#cody has like ten blankets

[lilaccloudd]

Rex just happens to be in the barracks of the 212th one day and is really curious as to where all the clones got their cool blankets from. Everyone has some form of handmade blanket in various colours and patterns.

Rex: What's up with all the handmade stuff??

Cody: Obi-Wan stress crochets

[mamirhodessxox]

Hello is it possible to get a one shot of Cody Rhodes? The prompt is "Cody comforts the reader when she's on her period"

I have awful cramps and would love something sweet to take my mind off of it. Thank you! 🌸

IS THIS REAL CHAT?? MY FIRST EVER CODY RHODES REQUEST?? RAAAHHH LETS FUCKING GOOO

Chocolate & Blankets

Cody Rhodes x Fem!Feader

Desc: Y/N is on the worst thing a woman could ever possibly experience every month & Cody is right there to comfort her (and be a little annoying.)

Contents: FLUFF, Period pains, Cussing, Soft!Cody, Cody being a perv, just something sweet :)

{~I'm very serious with you guys interacting with my writing!!!! it would make me so happy & excited, the more comments & reposts the more inspiration i have to write :) Votes and comments are strongly appreciated so please COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT COMMEENNTTT the more comments the more content <3!!!~}

Cody hadn’t seen you this bad since like, a few months ago, He stayed downstairs in the kitchen staring at the TV watching some football game and scoffing when the team he rooted for was loosing, You were upstairs sulking in bed as your period had started this morning & it was a whole thing, You threatened to claw off Cody’s face when he squeezed the spot you were cramping in by accident and that’s how he knew. Today was the day to be concerned and loving towards you more than he usually is which you never knew how this tops how he treats you most of the time.

Not only that but this was the WORST week for this to happen, Cody & You were traveling tomorrow to Miami to get ready for this years Summer slam where he would be fighting with Roman Reigns & The rock.

He looked up when you came downstairs with the entire comforter wrapped around you & he had to turn around and cover his mouth from letting out a laugh before making his way to you & engulfing you in his arms “Awh sweetheart..” he snorted a little at how you looked with a whole bed’s worth of comforter around you but you glared “Shut up Cody it comforts me.” He hummed and kissed the top of your head “Anything I can get you sweetheart?” You nodded slowly and flopped onto the couch “Pads & Chocolate.”

Cody’s face dropped with sheer panic which was fair, You usually had pads prepared but you were running out so he had to go out and do the shopping for the first time but he rolled his neck and nodded “Yeah of course. I’ll go uh- I’ll go do that now.” He grabbed his keys and practically ran out of the door while you laid on the couch waiting.

So here he was, in the women’s section of the store, there were ten different pad sizes on the packaging that he got concerned & face-timed you “yes Cody?” You answered “Babe what’s your vagina size?” You went silent and furrowed your eyebrows “Sorry?? I’m not following through what do you mean?@ Cody cleared his throat and flipped the camera and pointed at the pads that said Small, Medium, Large, XTRA large which made you sigh “Get medium babe & for the record the pad size isn’t the size of my vagina, it depends off of the flow.” He tossed the pads in the basket and hummed “Yeah well I also never had to buy you pads before so..” You hung up on him mid sentence which left him bewildered in the middle of the store but he went off to the candy isle & tossed a variety of snacks in there, Snickers, Kisses, Hershey chocolate bar, Twix, Chips, Cookies ETC

Soon he came home with bags surrounding his arms while he nudged the door open with his hip and set the bags next to you on the couch “Your knight and shining armor has returned babygirl.” You giggled and sat up while picked you up and carried you upstairs and sat you on the bed while he went back down to retrieve the stuff he got you, You were confused with what he was doing and tried asking but he held out a singular finger before hustling into the bathroom and running a warm bath & dunking a bath bomb inside of it before retrieving you “ ‘mon princess your taking a bath.”

You smiled as you got up and went into the bathroom and discarded your clothes and putting your hair up while he helped you get into the tub, “better?” You smiled nodding “much better, thank you Codes.” He smiled and helped get you washed up before helping you out of the tub and putting you in something more comfortable and loose, he laid you down and turned on your favorite show on your shared ipad and sat it on your lap while giving you the bag of candy he got you

“I don’t need you worrying about tomorrow so later tonight i’ll pack our bags so you can get rest.” He addressed before getting in bed with you and running his hand over your tummy and adding a little pressure “What would I do with you?” You muttered into his shoulder while watching your show.

“y’know if you reallyy wanna get rid of these cramps & painful hot flashes we cannot maybee pause that for a good 9 months if you catch my drift.” “Shutup cody.” You laughed and smacked his chest before he chuckled and gave you a kiss “Offer will still be up on the table.”

That was definitely something you might wanna think about and consider once you were over with your period.

🏷️ list: @ginswife @coolpastelartshoe @greatkoalawizard @cokolin044 @kotoriarlert @alicerosejensen @bunnybot55 @agent-dessis-posts @adollonyourshelf @puppy-princ3ss @valkyrurr

xtripleiiix’s Masterlist

A/N- HII lovey!! I hope you liked it i’m sorry if it was to short I was a little swamped today!! But please feel free to send more requests!! If you want you can claim that Emoji so I know if it’s you making cody requests! <3

[padawansuggest]

Catboy Anakin will meticulously hunt all buggies and critters that enter his domain, facing challenges like not looking where he’s jumping and falling into toilets and open washing machines, nearly falling off the balcony several times a day with one actual fall a month while hunting birds, ekekekekekeks every time he spots a new thing to hunt, will eat or destroy literally anything, and often leaves dead animals on Obi-Wan and Rex’s pillows.

Catboy Obi-Wan, on the other hand, has an upset tummy because he’s so picky that his favorite food isn’t on the right plate and so instead he’s gonna glare at the one feeding him (likely Cody or Alpha) while delicately sipping at his Voss water filled chilled personal fountain so they know he really would rather starve than let someone mess up his meal, thanks. Will stare at a mouse cowering in the corner with bored disdain rather than chase after something so inferior.

Anakin thinks Obi is so stuck up and annoying but what no one tells him is that he used to hunt everything in the apartment when he was small up to and including Qui-Gon’s feet when he stands up from the couch and now he’s just bored and super tired after chasing Anakin around for ten years and being a general. It’s okay, the clones will take care of these naughty boys and get Obi-Wan back to playing the ‘I see feet under blankets that is an ENEMY’ game soon enough. They take good care of them.

[frosty-tian]

What about a top ten of the bots as sparkling cutest moments? Do the bitties sleep in a pile all together or do they sleep with their respective human?

Also, having bean Chase as the most mischievous little one (compared to him being the most stern of the adults) must be quite a shock to Charlie. I wonder if he wondered what happened to make such a flip in character

We need more info on this au, it's urgent (fanart is not required, but always welcome)

Hm…!

