, dead. But for Merci, its a painful inconvenience, but inconvenient enough that when she angrily drops Erick to the ground to grab her head as she yells out in pain, Isa cocks and loads the rifle one more time. Then.... Another shot. This one hits her chest and she cocks the gun at the ready to fire again in case she'd missed (she never misses). The vampires stiffens, she hears something like a breath caught in her throat, and her body falls with an audible thump on the ground, rock solid... desiccated. Isa lowers her rifle and looks at Presley from the top of the roof.

Presley:

Presley Stone has only ever killed once. The Compound. She hadn't thought about it as she'd prepared for this. She hadn't thought about how she's not a killer, not prone to violence, not angry and consumed by emotion -- not ever. She hadn't thought about the place where duty mixes with humanity, not until she's growling, with her paws on the ground and she hears a gun shot and another and Merci drops. -- isa. If she were human she'd be grinning, ear to ear, proud at how well this had come together, at them as a team. But she's not human right now and it isn't over. Because under the duty to protect the people in the barn is the duty to make sure that this vampire never sees the light of day again. She snarls once, and lunges, one clear shot at the vampires throat. She doesn't mutilate, doesn't make one single bite further than what is necessary. And when it's finished, she howls, low and clear toward the sky, a thank you to Isa, before she stalks back into the barn, blood on her nose, and sits, firm and steady in the doorway, facing the outside.

#posting this from isa but feel free to reblog it

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ray-ray-writings · 5 years ago

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Suite Life-- Make Up

Here’s Part Two to this preference: Break up

Find my Masterlist Here

Zack: “Babe,” Bailey sighed from her position at the foot of my bed, “It’s been three days. You have to get out of this room.” I pouted, knowing she was right. It had been three days since Zack and I broke up. Just because I broke up with him because he was flirting with other girls doesn’t make me miss him any less. “I know.” I sighed, snuggling deeper under my covers, “How about you let me finish out this day and we’ll get a fresh start tomorrow, and if I refuse you have permission to drag my whole mattress out of this room.

Bailey let out another sigh but nodded, “Okay. We’ll start fresh tomorrow. I’m going to go down to the cafeteria for dinner, do you want anything?” She asked. “Can you bring me some pizza and something to drink?” I asked. Bailey smiled softly and nodded. “Yeah.” She spoke as she patted my leg. “I’ll be back in a bit. I’ll even bring some popcorn and candy and we can have movie night.” It was my turn to smile softly, “I’d really like that.” Bailey grabbed her phone and made her way out of our room. I was now alone. I rolled over on my side and stared at the door. Maybe I could doze off until Bails comes back. I closed my eyes and allowed my thoughts to take over. Yeah, that didn’t last long as there was a jarring knock on the door. I huffed and hauled myself out of my bed, perhaps Bailey forgot her key or her arms were so full she couldn’t open the door. I giggled at the thought. I placed my hand on the knob and began to open it, “What happened? Did you forget your key? Or did you bring so much-” the words died on the tip of my tongue when I saw who was actually at my door. Zack stood before me, one hand on his hip the other scratching the back of his head. “Oh, it’s you.” I stated coldly. “Well, thanks for stopping by.” I said as I began to close the door. “No, Y/N wait please.” Zack begged as he put his foot in the doorway. I huffed at him, “What?” “Please let me talk.” Zack begged with pleading eyes. It was then I noticed the dark purple bags under his eyes and his sunken expression. I sighed and rolled my eyes. I let go of the door and crossed my arms in front of me. “You have two minutes.” I huffed out. “Thank you.” Zack sighed in relief.

“You broke up with me because I was flirting with girls.” “Way to state the obvious” I mused. “But it was more than that. Okay that sounds bad. No, what I mean is that there was a good reason I was flirting. Okay that’s even worse.” “Minute and a half.” I prompted. Zack ran a hand over his face, “I’m just going to say it. I flirt with girls because they give me money.” I perked an eyebrow at his confession. “Excuse me.” Zack groaned at his words. “Girls, for some reason, find me attractive, so they flirt with me. When I flirt back they leave me huge tips. Like sometimes $8-10.” “Okay but why would you need that much money if you already have a good paying job?” Zack looked at the ground. “I was… I am saving up for something.” He mumbled. I sighed and hugged myself tighter, “Okay cool. Are you done now? Bailey’s coming back with pizza soon.” I informed him. “I was saving up to get you a gift.” Zack blurted. My demeanor shifted, “Oh,” I uttered softly, “Why?” I questioned. Zack sighed, “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. I wanted to get you something to show you how much you mean to me. So in order to do that, I needed a little more cash, hence the flirting. But of course, I was so stupid and blind, I didn’t realized how fucked up that was and how much that would hurt you. I’m so sorry.” Zack admitted. We stood there for a couple of beats. “I don’t know what you want me to do here Zack. I still love you but I don’t want to get hurt like that again. You don’t need to get me fancy gifts to show me you love me. Just being with me is enough. Watch a movie, baking brownies, hell even just flirting with me. That’s all I need.” I confessed. Zack reached into his pocket and pulled out a slender box. He opened it and in it was a beautiful diamond necklace, “Oh Zack,” I gasped, reaching out for it. “I know I messed up. I know you probably don’t want me back. But if you’d have me, I’d really like another chance. I promise no more flirting with girls that aren’t you, and if I need more cash for some reason, I’ll talk to you about it. I still love you Y/N and I you said you love me too. So what do you say, take me back?” Zack rambled. I stared at Zack for a moment before giving him a soft smile, “Okay.” I answered. Zack went wide eyed, “Really.” I giggled and nodded. Zack rushed forward and wrapped me up in a big hug. “Thank the Lord.” He pulled out of the hug and made me do a 180. I lifted up my hair and let him clip the necklace in place. “Perfect” I spun back around and wrapped my arms around his neck. I pressed a small kiss to his lips and then pulled away. I placed my hands on his shoulders and pushed him away from me, “However, if you do ever pull that kind of stunt again, I will castrate you and then I’ll have Bailey chop off your head.” I threatened. Zack gulped at my words. He was about to answer, but another voice cut him off. “She’s right.” Bailey had returned with my food and our popcorn. “Now, move. You may have gotten back together with her but we’re having a movie night. So you can see her tomorrow but for now she’s mine.” Zack opened his mouth to protest but Bailey cut him off by closing the door in his face. Bailey turned to me and handed me my plate and cup. “Now I’m going to be honest, I’m glad you’re back together, y’all are a cute couple.” I laughed at Bailey’s confession. “You know Bails,” I began, “One day we could be related.” Bailey’s face went red. She gently shoved me, “Yeah, yeah. So what are we watching?”

Cody: I sighed as I walked across the open deck. I had been thinking a lot about Cody and what he said about my writing. I know I shouldn’t let it get to me, but I can’t help it. What if he’s right, what if my dream is stupid and I never become a famous writer? I sighed and tucked the folder I was carrying further into my chest. Inside the folder, you ask? Loose leaf print outs of my writing so that I can read them in a different format and make physical notes on them. I was going to actually sit outside for once and go through them but I decided not to at the last second. Anyway, I was so deep in thought that I didn’t even notice another body coming toward me until it was too late. In my surprise, my hand loosened causing my folder to fall out of my grasp, hit the ground, and scatter my papers everywhere. Immediately I bent down and began to pick everything up. “Oh gosh. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.” The other person bent down and began to help me. They opened their mouth and the all too familiar voice froze me in my tracks. “Oh no, you’re fine. I wasn’t paying attention either. It’s my fault.” I cleared my throat and began to pick everything up faster. Soon I had most of it back in my folder, all that was left was those papers in Cody’s hand. I quickly reached to pull the papers away from him, but he moved away. “Y/N, did you write this?” He questioned, eyes scanning over the words. I crossed my arms in front of me, “Maybe. Why do you care. Gonna tell me it sucks?” I huffed. Cody looked up, a sad look in his eye. “Y/N. This is really good.” my face turned red at the compliment. “Thanks.” I muttered. “No, I mean it. Like really good. I’ve actually been looking for you.” Cody stated softly. “Okay.” I said, reaching out for my papers again and once again not succeeding. “Seriously. What I said the other day. It came out all wrong. My mom had, has, a dream. She wanted to be this famous singer and that’s what she put all her time into. Then she and my dad had me and Zack then the only thing she could get was the gig at the hotel. She raised us single handedly, struggling on the way. I never want you to struggle. I am so in love with you and the thought of you failing and not getting what you want is like my worst nightmares. I said you needed to focus on something more real, You needed a Plan B.” Cody explained. I nodded at his words, “Someone once told me that if you have a plan B, then you actually only have a plan A and it’s not the one you want it to be. Because you have to focus on your “plan b” so much it becomes your plan A and your original plan A gets lost.” I chimed. “And I know this now. I should have been more supportive. I should have encouraged this instead of trying to tear it down because you have a real gift. This is something you need to chase, and I’d like to be there every step of the way, if you would let me.” Cody expressed. Cody and I stood there for a moment just looking at each other before I nodded. “I would like that to. I love you too Cody.” I rushed and closed the gap between us, crushing my lips on his, wrapping my arms around his body pulling him close. “Thank God.” I heard Cody breathe out. We stood there for a while, just enamored in each others arms. “You wanna maybe go back to your room and you can show me more of your writing?” inquired Cody. I let out a little giggle. “Well I’m not sure about that, but I would love to go back to my room with you.” I bubbled. Cody wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. I gasped and smacked his shoulders. “Not like that you freak,” I giggled. Cody laughed with me, “I know. I just missed teasing you.” I rolled my eyes, “Yeah okay. Now let’s go,” I urged, grabbing his wrists and pulling him towards my dorm. Before we got far, Cody grabbed my arms and held me in place, “What are you do-” my question was cut off by Cody’s lips hitting mine. I quickly kissed back, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, his moved around my waist. After a couple of beats, Cody pulled back with a loopy grin playing on his lips, “I really missed that.” I pecked his lips once more, “Me too babe. Me too.”