It’s hard to choose top 10s, but here are 10 memorable moments (in no particular order).:

(Sorry, I would love to make fan-art of this AU, it’s just at the moment I’m in a slightly difficult situation to do as much drawing as I like.)

1) When he saw Dani bringing out her small box of accessories to let Blades play with, he pretty much squealed with joy.

2) Boulder had attempted to draw everyone with a box of crayons they found and a special portrait for Gram. It was really crude, but still melted Gram’s heart.

3) Adding onto top point, whenever someone complimented Boulder’s drawings, the little happy sounds he made…

4) From one of the first posts I made, Cody has tried to read bed time stories to them, but pretty much lulled himself to sleep as well. They all just slept in a heap, with someone pulling a blanket over later.

5) Chase definitely got around playing hide and seek of some sorts, and made little gurgle-giggle sounds when he thinks no one could find him. Of course, the sounds gave him away, but the Burns just pretended they don’t hear him and continue playing.

6) All of the sparklings were ecstatic when given cuddles, except Heatwave. Initially, he would wriggle and fuss until Kade placed him down. But once he started liking it, he refused to let go (much to Kade’s dismay).

7) All of the sparklings have curled up either next to their partners or in their arms at some point. Also, cuddle/sleep pile? Yes, absolutely.

8) They don’t seem to be able to discern what’s edible or not, so yes. A few times they have tried to suck/nom on the Burns’ fingers, and need to be told many times what is food and what isn’t (at least, which items should not be ingested).

9) One time Charlie gave Chase a blanket/towel to keep him occupied, and he pretty much just crawled in and out of it like it’s some sort of tunnel. He plays an odd peek a boo with it, and smiles so much when he sees someone on the other side.

10) Their little hands. So tiny. Sometimes they just gently grab and hold onto the Burn’s finger. That small gesture even melted Kade’s heart.

[live-laugh-loverpool]

Of Snowmen and Middle-Earth

Tags: @millythegoat, @alissonbecksfan234, @moomin279, @lfc-fanfiction, @rubybecker-rb2

Summary: Gakpo has been struggling to bond with the seven kids. To remedy this, he tries to build a snowman with them.

Cody Gakpo had received a lot of surprises when he’d came to Liverpool. Not the cold weather—he’d expected England in the winter would be colder than in the Netherlands. Not the lively atmosphere—he’d expected that from Van Dijk’s descriptions.

What really surprised Gakpo was how close everyone was to each other. Not just that, but there were six adults—and two married couples—with kids. In all, there were seven children living in Kirkby Ground.

He’d expected a bit of difficulty meshing with the others—he was new, after all. But he had not expected to deal with seven children.

Right now, there was a blanket of snow outside. Most of the others were busy doing something outside; he would join them later. But now he was in the same room with the kids, and they hadn’t even said hello to each other.

What can I do with them? Gakpo had never been good with kids. His younger cousins avoided him unless the grownups forced them to have some “quality time” together. He’d tried interacting with random babies he saw in the store or park, but every time he smiled at them they would either cry or throw something at him—usually, tuna cans.

Wait a minute. It was snowing outside, and snow was always a good place to start. Kids loved snow, so why not take them out to play in the snow? He wasn’t sure about the whole idea—one young adult to seven children under ten seemed disproportionate, plus there were two babies and Arwen would need help navigating the thick snow. But his big mouth prevented him from doing any more risk assessment.

“Kids! Let’s go build a snowman!”

Faster than you could say his name, the kids had surrounded Gakpo. All held up warm winter gear, all were clamoring for his help, and all wanted to go outside. NOW.

He really hadn’t thought this through.

“Alright, alright!” Gakpo held up a hand, taking baby Tristan from the ground. “Let’s get you all ready. Could one of you get the snow gear from wherever you keep it?”

“You mean the nursery? Sure!” Florrie and Kairo ran out the door, Arwen following close behind.

Gakpo sighed in relief, holding Tristan. The ten-month-old baby glared at him as if he’d just committed a crime. “Alright, little man. Let’s get you into your snowsuit.”

*

After wrestling with zippers and buttons and toggles and squirming, kicking limbs, Gakpo finally managed to get the kids out the door.

He pushed Arwen’s wheelchair onto the lawn, careful to mind the bumps in the road. After a brief discussion with Arwen, he’d found out that the eight year old usually used an electric wheelchair except in bad weather. Thick snow like this qualified as bad weather, so Gakpo would push her chair long distances and Arwen would wheel herself across short stretches of land.

Gakpo carried Ellie and Tristan in a double baby carrier, even though both could crawl and walk. Grace and Henrietta toddled around, but Gakpo had a twenty-foot length of rope tied between their wrists and his waist. It was highly unlikely they would run into danger considering that the lawn had a huge parking lot between itself and the road, but it was better to be safe than sorry. He’d only let Florrie and Kairo run free because they were a little older and would listen to him if he called.

“So, what are we going to use for our snowman?” he asked once the little ones had run off all their pent-up energy. Now he knew how every parent in the world felt. “Are we giving him a scarf?”

“Yeah!” Florrie took out a scarf from her pocket, holding it up like it was a trophy. “A scarf, and a carrot nose, and a magic hat that makes him sing and dance!”

“Frosty’s overrated,” said Arwen, tossing a snowball at the wall. “I’ll tell you a real snowman story, if you start those balls to the point where it’s big enough for me to roll.”

Ellie, interested in all the activity going on around her, demanded to get down from the baby carrier. Gakpo set the seven month old on Arwen’s lap, knowing that Arwen wouldn’t let her fall.

He tried to get Tristan to play in the snow as well. But Tristian refused to be put down. In fact, he just wanted to stay on Gakpo’s lap as a chubby dark teal lump.

*

Soon the snowman was done, and Gakpo still hadn’t managed to interact with the kids. Ellie and Tristian had fell asleep in the carrier, and Grace and Henrietta were tuckered out from romping in the deep snow. They sat next to Gakpo on the bench, watching Florrie, Kairo and Arwen have a snowball fight.

“You guys are all so lucky,” Gakpo whispered to Ellie, even though he knew the baby couldn’t hear him. “This is your home and everybody loves you. You’ve got people here who are great with kids. None of you guys are even interested in me.”

Henrietta yawned, as if to prove his point.

“I can’t hold an interesting conversation for too long,” he went on, kicking at the snow. “Pigs will fly before I do that.”

“No piggy!”

Arwen came up to Gakpo, wringing her hands together for warmth. “Hey.”

“Uh…hey Arwen.”

Arwen smirked, stopping beside the forward. “I’m usually called Arwen when I’m in trouble. Please, just call me Winnie.”

Now this was getting weird. “As in Winnie the Pooh?!”

“What? No way!” Arwen opened the bookbag on the back of her wheelchair, taking out a book. “I was named after the character in Lord of the Rings. Have you ever read that?”