Bailey: I sighed as I pushed opened Ms. Tutweiller’s office door. I got an email from her asking me to meet her because she wanted to talk to me about my homework or whatever. I didn’t want to be here though. I want to be cuddled up in bed, with a tub of ice cream and sad movies so my tears feel verified (I wanted to put a different word here but I could not for the life of me think of what it was). But alas, I was here, about to talk about heaven knows what. “Hey Ms. Tutweiller, what did you want to talk-- what are you doing here?” I questioned my ex-girlfriend. Bailey sat behind Ms. T’s desk with a nervous smile. “Hi Y/N.” “Hi. I came here to have a meeting with Ms. Tutweiller but seeing as you’re here, I’ll reschedule.” I deadpanned before turning around and starting to walk out. “No! Wait!” I heard Bailey yell before I felt her hand on my wrist. I got spun around to face her. “I asked Mrs. Tutweiller to set up a fake meeting with you to get here so I could apologize to you.” I rose my eyebrow at her words. “I’m sorry. The day I broke up with you, I had gotten news that my oldest, most favorite cow had passed away. We had had Betty literally since I was born. When I got picked on for being the weird girl, she was there. When I heard she died, I was so pissed and upset. I got so homesick. I missed it, I wasn’t there when she had always been there for me.” I stared at Bailey with loving eyes, “Oh Bails.” I sighed as I brought her in my arms. “I just got so angry and I took it out on you. I’m so sorry. I’m hoping you’ll take me back.” “Of course. I just wish you would have talked to me about it. I’m always going to be here for you, I wish you could just see that. I forgive you, just next time try and talk to me.” Bailey smushed her face into my neck further, “I promise. I love you.” “I love you too.”

London: I rolled my eyes as another text from London came through. What part of “break up” did she not understand? She’s the one that excitedly agree to us no longer being together then ran away. I clicked the off button on my phone and rolled over in my bed, ignoring the further buzzing. Finally, after quite a bit of time, my phone stopped buzzing. I closed my eyes, fully intending on getting in a nap, but my dorm door flew open. “London, what are you doing here?” London crossed her arms and huffed, “What was I supposed to do, my girlfriend kept leaving me on read and sending me to voicemail.” I scoffed at her words, “Girlfriend? London, we’re not girlfriends anymore. We broke up remember?” London had a panicked face, “What? We broke up? When?” I rolled my eyes at her, “The day I was eating ice cream on the deck. You were telling me that I didn’t need the help to look fat and bloated and that some days you felt embarrassed to be seen with me. So I said, ‘If you feel that way maybe we should break up.’ and you, very excitedly said, ‘Break up over ice cream! That sounds amazing.’ So we’re broken up, remember?” London’s face became confused, “Wait, you think I wanted to break up? No! That was the last thing I wanted. I was talking to myself. Any dairy makes me feel awful and I look bloated. I feel embarrassed to be seen with you because you always look so good, even when you’re not trying and it makes me so jealous. Me agree to break up was me agreeing that breaking up chocolate chip cookies over ice cream was an amazing idea, not us no longer dating.” London explained. I let out a soft, “Oh,” London sat down on my bed next to my chest. “I’m really sorry that my meaning got lost in translation and I didn’t explain further. I promise I’ll make it up to you, but for now can we cuddle? I would really like to spend some time with my girlfriend right now.” I giggled and scooted back, opening the blanket and my arms for her to join me. “Okay, I guess I’ll forgive you.” I said as London joined me in the bed. I kissed her forehead, “Just so you know, you also always look amazing in everything and I love you.” London kissed my forehead in response, “I love you too.”