“No.”

“You should.” Arwen handed Gakpo the dark green and blue book. “It’s epic. So Bilbo’s cousin Frodo goes with his Fellowship to destroy the One Ring and it’s maker, Dark Lord Sauron.”

Gakpo studied the book with new interest. “Maybe I should read this.”

“It’ll make more sense if you read The Hobbit,” Arwen advised him, taking a list out of her backpack. “And if you want more, there’s always The Two Towers and The Return of the King. It took me eighteen months to read all four of those books.”

“Just eighteen months?” Gakpo gulped, staring at the four thick books. “You must really like reading, Winnie.”

“It’s one of my hobbies, along with ping-pong. But do you know what I like better than reading stories? Telling them!”

“You tell your own stories? From your imagination? You’re lucky,” Gakpo admitted. “I’ve never had that much imagination. That’s why I’m not so good with kids.”

Arwen nodded, setting Grace on her lap. “I can relate. I’ve always wanted to do needlework, but I never had the patience to. What do you do for fun?”

“Not much,” Gakpo admitted with a shrug. “FIFA and checkers.”

“Hey, Mom and I play checkers sometimes.” Arwen extended a hand. “You want to play against me sometime?”

Gakpo hesitated a bit before shaking Arwen’s hand. “Sure, anytime you’d like.”

“Then we can go inside and start as soon as possible.” Arwen balanced Grace and Henrietta on her lap, tucking Lord of the Rings into her backpack. “Just make sure to find a table with enough space under it. We both need to fit our legs under there.”

Gakpo flashed her a thumbs-up as he stood from the bench. “Sure.”

Gakpo had always thought he wasn’t good with kids. But as he called for Florrie and Kairo to come inside, he thought that just this once, he might have a talent in babysitting after all.

[delicrieux]

☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 10: BIG DICK IS BACK IN TOWN

y/n is back in brooklyn for the holidays. thinking that a stream will make her feel less homesick for cali, she starts working on her famously titled hentai.free.srv. what was supposed to be a relaxing stream turns into a special delivery about two hours in.

─── corpse husband x reader ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: 2.2k ─── ❥ req: Here's one... You know those apps for delivery like Domino's or whatnot... What if reader is streaming Among Us with Corpse, and reader mentions they're hungry and Corpse offers to order them food, and readers like no no it's fine... Then there's delivery at the door (Corpse ordered beforehand) 

author’s note: fucky format is also back in town baby!!! also if you find any mistakes - no u didnt <3 thank u everyone for enjoying this story sm i literally cant believe how feral yall going strawberry cow was a nuclear explosion im still recovering tbh. got an ask a while ago and decided to incorporate it into myso. happy holidays everyone! myso will continue on monday!

ultimate masterlist.  ҉  myso masterlist   ҉   previous.  ҉   next.

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Indeed, being soft on any social media platform was the biggest disgrace and needed to be eliminated post haste. Moreover, it was a slippery slope - once you start flooding your timeline with cute imagery and heart emojis, what will stop you from posting inspirational Facebook quotes? Disgusting. If Rae were here, she would chide you (not you thinking about her as if she’s dead or something). For once in your life, you feel like you deserve it. 

Alas, you hope this little chaos you’ve caused is enough to throw everyone off. The stans, especially. You know the hashtags, you’ve seen ARMY scourging for info online with the same fervor and ruthlessness 1 Direction fans hacked airport security cameras just to spy on the boys. If you had any dirty secrets online, they are out to the public now - thankfully, besides the Harry Styles stan account (with edits and all), you have nothing. Though, now that you think about it, exposed nudes would have been better than your Punk!Harry edit receiving almost a million views. God, your life’s a fucking mess.

Your fans aren’t the only ones out for info - you, too, are trying to decipher Rae’s message. Code: Barbecue Sauce. The two of you had come up with it roughly two years ago, around the same time when you promised that if you didn’t find significant others by the time you’re 40, you’ll just marry each other. It was one of the many rules found in your friendship codex. Barbecue Sauce signifies information - an exchange of information. And depending on how it ends or begins (”So I’m sitting there” alludes to Rae, “On my titties” alludes to you), secret data on that person is given away, usually free of charge. 

But why? And to whom did Rae give away what? You had pestered her mercilessly and even sent some voice messages where you were crying. You were only crying because of a video of a grandpa smiling you saw on TikTok, but you are a snake, and so you put those tears to good use. If streaming doesn’t work out, you’ll just become an actress. Hollywood would love you. Your PR firm sure as fuck wouldn’t, though.

Rae was having none of it. She said you’ll figure it out eventually. Told you to channel your superior puzzle skills. You were quick to remind her that you can barely count to ten without having an aneurysm. Oddly serious, she admitted that she worries for you sometimes. Why only sometimes?! you demanded. She merely sighed. uttering under her breath something that sounded closely to “Boke.”

You leave her for barely a week and she’s already neck deep in the gay volleyball anime, hoodie and cardboard cutout and everything. Your life is falling apart.

But Brooklyn is nice. It had snowed when you stepped off of the plane. Thousands of snowflakes sprinkling into your hair, dotting your cheeks and nose. You missed this sight back in Cali. You missed your parents, too. 

Home cooked meals, old sweaters, your old room and about 40GB worth of old high school pictures on your computer. You went through them all one night. Some were stomach churning, cringe inducing nightmares. You were especially fond of those. Texted some of your friends that were still in Brooklyn, met up, decided to bake. Bad idea, Rae was the resident chef back in Cali. Besides laughing till your stomach hurt, and almost burning down your kitchen, nothing all that significant happened. Somewhere down the line, at about 3 am, half-way through a cheesy rom-com you had the overwhelming urge to text Corpse.

That’s where the problems really started. God, you missed California, missed being in the same timezone with a guy you hadn’t even met yet, how embarrassing is that?! You missed skating around and taking pictures of the beach in the setting sun, sending it to him, silently wishing he was with you to admire the view. 

You really want to call him. And to hang out with him. But for some reason, the thought of that springs up immediate anxiety and you shy away from asking. Him sending you cute good morning texts doesn’t help, either. Maybe it’s better he doesn’t know that you’re a blushing, stuttering mess each time you read “baby”. 

Late evening. Your stream is already set up, people are slowly trickling in and you greet them with a grin and a soft “Hello! Hi hi!”. You did your best to make your room a perfectly chaotic backdrop - led lights, an embarrassing amount of anime merch and plushies. You always try to balance out your weeb side by dressing hot as fuck for your streams - today’s inspiration just so happens to be egirls. Mostly because you watched one too many egirl make-up tutorials on TikTok, and also because you’ve been listening to Corpse’s song all day.

Yeah, no, who are you kidding, you dressed up this way because you were hoping Corpse was watching your stream. You didn’t forget your cat headphones, either. You know he likes them. You want to make him suffer. Perhaps then, finally, he will ask you out, so you wouldn’t have to.

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“I feel like,” You start when you put away your phone, staring idly at the chat, “I feel like I need a new name for you guys. Calling you guys after two years of streaming is just... weird, no? I also don’t respect men so I don’t want to call you guys. Like, so many creator’s have, like, a name for their fans. Uhm, Cody Ko has the chodesters, Kurtis Conner has, uh, folks? Kurtis Town? Citizens! Markiplier has mommy issues--” You can’t help snorting, “So, I’ve been, like, thinking - I know, shocking! - so I was thinking I’m gonna name you cockroaches. Because you’re grimy little shits impossible to kill. And also then I can use the legendary Minaj meme ROACHES!”

Your stream enthusiastically echoes ROACHES, making the chat swim. Yes, if anyone would enjoy such a name, it would be your audience. You’re as equally proud as you are disturbed.

“Well, anyway.” Leaning back into your chair, you throw your arms out with a bright grin, “Big dick is back in town, baby! If you noticed the backdrops different, it’s cuz I’m in Brooklyn now. Don’t ask me when I will return to Always Sunny, I don’t plan that far ahead.”

While Minecraft boots up, you decide to answer a few questions.

r u dating sykkuno?

You want to smack your head into the keyboard, but as it is, you can’t exactly afford a new one, so you refrain, “No, Sykkuno and I are not dating, we are just good friends. Uhm, I’m not sure how much I’ll have to repeat this, but, we really aren’t, so if the roaches could chill - Oh my God, that sounds so stupid, I love it - uh, yeah, if the roaches could chill that’d be great.”

the roaches lmao sounds like we’re a sports team

“Oh shit, yeah it does, uh-- maybe I can make like, jerseys or something. That’d be cool, I think.”

how disappointed are your parents with the way your life turned out?

“My parents are actually not disappointed at all!” You say with a cute little smile, “Uhm, they’re both really proud, actually. They’re glad I found something I love doing and made a job outta it. Dad finds my Youtube videos endearing. Yes, they watch pretty much all of my videos, unless I explicitly tell them not to. And yeah, with all the fucks and thirsting for anime characters. Uhm, it was very embarrassing at first, but I mean, after a while, shame just...doesn’t exist anymore, I guess? Funny thing about my parents, actually, when they watch my videos-” You eye catches a comment, “Oh! No, they only watch my Youtube videos. They don’t know how to use Twitter, thank God. Uhm, anyway-- when they hear a name they don’t know, like, I dunno, Dabi, or something, they google--” You’re grinning by now, eyes crinkling, giggling softly, “--who that is, and buy me like, merch and stuff. It’s really cute. 

can i be adopted by ur parents plz

will you and corpse ever collab?!

You were about to answer, though the man of the hour himself decides to do it for you.

Corpse_Husband: yes.

Okay, not to say your heart skipped a beat, but it totally did. With a pleased smile, you nod, like one of those bobble head toys sold at the dollar store. The motion is oddly reminiscent of Sykkuno’s own nod. Perhaps you had picked it up from him. The chat seems to notice.

pack it up, sykkuno

More questions pile about this mysterious collab you and Corpse are planning. Yeah, you’d like to hear more about it, too, since he single highhandedly decided one was happening right now. Corpse remains silent. Fine, keep your secrets. 

“Okay, guys, oh, I mean, roaches, Oh my God--” You’re covering your mouth, giggling, “-calling all roaches, calling all roaches, calm down. Everyone grab a snack and a blanket I’m turning up the music volume so we can all chill. Entering chill zone. Entering chill zone. Roaches, prepare.”

we are prepared

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An hour or so passes and you grow hungry. It shows with the amount of cakes you had baked in your server. Currently, you find yourself throwing eggs at the wall of one of the renovated houses, your face scrunched in concentration and slight frustration. 24 of the 50 eggs have been wasted. “What’s a girl gotta do to get some chicks around here?” you had uttered under your breath, until, finally, a screech - the egg finally spawns a mob. Your mouth falls open, “Aww, look!” You approach it, so small, walking in zigzags beside you, “It’s a baby chicken! Die, bitch.” The baby chicken is no more as you swing your bedazzled (you have mods) diamond sword. You’re cackling by the time the dust settles.

y/n is a child murderer

“Roaches,” You address your fan-base, spurring another fit of laughter - you can’t get over the name, “I think I’m like, forgetting that eating in Minecraft won’t actually make less hungry in real life.”

take a break and go eat queen <3

“Fuck no, we starve and die like men. Now I actually really need another chicken.”

Another twenty minutes trickle by and you’re trying to lure back a panda from the jungle when there’s a knock on your bedroom’s door. Whipping your head to the side, you slide down your headphones. At the same time, your mom pokes her head through the ajar door, “MOM!” You scream, “Get OUT of my room I’m playing Minecraft!” But your yell has no actual bite to it, as you don’t manage to hide your smile. Your mom laughs, doing some sort of sign language and motioning for you to follow her with her head. That or it’s some sort of performative dance. 

“I’m live right now,” You tell her, pointing at your screen. She knows this already, though, “do you want to say hi?” 

The roaches spam the chat with friendly hellos. You mom, quite impatient now, waves you over. 

“Sorry, roaches, mom needs something. Be back in a bit!”

Stopping the stream, you rush out of your seat and pleased she slinks into the hallway. “What’s this about?”

“Your pizza came.”

“My what now?” You echo, confused.

“Domino’s. You ordered pizza?”

“What? No? I was busy with the stream, I never--”

Thankfully, you had managed to grab your phone from your room before you exited. You almost choke on spit once you read the messages.

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You decide that it’ll be impossible to stream after experiencing what you had just experienced. You tweet out a quick apology to the roaches (God, that fucking name) and say that you had a breakdown but you’re okay. That is as a close to the truth as you managed to muster. It’s a sad sight, chewing and crying; your mom winced when she saw your state - disheveled hair and rundown eyeliner and everything. “D’aww,” She had muttered, caressing the top of your head, “don’t cry my little raccoon.”

If anyone was ever to ask you where did your chaotic nature come from, you’d answer with my mom. To make yourself feel better, you took a selfie - duck face and peace sign and the horrible 2000′s angle. Sent it to Rae. 

looking hot, her message read. 

thanks, was all you replied with.

You couldn’t just leave things as they were. Once you calmed down, you wanted to text Corpse, but how would you follow up the ungodly caps lock and screeching? Impossible. An idea sprung to mind, one that was brave. Taking the first step.

Instead of sending a text, you sent a voice memo.

“Thank you for the pizza, it was delicious.”

You voice still sounded a bit raspy. His reply was instant. Your heart skipped a beat. He sent a voice memo back.

“Glad you liked it, baby.”