Woody: “I know I shouldn’t have been that upset but the things he was saying just made me so mad.” I ranted to my sister. “No sweetie, you had every right to get angry. I know that you get compared to me a lot and I hate it. You’re your own person and you don’t have to be anything like me.” Bailey ranted back. I nodded at her words. “I love you Bails.” I spoke, she smiled and took my hands, “I love you too.” There was a knock on our door. “Come in,” Bails called out. The door opened and there stood my ex. “Oh hell no.” Bails said standing up and walking toward the door. “Get out. Now.” She said, pushing him out the door. “Wait! Please! I need to talk to Y/N.” Woody begged. Bailey rolled her eyes, “You lost that right when you compared her to me.” Bailey hissed. Woody caught my eye and made me melt, “Please,” He spoke in a broken voice. “Bails.” I simply said and she stopped and looked at me. “You have one minute. Go.” Woody immediately jumped into his explanation. “I’ve never been in a relationship before. Cody’s relationship was the only one I was ever really exposed and so that’s what I’ve thought of a healthy relationship. That’s why I always compared, cause I thought I was doing something wrong.” Woody explained. I sighed at his words, “Woody there are many types of healthy relationships, but comparing one to another isn’t healthy at all. As you can see, all it does is cause a riff between the two.” Woody kneeled at the edge of my bed, “And I know that now. Please forgive my ignorance and take me back.” I looked up at Bailey and we had a silent conversation. “Okay, but if you ever compare the two of us again in that way, you’re going to regret it.” “Okay. Anything you say.” Woody said getting up slightly and pressing a kiss to my lips. I giggled at his response. “Okay. That’s good. I kind of missed you Woods.” I joked. Woody pulled away and chuckled. “That’s good because I missed you a lot.

Maddie: I had spent the last couple of days watching a lot of TV shows and movies. I had been trying to keep myself busy so I didn’t think about Maddie and our break up. I think I did the right thing. I mean why keep going if we never see each other or hang out. It doesn’t make it hurt any less. My binging was interrupted by a knock on the front door. I sighed, rolled my eyes, and got up to answer the door. I swung the door open and came face to face with the girl I was trying not to think about. “Hey.” Maddie said softly. “Hi.” I greeted a little coldly. “I brought something.” Maddie jumped right to the point. “Great.” I deadpanned. I thought it would be everything I ever gave her, hoodies, pants, gifts. Boy was I wrong. Maddie then pulled out a poster with words on it. However, some of the words were candy. “If I had a 100 Grand I’d take you on a shopping Spree to New York. Thank you for Mounds of conversations, millions of Snickers, and being a huge Nerd with me. I’m Extra sorry and I hope you can forgive this Dum-Dum Airhead for letting the best thing I had, go.” I giggled at the poster. “Maddie this is sweet.” “Well duh, it’s candy.” We had a good laugh about that joke. “But in all seriousness Y/N. I don’t want to be single, I want to be girlfriend that go on dates. Please, give me another chance, I promise I’m going to make more of an effort to be there for you, for our dates, because I really want this relationship and I really want you.” I rushed forward and threw myself in her arms. “I love you Mads and I really want that too, but I really don’t want to get hurt again.” “I promise you won’t. I swear I’ll do better and be better. And if I don’t, you have permission to chop off my head.” We let out a hearty laugh at that. We pulled back a little bit and I nodded “Okay. One more chance, don’t blow it.” Maddie hugged me tighter, “I promise I won’t”

Hello! I hope these were okay and you enjoyed! Be sure to leave a like and maybe even a comment, I would definitely appreciate it!

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minkiesims · 5 years ago

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The first round starts and Nathan and Aurora get climbing. The wall rotates as they get higher. Who will fall first?

They climb for a few minutes until Aurora loses her grip. One wobbly hand grab and she comes tumbling down.

The Islanders all gasp and clap for Nathan, who jumps down and helps up Aurora. She rises to her feet and fixes her hair. Nathan won, he runs back to the villa as Aurora steps to the loosing side of the deck.

Next up is Elliot and Raphael. Awkward that they’ve been paired up, giving the fact they are coupled up.

They don’t last too long, after only 30 seconds Elliot falls. Raphael runs over to his aid, but luckily he’s fine. They share a cute little hug as Raphael wishes Elliot good luck for the rest of the challenge, then they head their separate ways. Raphael heads home and Elliot steps to the losers side.

The next few couples go head to head. Connor and Minkie face each other, with Minkie falling straight away. And Codi and Georgia face off. Codi wins, but Georgia holds out for a while before falling.

Minkie and Georgia both hug their flats and head to the loses side.

Next up is Jade vs Isaac.

Jade doesn’t last long. She slips and falls after only a few seconds. Isaac doesn’t realise this though and keeps on climbing until someone tells him to stop. Isaac heads home and Jade steps to the side.

So far the losers are: Georgia, Minkie, Elliot, Aurora and now Jade. Let’s find out who will join them.

#Sims Love Island #sims 4 gameplay #ts4 story #ts4 #sims #sims 4 #simblr #love island #week2day3

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prairiesongserial · 4 years ago

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11.13

The sun had slipped down towards the horizon while Cody hadn’t been paying attention, sometime between sitting down to lunch with Madeline and Fleetwood and being toured around the rest of the Bellamy mansion, trailing behind Madeline as she took care of various errands. It was nearly dark outside by the time the three of them left the house, hopping onto a ferry much like the one Cody had taken that morning to make their way back onto the giant steamboat where the circus was getting ready to perform. The tides had gone out, and a line of caves seemed to have appeared out of the shadows, great jagged shapes that jutted out over the horizon.