He was going to be the death of you.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @slashersdream - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury–moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai - @truly-dionysus - @multi-fandom-central707

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

[cassidystarks]

Soft Sides and Sunshine (Cody Rhodes x Reader)

Welcome to another Imagine! This is requested by @the--blackdahlia for @piratewithvigor so be sure to follow both of these amazing people! Anyways, enjoy the story!!

.......................

Keys: y/n: your name

.......................

I had always loved the mornings. They were peaceful, mixed up with the pure bliss of silence. The pillows were soft, the blankets were warm. Everything was great, other than the well-known face my boyfriend is snoring like a pig. I love him, but damn he's loud. I roll over to face him. Shirtless like always, in his boxers, like always. Nothing changed, but I wouldn't change anything as it is right now anyway. I grip his arm and put it over my ear to stop the sound. I sigh in relief and close my eyes.

I feel him move his arm and lower his head down to touch the top of mine.

"Good morning love." He said in his sleepy tone. I had always loved that tone.

"Good morning loudmouth," I say.

"Ouch, I'm hurt." He said.

I giggle. "Good."

He leans down closer to my lips as he plants a kiss on them. I feel him groan as he pulls himself up. I latch onto his bicep.

"Don't leave me," I say giving the iconic puppy dog eyes he can't resist.

"No...that's not gonna work on me today."

"Pleaseeee," I say gripping tighter.

"Do you want pancakes?" He looks over at me.

'I wanna stay in bed. With you. All day."

"Afraid I cannot let that happen." He says yanking me out of bed.

He carried me down the stairs and sat me down on the kitchen table as he trails down to the refrigerator. Pulling out the pancake mix and starting on that. He mixes everything together and starts cooking it on the stove. With the extra batter left, I scooped some up with my finger. I walk over and dab it on Cody’s nose, laughing as he smirked.

He nodded, signifying war. He picked up some batter with his index and middle finger, smearing it on my cheek. I notice from the corner of my eye him mouthing the word ‘run’

I dart out of the kitchen and up the stairs. I hear his voice trailing behind me.

“Y/N!” He yells.

I squeal and lock myself in our bedroom. I sneak into the closet and hide there until I hear the footsteps go further away. I thought I was safe until I heard those same footsteps echo throughout the room, and it hit me.

He has a spare key.

He opens the closet door and tackles me over, pinning me to the floor.

“You can hide, but not forever.” He says kissing me.

We laid there just staring into the eyes of each other, and basking in each other's warmth until I smelt burning pancakes.

"Shit!" I say standing up and heading downstairs.

"Now what?" Cody looks at me.

"I'll go order McDonald's. Meet, me on the couch for our show in ten."

"Anything for you." He says kissing my forehead.

[cabezadeperro]

Hello!! Can I ask for codex and only one bed? 🦭

not actually unrequited love, cody's just being obtuse on purpose; 212th arc rex; 556w

Rex stops right inside the entrance of the little room, nervously fingering the lip of his bucket, stares at the bed, his eyes wide.

“Um. Sir,” he begins, and Cody closes his eyes and sighs, because he knows what he’s going to say, but he lets him talk. “Sir, I will take the floor.”

The 212th’s newest ARC trooper has been awake and on the job for the past forty eight hours, ten more hours than Cody himself, and almost as long as Skywalker. It shows on his face, haggard and pale, his usually sharp eyes dull and surrounded by bruised skin.

Cody looks at him, too tired to be professional and polite and distant, but determined to try anyway. He has no business getting all of his—his frustrated longing and fondness over his own subordinate. Fuck knows the man already shoulders more than he should.

He’s been specops for three months; before that, he was an infantry lieutenant. Cody knew almost immediately after meeting him that he would be wasted wrangling squads and officers, and he was right. Rex is a wonder.

Cody places his own bucket on the small table by the wall. The room is small, dirty and messy. The apartment’s previous occupants evacuated in a hurry, and there are clothes everywhere, around the floor and on the messy sheets. The whole thing smells musty and strange, but Cody’s honestly too tired to care.

“That bed could fit a whole kriffing squad, lieutenant,” he says. Rex twitches and looks away; a blush dusts his cheekbones. Cody exhales. “You’re not—you’re not sleeping on the floor. If you feel uncomfortable bunking with me, I’ll find you a different room.”

He doesn’t know how, or where—but he will.

Rex scowls down at his own boots. He steps inside the room, and closes the door at his back.

“Fine,” he says shortly. “Sir.”

Cody rolls his eyes and starts taking off his plates, piling them on the floor by the table. There are little crystal bottles everywhere, and a mirror mounted over it; he watches Rex cross the room, looking all around himself with obvious curiosity despite his exhaustion.

When he starts shedding his own armour, Cody looks away. He grabs his blaster and his comm and turns back to the bed. He sighs. It looks—comfortable. Weirdly busy: there are so many blankets and sheets and pillows and—and things.

He glances back at Rex; Rex is watching his reflection on the mirror, and when Cody catches him, he flushes, looks away. He’s taken off his kama and his pauldron, the upper part of his armour, and he looks younger and more vulnerable, his shoulders bowed under the weight of the past few hours.

Cody’s fingers twitch; he’d like to curl his arm around the bone and muscle, pull him in against his own chest, kiss him there, on the stretch of soft skin between his blacks and his buzzed hair.

He takes the right side of the bed. He lays down on the mattress and closes his eyes. The bedsheets are damp.

The luma on the ceiling clicks; darkness descends upon the room, and the bed dips. It shakes a bit while Rex settles, and Cody ignores his fast beating heart, the long line of heat at his back.

This is hell, he thinks.

He falls asleep.

[chocmarss]

12 Days of Rexsoka Masterpost

Insane how I managed to do post everyday for this event, even if the last prompt was a few days late, oops. But here they are!

Day 1: Clueless/It’s Just a Crush (Link)

Title: my heart’s in my throat

star wars. rebellion era. pining rex. rexsoka. 5.6k words. rated T.

Part 1 of the can someone please help them series

Summary:

Ahsoka squeezes his elbow in consolation, and the look Rex gives her softens the worried lines between his brows just a bit, allowing utter fondness to shine through the small smile he reserves for her.

Fives watches them tiredly from his perch on the counter; one of these days, they’re going to see how they’re absolutely whipped for each other and they’re going to be horrified at how they’ve been broadcasting it to everyone around them. Fives is going to make sure they apologise to him for making him go through the constipated woes of denying one’s affections of another, despite the fact he’s not the one who’s crushing after his commander.

Day 2: Just Like Old Times/Memories (Link)

Title: Force of Nature

star wars. star wars rebels. rexsoka. rescue mission. rated T. 7.3k words.

WARNING: Mentions of slavery

Summary:

“What’s the plan?”

“Throw those grenades at the doors to confuse them,” Ahsoka flexed her hold onto her sabers. “And then, we’re going to jump off the balcony.”

Day 3: Force Bond/AU (Link)

Title: Humble Offering

star wars. the clone wars. supernatural au. werewolf rex. vampire ahsoka. rexsoka. rated T. 7.8k words.

Part 1 of the Written in Blood series

WARNING: GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE

Summary:

“The other clans,” Rex began, almost tentative. “They’re going to call us cowards for running off to these vampires for help.”

“Let them,” Jango growled. “I don’t have time for politics right now, not when our lives are already at stake. If they don’t want to work with us in trying to find out who’s killing their clan, then it’s their choice to bring that ego to their graves.” He sat down on one of the chairs beside Hardcase’s bed. “I have my family to look after.”

Day 4: You Seem Different/Awkward (Link)

Title: Announced as an Affliction

star wars. star wars rebels. animal transformation. sith holocron shenanigans. rexsoka. rated G. 3.1k+ words.

Summary:

“Okay, one, a holocron is not a cursed object so much as it’s a learning tool that has a Jedi safety lock,” Kanan huffs out. “It only attacked us because Ezra and I were there, and the rest of you were just not lucky to be in the same room as we were. Two. How are we supposed to bring it back if we didn’t touch it?”

“By not bringing it back?” Rex hints mildly.

Day 5: Survival/Injury (Link)

Title: more alive than they should be

star wars. the clone wars. supernatural au. werewolf rex. vampire ahsoka. rated T. 4.5k words.

Part 2 of the Written in Blood series (sequel to Day 3)

Summary:

“Fifty bucks and I say that he’ll fold in ten.”

“I’m pretty sure Rex is more than capable of lasting more than ten minutes.”

“Against Ahsoka? Fat chance.”

Day 6: On the Run/Disguise (Link)

Title: canned that hunger

star wars. the clone wars. post order 66. rebellion era. pining rex au. rexsoka. rated T. 5.5k+ words.

Part 2 of the can someone please help them series (Sequel to Day 1)

Summary:

Fives opens a private channel with Cody. “So, what are the chances of me getting my ten credits tonight?”

“None,” Cody snorts. “You’re putting too much faith in them without them kriffing it all up themselves. You know they won’t be swearing their undying love to each other by the end of this mission.”

Day 7: Nightmares/Daydreams (Link)

Title: i wake after enduring

star wars. post-empire era. marriage proposal. rexsoka. rated G. 3.2k words

Summary:

“So,” Ahsoka wraps the blanket tighter around her form, burying her face deeper into his neck. “A large backyard.”

“Do we really need a large backyard?” Rex wonders out loud, hands rubbing down her back, two warm touches that seep deep into her bones.

She can feel him trembling, too.

Day 8: Alone/Regret (Link)

Title: Burn This Book

star wars. the clone wars. rebellion era. pining rex. rexsoka. rated T. 4.8k+ words.

Part 3 of the can someone please help them series (sequel to Day 1 & Day 6)

Summary:

“Rex,” Cody narrows his eyes. “What the hell did you do?”

“It was stupid, alright? I didn’t mean it, I swear it.”

“Fine,” Cody nods at him. “What did you say?”

Day 9: Fix It/Second Chance (Link)

Title: Like a Bruise

star wars. the clone wars. rebellion era. pining rex. rexsoka. rated T. 7.9k+

Part 4 of the can someone please help them series (sequel to Day 1, Day 6 & Day 8)

Summary:

Kriff, this isn’t going well. Rex struggles against the disappointment that threatens to overtake him, but keeps his expression neutral throughout the whole time Ahsoka gives out some pointers in their training. They all seem satisfied enough with her review, thanking her for her help with wide smiles before they make their way towards the storage equipment. And—

Dammit, she’s about to leave.

Day 10: Domestic/Family (Link)

Title: Dearest of All

star wars. the clone wars. no order 66 au. everyone lives. established relationship. rexsoka. 5.4k+ words. rated T.

Summary:

“Rex?” She demanded, causing Rex to whip his head up from where he dropped his knapsack on the floor. “What are you doing here? You were supposed to arrive an hour ago.”

“I thought you were supposed to arrive an hour ago,” Rex straightened himself up, and yeesh, the least he could have done was change out of his armour, from how the blue-striped vambraces and pauldrons stood out between them. At least, his helmet was off and nowhere to be seen. She couldn’t comment much though, not when she was from work herself.

Day 11: Together/After the War (Link)

Title: all about old friends

star wars. star wars rebels. original trilogy era. post-empire era. reunion. rexsoka. rated T. 6.5k+ words.

Summary:

He eyes her properly, subconsciously straightening his back. “What’s going on here, Hera?”

When she meets his eyes, she’s steeled herself for the news as much as he is. “She’s alive.”

Day 12: Lifeday (Link)

Title: this life and next

star wars. post-empire era. original trilogy era. established relationship. rexsoka. rated G. 2.3k+ words.

Summary:

The kid’s pouting. The little jut of his bottom lip shouldn’t make him so adorable, but he is, and this six-year-old knows how to utilise it.

Good thing Ahsoka’s immune to such things; if it’s Zeb, or Sabine, or say, Rex, they’d fold the moment the big guns are out. K.O., no chance of turning back, and they’d give exactly what it is that Jacen wants because he’s got them all wrapped around his little pinky.

And in this case, it’s a Bespin cloud drop.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Misread Details: Robert

CW: Dehumanizing language, BBU blanket warning, serial killer/death talk, descriptions of death/abduction/murder, blood, whumper death, some real vague implied noncon references, creepy whumper, sadistic whumper

Part One: Nanda | Part Two: Brute | Part Three: Robert

The Dark Discovery in Robert Weber’s Basement: Box Boy Killer, Part 3

r/LetsTalkTrueCrime

•Posted by u/oshaycanyousee

3 days ago

After Part One, where we learned about the mysterious, but possibly entirely natural, death of Nathaniel “Nanda” Benson, and Part Two, where we saw Henry “Brute” Hanlon’s double life lead to his untimely gruesome murder, you see the single thread that connects these two men who otherwise never met, interacted, or even shared a single person in common… a nameless Box Boy, present at the death of Nanda even if he isn’t responsible for it, and the proven killer of Brute.

It’s my theory that this Box Boy may have accidentally killed his legal owner, Nanda, and then picked up a taste for the act and moved on to taking shelter with those he turns into his victims.

With Brute, he simply didn’t know the man had a wife and children and entire other life, and may have assumed no one would come looking for him or recognize his death. With our third individual, Robert Weber, it seems like our Box Boy Serial Killer got in over his head.

I give you… the Accidental Vigilante death of Robert Weber.

You decide if our unknown killer is simply the unluckiest guy in the world or a killer who even now may be somewhere living with - and earning the trust of - his next victim.

-

One bright and sunny day in the quaint, old-fashioned California town of Rancher’s Rest, Robert Weber was late for work.