The steamboat now gleamed in the dim light of the evening, its decks strung up with bright, twinkling lights and adorned with the colorful fabrics and tents of the circus. Each deck was awash with activity - performers in loud outfits bustling this way and that, at least one of them carrying an armful of swords; men in Bellamy uniforms scattered around in groups, conversing or licking ice cream cones. The air was thick with a strange mix of sugar and sea salt, the noise almost overwhelming compared to the dour silence of the Bellamy estate.

Cody scanned the crowd for John, Friday, or Val as Fleetwood herded him onto the boat, but he couldn’t find them - they were behind the scenes somewhere, he assumed. Johannes didn’t seem to be around, either. Cody caught a glimpse of Enis dashing across the deck, toolbox in hand, and saw Ezra conversing grimly with a group of clowns, but there was no sign of the ringmaster himself.

“Isn’t this delightful?” Madeline asked, twirling in place and clasping her hands in front of her. “I think I’m going to get my fortune read. The fortune teller was so charming the last time I saw her. She said I had a lovely heart line.”

Fleetwood caught Cody’s eye with an expression that very clearly communicated the extent of her belief in fortune tellers, and said “Sure, Madeline.”

“Do you think they brought the animals onto the boat? Last time they had horses, and a dog show,” Madeline said, her eyes starrily reflecting the lights strung up around her. She had changed her outfit before leaving the mansion, and now wore a sleeker dress made of metallic purple fabric that would have looked at home on any of the circus performers’ costumes.

“How did they get a horse on the boat?” Fleetwood asked in bemusement.

Madeline either didn’t have an answer, or didn’t see fit to give one. Instead, she smiled at Fleetwood, taking her bodyguard by the hand and tugging her along at a faster pace across the deck of the boat. Cody quickened his own pace to keep up, dodging performers and weaving around Bellamys, still searching every face that passed him for a sign of John.

“That’s right, Fleetwood, you weren’t here the last time the circus came,” Madeline chirped, now sounding practically giddy with excitement. “You’ve never seen them at all, have you?”

“I know what a circus is,” Fleetwood said flatly.

“Knowing what it is and experiencing it are different,” Madeline said, glancing over her shoulder. “Tell her, Cody.”

“I guess,” Cody said, feeling put on the spot. “I’ve never experienced the circus either. I just joined.”

“Well!” Madeline clapped her hands again, letting go of Fleetwood, who looked rather relieved to be let go of. “You two have plenty to see, then! I’m going to buy candy floss for whoever wants some, and then we’ll all three get our fortunes told. And I’ll say hello to Mother at some point, I know she’s been around here managing people all day.”

They had reached one of the indoor portions of the boat. The sugar aroma Cody had been smelling wafted out from it strongly, underscored by the savory, greasy scent of fried dough, and something salty that wasn’t the water beneath the boat. The air was even thicker in the interior room, so humid that it was hard to breathe, and the entire space was lined with brightly colored stalls manned by carnies selling brightly colored foods.

Madeline stepped up to one of the stalls with very little hesitation, digging a handful of silver from the purse slung over her shoulder and ordering what Cody supposed was the candy floss she’d mentioned. The carnie at the stall, a heavyset woman with an arm that split into two separate arms at the elbow, pocketed the money and winked at Madeline as she began the process of actually making the floss. It was fascinating to watch - the woman took a paper cone in each of the hands attached to her split forearm, and swirled them in loose circles inside a machine with an open top that shook and rattled and sounded like the engine of a truck. As Cody watched, the paper cones accumulated wisps of what he assumed was sugar, until the wisps had netted completely around them in a thick, pink spider’s web.

“Here,” Madeline said, handing out the cones to Cody and Fleetwood, once the woman had finished them. “You two try it. I’ll wait for mine.”

Fleetwood gave the candy floss in her hand a mistrustful look, like it had offended her somehow. Cody couldn’t blame her. It was hard to trust a food that was so pink. The unnatural color reminded him of the radioactive glow of the Mississippi.

Tentatively, Cody took a bite of the candy floss. It felt like biting into a mouthful of cotton - and then it dissolved in his mouth almost instantly, coating his tongue with the taste of pure sugar. He must have made a face, because Madeline laughed. He glanced up to see her smiling at him. She was holding her own cone of candy floss, now, and grabbing for Fleetwood’s hand again with her free one, urging the group away from the stall and farther into the steamboat’s interior.

“Isn’t it good?” Madeline asked, raising her voice to be heard over the pops and sizzles of food cooking, and the sound of the carnies shouting to one another.

“I don’t know,” Cody said, honestly.

Fleetwood grunted in agreement, though she had somehow already devoured half of hers.

“Well, it’s one of my favorites, although I suppose it might be too sweet for some people,” Madeline said. They were emerging outside again, on the opposite deck from where they’d boarded. A gaggle of Bellamy couriers with red vests that matched Cody’s were chatting amongst themselves and smoking cigarettes near the railing of the boat, but fell silent at the sight of Madeline - or perhaps the sight of Fleetwood. Several of them nudged one courier in particular, a lanky young man with a face pockmarked by acne.

“Uh, Miss Fleetwood, ma’am,” he said, taking a step forward, his voice cracking horribly over Fleetwood’s name. There was a smoldering cigarette between his fingers, and he tossed it overboard quickly, letting the water extinguish it.

Fleetwood eyed him, still eating the last of her candy floss. “What do you want?”

“Well, I was - Mrs. Rhea sent me to find you,” the courier said, shifting nervously from foot to foot. Even in the low lighting, Cody could see the flush that was spreading across his cheeks.

“You sure took your time, then,” Fleetwood said flatly. “What’ve you got for me? Spit it out.”

The courier grimaced. “Somebody tripped an alarm at the courthouse. It might be nothing, but Mrs. Rhea requests you...take care of it. Quietly. She doesn’t want it to ruin anyone’s time at the circus.”

Fleetwood hummed thoughtfully, polishing off her candy floss and tossing the paper cone into the water much in the same way the courier had disposed of his cigarette.

“Guess I’ll take care of it, then,” she said, with an air of finality, turning to go back the way the group had come.

“Oh, Fleetwood, you can’t,” Madeline said, catching her by the hand. “Couldn’t Cody go instead? You’ve never seen the circus, and he works for them. I’m sure he’ll see plenty more shows. And if Mother thinks the alarm is nothing, she must be right.”

Fleetwood made a strained noise, but moved no further.

“I’d prefer to go,” she said, at last.

“Well...you’re my bodyguard, and I don’t think I’m very safe here without you guarding me,” Madeline retorted. Cody could see that she was slowly pulling Fleetwood back towards her, reeling her in like a particularly stubborn fish. “And Cody won’t mind going.” Madeline caught his eye, and quirked an eyebrow. “Right?”

Cody couldn’t have cared less about a break-in at any building the Bellamys owned, but he certainly wasn’t about to tell Madeline that. Not when an opportunity to snoop around a building that might contain important Hemisphere documents had just fallen into his lap. He’d been tired of running back at the Mississippi, and he was still tired of running now. He wanted to know who’d put a bounty out on his head after Ethan’s death. And once he figured that out, he wanted to find them, and figure out what he was going to do about them.

“Sure,” he said aloud, forcing a smile. “I don’t mind. I’ll go right now.”

11.12 || 11.14

#story

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captainsuke · 5 years ago

Text

shorebreak

Deran’s been running since the moment he could walk.

But the first time Deran actually tries to run away - that Craig notices - he’s five. Craig wouldn’t know about it if not for the fact that he’s rooting around the garden looking for his favorite ball that Julia had thrown out the window when Craig wouldn’t stop annoying her with it, instead he finds his little brother knees up to his chin tucked up in his mom’s hydrangeas out by the back fence.

He’s big eyed, staring at Craig with red cheeks, a box of crackers and a little nest out of pilfered beach towels. They stare at each other silently until Craig kind of just shrugs it off, leaves him to it.

That night when dinners served that night and Deran’s chairs empty, Smurf puts her lips together and Craig half nods towards the back fence and dinner continues in a weird silence. But later that night when they’re all supposed to be in bed, Craig watches her crouched out by the pool. He doesn’t know what she says but eventually Deran crawls out crying, throwing himself at Smurf’s lap. Craig ducks back under his covers, turns his back to the window that looks out over the pool, he doesn’t want to know, Deran cries over everything.

He doesn’t stop running, though his running away starts and stops according to how upset Deran is at any one time – in a house with three older brothers, with Julia and Smurf at their bitchiest, it’s hard to keep track of who said what and whose pissed off at who – but a few stand out memorable. The time Pope and Craig find him in a sleeping bag just outside the security gate, glaring at them like they’d been searching for him. The two days he disappears when he’s ten, where Smurf ends up dragging him home from the friends house he’d been lying through his teeth to stay.

The one he remembers most, is the one where he doesn’t find Deran straight away. But he does find Renn, curled up on one of the deck chairs up in the dunes staring out to sea.

“What are you doing out here?” he asks wrapping his arms around him; the wind at night whips across the water and comes in cold, why anyone would be out here without a tonne of blankets and a fire is beyond him,

“He’s over there.” She says instead of answering, nodding her head in the direction of the pier.

“What, who?” He’s so surprised he kind of forgets what he’s doing out, staring at her wrapped in a big hoody and glaring at him as if he broke into her house, not just stumbled upon her at the beach at midnight.

“Little blonde kid, bout yea high?” She puts her hand at a good couple of feet shorter than Deran is, down by her bent knees and Craig snickers, Deran would hate that. “Gotta mean mouth on him for a toddler.”