Weber worked in a vehicle repair business owned by lifelong “RR” resident Randy Niles, who had known Weber since his childhood and had been his boss since Weber was eighteen years old and fresh out of high school.

Niles, who is now nearly seventy-five and still spends his days in the shop with an Australian Shepherd named Cody and a blind pit bull named Sue keeping him company everywhere he goes, stated that Weber had no living family he knew of beyond his sister in Vermont, and he was just about the closest thing Weber had to a relative just from having known him so long.

“He didn’t have too much to do with his sister,” Randy said in an interview with Unsolved Mysteries. (You can see the interview on the new Netflix reboot of the show! It’s a really good episode, definitely recommend. It’s how I got into this case in the first place.) “Or nobody, really. Just us at work, the guys at the bar, that kinda thing. He was quiet, kept to himself really. You’d never just strike up a chat around town or anything. But he got on just fine with the boys here in the shop. He was a bit of an egghead, too, always going on about this thing or that he’d seen on the news. Little… odd. Little bit off, you might say. But really, who isn’t? In any case, you know, I’d known him since he was a little boy, so he was just Bobby Weber to me.”

Then, of course, one day Robert Weber didn’t show up to work. Randy Niles immediately felt that something was very wrong.

“When nine, nine-thirty came and went and he wasn’t there,” Niles said, “I knew someone needed to go check on him. Bobby showed up for work right on time or ten minutes early, rain or shine, for twenty years. My first thought was maybe he’d had an accident at home, or some kind of, you know, health thing. Almost never called in sick, took one vacation a year, that kinda thing. So I drove right on over there. This would’ve been, oh, probably ten or ten-fifteen when I got to the house. Had my dogs with me, and they never did like Bobby much, but as soon as I opened my door and got out of my truck they just lost their damn minds. Barking, growling, Cody’s hackles were up like you wouldn’t believe. I know it sounds damn crazy, but I’m sure those dogs could smell that evil had been done in that house.”

On camera, Niles goes quiet, here, his gaze slipping away from the interviewer as he scratches at the side of his nose. When he looks back, the hint of good humor that seems to be an eternal part of his expression is gone.

“I didn’t know what Bobby had been up to all this time. None of us knew. I’ve known Bobby Weber his whole life, and I… I had no idea.”

Randy Niles was unable to convince his two dogs to exit the truck, and eventually rolled down the windows to give them some air and a way out if they chose (he is insistent on this point in the Unsolved Mysteries episode - “don’t you dare say I left my dogs locked up in a truck on a sunny day, I sure didn’t - Cody even knows how to pull a door handle if it’s the right kind”) and got out to knock on Robert Weber’s front door.

No one answered.

Niles knocked again. Still no response.

The front door was locked, but Niles was able to locate an unlocked back door into the garage, where he found Weber’s car neatly parked and nothing out of place. However, once he used an interior door in the garage to enter Weber’s home, what he found was so shocking he still struggles to describe it today.

“The, uh. The first thing I saw,” Niles says in the Unsolved Mysteries episode, wiping at his mouth with a handkerchief, “was a cage. Big old cage in the living room. Like a kennel for a big dog, Great Dane or something, except… except, you know, kennels’re usually mostly wire, not that heavy. You can fold ‘em up, put ‘em away. This was… geez. This was pure metal. Bunch of blankets all piled at the bottom, too. Here’s the-... you know, my mind just didn’t want to even make the thought, but I just, I looked at it and-”

In the episode, Niles has to take another moment, here. His eyes grow wet, and his voice is hoarse when he speaks again. “People cage. Bobby had a damn man-sized cage in his living room. That’s when my stomach just fell out. Even then, though, I couldn’t-... I just thought, oh, well, what people get up to in their own homes is their business. But still, I just. I just decided, find Bobby, figure the rest out later. So I kept walking around looking for him.”

Randy Niles continued to call out, hoping to hear Weber’s response, but received none… at first. The radio in the kitchen was playing a local public radio station (“Bobby always hated the country western and classic rock we played at work, he was a big news man, big into classical, jazz, you know.”)

Niles noticed, he says, that the cage next to the couch had a wooden top, as though it were meant to act as a side table, and on that table was a small woven basket. Inside the basket appeared to be several State IDs and Driver’s licenses. Niles took note of this but his first assumption was maybe that Robert Weber had stolen some IDs or something.

Which was technically true, just… not quite the way he thought.

The kitchen, hallway, and all three bedrooms were equally empty of life. Every room was clean, everything neatly in place. Empty bottles of Jameson whiskey, Weber’s favorite brand, were lined up like décor along the mantel, and one half-full bottle was next to two clean, empty glasses on the kitchen table.

Even the beds were perfectly made.

The only thing missing was any sign of Robert Weber himself.

The question of Weber’s whereabouts was answered when Randy Niles heard a sound coming from the open door to Weber’s unfinished dirt basement.

“Like a ghost,” Niles said in his interview. “Just this low moaning sound. Hardly even thought of it as human, you know. But I just-... I called out, ‘Bobby? That you?’ and the moaning got a little louder, like whoever it was was tryin’ to answer. I could still hear my girls in the truck just going nuts, probably worried about me knowing what they maybe could smell even out there. I figured… I figured I’d best call the cops and get them out here. Seemed like a plan. So I picked up my phone and dialed, and then I headed down those basement steps.”

What Randy Niles discovered in Robert Weber’s basement was a dying man, battered and stabbed eight times, lying in a half-dug grave.

Robert Weber had been beaten with the very shovel that had done the digging. The shovel lay off to the side, caked in dirt and blood. Police would find some of Robert Weber’s hair on it, too. Then, the individual who had beaten him had gone back upstairs - blood smears were found on the railing to the stairs - and taken a kitchen knife out of the knife block on the countertop. A bloody fingerprint was found on the side of the knife block. They had then returned to the basement where Weber was stabbed, almost entirely through the stomach and chest, twenty-six times, until the cheap knife simply broke from the force.

Randy Niles admitted in his interview that he became very ill at this time. “From the shock,” He elaborated. “I haven’t been able to smell much since I was in a car wreck when I was young, so I didn’t smell what-... what my girls prob’ly smelled from outside, and what the cops smelled. To me, it was just… just a little off, is all. It was the sight of it that got to me, not the smell. The sight of the-... the hand.”

Behind Robert Weber’s body, the hand of another person was sticking up out of the loose dirt, as though someone was trying to dig their way out.

“I remember… I remember her nail polish was pink. That’s when I got sick, actually, was when I saw that hand with the painted nails. That’s when it just hit me all at once what Bobby had done.”

Randy Niles went back up the stairs and waited for the cops to arrive. Rancher’s Rest is a small town where everybody knows just about everybody else, and Niles was on a first-name basis with every single police officer he spoke to that day and in the days after. He would learn alongside the investigation that Robert Weber was not simply the quiet, intellectual car mechanic he had always seemed.