“He’s like seven,” Craig says, eye searching out the dark shadows beneath the pier, looking for the flash of blonde hair that never hid so well. “What are you doing out here?”

“What’s he doing out here?” Renn snaps back.

Craig shrugs, he thinks he can see the shape that’s his wayward little brother and the worried feeling that had driven him to the beach is seeping away. Deran can freeze for a little longer while he talks to Renn. She’s funny and her hair’s long and silky, and Craig doesn’t quite know what all that means but when she smiles he wants to be the one that makes her do it.

Renn looks back for a long time before finally shrugging and mumbling,”Don’t want to go home.”

She looks like she’s telling the truth, but only the barest part of it, and Craig doesn’t pry further, no one liked being forced to talk about what they didn’t want to.

“You alright?”

She smiles at him, a smaller one than the usual bright sunny one she used at school, but it makes Craig feel good. Another gust of wind batters them and they both hunker down, shoulders hunching against the assault.

“I’m just gonna,” Craig tilts his head towards the pier. “We’ll come right back.”

Renn shrugs like she doesn’t care and Craig thinks about staying, thinks about sitting down beside her, he’s always warm, but he’ll be right back, he’ll just pick up Deran and come right back.

It’s late and the wind under the pier feels extra fucking cold. He doesn’t see him at first, the shape he’d seen from up the beach has moved, but there’s a gleam of eyes and teeth, the soft sound of rustling fabric from deeper up where the pier meets sand, where the space gets smaller and smaller. Small enough for Craig’s idiot brother to hide.

“Come on.” He says to the dark spot.

“No.”

“Come on asshole, we gotta go home, it’s cold.”

“No, m'not going back.”

No, no, No. Deran yells as Craig grabs an ankle and drags him out of his little hidey hole, drags him out into the open where Craig can wrap his arms around him and haul Deran up and completely out to where he can stand.

He gets a fist in his ear for his troubles but with a little bit of rearranging he finds the best position for Deran’s feet and hands to flail around ineffectually,

Deran grabs one of the pier beams as they pass and Craig feels himself jolt back, as he loses his balance in the soft sand and they fall down in the damp. Deran’s scrabbling up, bee-lining for the space Craig doesn’t fit, but he’s trailing a blanket and Craig grabs that, watches as Deran flips backwards into the sand when the blanket pulls tight. He looks like a wet cat as he yanks at the blanket, trying to loose Craig’s hold, but Craig jerks it back and Deran falls face forward into the sand. He comes up spluttering but Craig’s on him quick, wraps his arms around him, sitting in the cold sand and just holds him.

“Come on, calm down, it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay,” he says into Deran’s hair till he’s no longer struggling, no longer swinging fists, just kind of clutching onto Craig’s shirt, burrowing his arms under his hoody.

Eventually, when he’s sure he’s not going to be fighting a hell cat, Craig staggers to his feet, hoisting Deran’s weight up with his own. Craig’s big - everyone tells him that, he towers over his classmates with too long arms and legs – but he struggles for a moment, Deran’s getting bigger too he thinks with a weird sort of sadness.

Craig doesn’t know what he’s doing, he just wants everything to be fine. He can feel an edge grinding his teeth, the sort of feeling that tightens the muscles in his shoulders and makes his hands clench into fists. He needs to get high, mellow himself the fuck out, where the sight of Deran’s big eyes in the dark of the pier, Renn’s blue fingertips don’t make him want to start hitting things til someone hurts worse than they do.

Craig doesn’t want to be that guy, he’s that guy enough when his mom says so. Ever since his last growth spurt that put him slight above eye level with Pope, he’s grown out of the cute little kid no one noticed til he threw sand in someone’s eyes, now he just has to exist and bank guards watch him warily like he’s going to break out a spray can or throw a brick through a window.

His arms tighten around Deran as he walks them back to Renn, walking careful with Deran’s extra weight.

“Come on, we’ll lock my door, I’ll light a blunt and you can try and see if you can actually get any m&ms in my mouth this time.”

Deran sniffles loudly near his ear but he fires back a hot snappy, “Fuck off, I’ll get them all in.”

Craig laughs and can feel Deran’s giggle in the hot breaths on his neck.

Renn’s watching them make their way back up the beach, and Craig tries not to feel too self-conscious.

“Wait!” Deran suddenly yells out, feet kicking out as he straightens up and Craig stops.

“What?” He snaps back, his arms already burn from all of Deran’s wiggling.

Deran bites his lip and looks for all the world like he’s not going to say anything.

Craig gives a big put upon sigh, does a shuffling step like he’s going to keep walking.

“No, wait!” Deran’s wriggling for real now, his weight shifting and making it hard for Craig, his hands start to slip.

Craig shifts his grip, shoves his hands under Deran’s armpits and holds him out at arms length. He can’t hold the stance for long, but it’s worth the effort just to see Deran dangling silently in front of him. He wonders if Renn thinks he’s strong. He is, he thinks. But is that something she likes?

“What?” He asks, gives him a little shake when Deran bites his lip again. “I swear to god, Deran..”

“My lamb! I left it! You made me leave it!” He blurts out. He’s looking back at the pier and Craig sighs. Of course.

He sets Deran down on the ground, then grabs his collar as he tries to make a run for it.

“No, I’ll get it.”

“Him.” Deran corrects and Craig’s eyes roll, it’s a stuffed toy for fucks sake.

“I’ll get him. You say here with Renn.”

“You trusting me with your little brother, Cody?” Renn asks. She sounds amused, he thinks, god Craig hope she’s not angry.

“Watch out for his teeth,” he says with a smile and a shrug, “He bites like a motherfucker.”

Deran’s bottom lip sticks out.

“Don’t run off and make Renn chase you, k?”

“You make me run, and I’ll kick your ass kiddo.” Renn says, her fingers sticking out of the sleeves of her hoody as she does little fingerguns at Deran.

They should be fine, Craig thinks, Renn curled up on the deck chair, Deran with hands full of his blanket, staring at Renn and pretending he’s not.

Renn pokes at Deran with a foot as Craig stalks back to the pier, he hears her ask “What’s got you out here?” as Deran takes a step back.

But he’s not running, not yet. Craig swears to god, he better not run again.

By the time Craig’s back Deran’s moved so he’s crouched at the end of the deckchair, his and Renn’s heads ducked close. It’s weird seeing Deran so close to someone but they’re trying to talk over the sound of the wind and the waves, so maybe the closeness isn’t so strange.

“What?” He asks, catching the tail end of Renn saying something about her mom’s boyfriend and Craig wonders if that has something to do with why she’s out here in the middle of the night.

Renn does a cute little stretch, her feet stretching the fabric of her hoody where they’re tucked up under it, her smile a gleam of teeth in the haze of far off streetlights.

“He’ll be gone soon enough,” She says with a little shrug like she doesn’t care either way, “Mom’s boyfriends never last.”

Smurf was the same, although calling the men she went through boyfriends was more than generous, but she’d never allow any one of them to hurt her sons.

That was solely for her.

He holds out the toy for Deran, staggers when instead he just leaps at Craig and not dropping him takes all his concentration. Once he’s fairly sure he’s not gonna dump him in the sand, Craig looks back up at Renn, whose smiling like he’s clowning just for her, not simply dealing with a bratty little brother.

“You wanna come home too?”

He doesn’t know why he asks, Smurf hates when they bring people home, especially girls. She hates all of Baz’s girlfriends and sometimes Craig thinks maybe Baz does too. Why else would he keep pushing them into Smurf’s face otherwise? Craig likes Renn, he doesn’t want Smurf to make her sad. Maybe he could sneak her in, get her out before Smurf even knows in the morning.

“Oh hell no.” Renn laughs, but it doesn’t sound good like before, just bitter and tired.

Deran stares at her with the one eye he’s not got jammed up against Craig.

Craig hovers, he doesn’t want to leave her, it’s cold and dark, and it’s easy to imagine some crazy guy in a hockey mask just waiting for them to be all alone.

Another gust of wind buffets against them, whipping sand against their legs and Deran curls in closer. Craig loosens his arms, lets Deran hold his own weight for a moment as he fiddles around and manages to awkwardly zip the hoody up over his new barnacle, dragging the zip up until there’s just a mop of blond hair sticking out the top.

“Go home, Cody.” Renn says it like forgiveness and Craig nods.

“See you round.” He says turning away.

“Hey, you forgot this!” Renn yells after he gets a couple of steps away, and Craig turns to see her holding Deran’s blanket up from where he left it on the chair, like Craig’s gonna go back and take it from her.

“Keep it!” He shouts back. “I’ll get it later!”

His legs burn a little as sand changes to pavement, and he sighs, feeling maybe he missed out on something, though he doesn’t know what.

“Sorry.” Deran mumbles into his chest and Craig shrugs.

“Do you think Renn likes m&ms?”

“No, girls are gross.” Deran grumbles, which isn’t an answer at all, because he’s a baby and he sucks.

“You’re gross.” Craig retorts back and laughs as Deran tries to shove him away while trapped under his hoody.

He hefts Deran a bit further up, he’s got a long walk ahead of him but he thinks, maybe he can take m&ms out to Renn tomorrow. Or like leftovers or something, Smurf said she’s making chicken tomorrow night. That’d be cool, get her one of his good fluffy hoodys and some food and they can have like a beach party, but just the two of them. Maybe Renn’ll smile at him again.

#animal kingdom #ak fic #craig cody #deran cody #mine

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