Instead, Robert Weber was a serial killer whose potential final victim had managed a miraculous, deadly escape.

Robert Weber never answered a single question about his own murder - he never fully regained consciousness and died in the ambulance on the way to the hospital. His injuries were simply too severe. His autopsy showed that the cause of death was a stab wound that went deep into his chest and that he was first stabbed only after the beating with the shovel had taken place. Like Brute, most of his stab wounds were applied post-mortem in a rage rather than as part of the killing itself.

Medical examiners also found scratches on Weber’s face and arms, indicating that he had attempted to defend himself - or someone else had attempted to defend themself from him.

So why was Robert Weber killed, and why was there already a body in his basement? Investigators would piece together the story over the following days and weeks from a crime scene that only seemed to become darker and more baffling as time went on.

Excavating the basement was originally thought to be something that would be brief, but after the first body was removed, another one was found beneath it. Then another off to the side of that. And another, although this was simply bones.

Every time the forensics team thought they’d found the last human bone, they dug a little deeper or in a new spot and found more.

Eventually, the remains of twenty-two individuals would be removed from the basement of Robert Weber’s home, not including Weber himself. The oldest located victim was identified as Melinda Traxson, an Iowa woman reported missing by her family after she ran away in March of 1996… more than two decades before Robert Weber didn’t come to work one day.

Investigators are still working to match up every body with a missing persons’ case. For nearly all of them, the cause of death could not be easily ascertained due to the deterioration of the remains, but some showed signs of skull fractures. Identified individuals so far include:

Melinda Traxson, 19, from Iowa, ran away from home in 1996.

Billie Mortimer, 21, disappeared from a day out with friends at Lake Tahoe one year later in the summer of 1997. Her friends went to get lunch from the car after a swim and when they returned, she was gone.

Matthew Ranger, 22, went missing during a road trip to Yellowstone National Park in 1997 (only five months after Billie). His car was found abandoned by the side of the road with a flat tire.

Karl Janssen, 24, a tourist from the Netherlands who was also visiting Yellowstone, disappeared a month after Matthew. Last seen by an employee of the park who witnessed him speaking with another young man and getting into the man’s car. The employee said that the two seemed to be friendly with one another and did not seem like strangers.

Hannah Pointer, 26. She was reported missing in 1999 by her mother after failing to return home from work in Reno, Nevada. This disappearance occurred more than a year after Karl Janssen’s. Investigators would later discover that during this time period, Robert Weber dated a young woman from his hometown and he may not have wanted to risk her finding out what he was doing.

Isaac Jackson, 26, a Rancher’s Rest resident who disappeared after going out to a local bar to see his friend’s band play in 2000. His car was found submerged in a small pond two years later. This is the first time Weber apparently killed anyone close to home. He was actually briefly suspected in Jackson’s death, as he was the last person noted to see Jackson alive, but was cleared of suspicion at the time.

Dustin Swill, 21, who was driving from Colorado to California to visit his sister who had moved to Berras to work for WRU in 2001. He was last seen in a gas station near Yellowstone, where employees noted he spoke to a man who was smoking outside, who gave him a cigarette. When Swill left, employees saw the man put out his cigarette and leave shortly after. They did not find this unusual or noteworthy at the time.

Maria Vargas, 25, a Rancher’s Rest resident who was reported missing in 2002. Her family is intensely private and have shared few details about her, but it is known that her boyfriend at the time suspected Weber, who had attempted to convince her to leave the boyfriend for him and had apparently threatened her. He remained a suspect but there was never enough evidence to charge him.

Jennifer Striker, 28, from who never arrived for an appointment with a realtor in 2011. The long pause between Maria Vargas’s murder and Jennifer’s appeared to be due to Weber keeping a man named Finn Schneider within his home for more than a year after abducting him, as well as Weber serving five years in prison for a violent assault on a man he believed had sold him a defective vehicle. (Schneider was no longer in the home before the assault and prison time.)

Riley Nievelt, 25, was staying at the Big Meadow Campground with six friends during a weeklong vacation in 2012. She vanished while on a trip to purchase supplies. Her cell phone was found on the ground in the parking lot of the Food Lion in Rancher’s Rest, a short and easy drive away. At this time, with multiple individuals vanishing after being seen in Rancher’s Rest or being residents of the town, police begin to suspect and start hunting for a possible serial killer.

Alexander Peterson, 29, was a long-haul driver who vanished while working. He was last seen at a rest stop in 2014 on the California/Nevada state line, and would likely have passed right through Rancher’s Rest on his journey. He was reported missing by his ex-wife in South Dakota when he did not return as scheduled for a custodial visit.

The most recent victim, and owner of the hand that Randy Niles saw sticking up out of the dirt, was Yolanda Pierce, 26. She was a Rancher’s Rest resident with a troubled relationship with her husband, who had stormed out after an argument and was never seen again. She is believed to have died the same day as Robert Weber.

More remains exist but have not yet been identified. If you or anyone you know has a friend or family member who went missing during this time period in or near Rancher’s Rest, Yellowstone National Park, or Death Valley, it may be worth looking into, as those appear to be Robert Weber’s “hunting grounds”.

Disappearances in Yellowstone and Death Valley almost always matched up with Robert taking one of his rare weeklong vacations from work.

When investigators located three large diaries hidden inside a locked box in Weber’s closet, the first two fully filled up and the third nearly two-thirds finished, they found an exhaustively detailed record of Robert Weber’s crimes.

In these records, they discovered Weber’s first three victims were killed within 24 hours of abduction, with the rest being kept alive for longer and longer time periods. It is believed all of them met their end in Robert Weber’s basement.

Diary entries included records of two victims who were not a part of the bodies buried in Weber’s basement, both of whom may still be alive:

Finn Schneider, 19, a German tourist who disappeared in 2003 during a visit to Death Valley. Until Weber’s journals were found, it was believed he had perished in the park and had simply never been found. Robert Weber also visited Death Valley during this time. No one linked the two together. Evidence found in Weber’s home after his death, including the aforementioned diary entries and photographs, shows that Schneider was alive in Weber’s home for nearly sixteen months. It is believed Weber purchased the “human cage” that Randy Niles noticed around this time. The last diary entry that mentions Schneider states that he was “traded” on June 16th, 2005, to an individual only referred to as “Mouse.” What Weber received in exchange is unclear, but he was seen driving a new, custom-painted truck around this time, which he said he bought “from a personal ad” when asked by Niles about it. Schneider has never been found. However, his mother did receive a phone call in 2013 from an individual she believes to be her son, telling her that “Finn” was okay and to stop looking for him.

Our Box Boy, 334235, purchased by Nathaniel Benson years prior, whose whereabouts had been unknown since he murdered Brute Hanlon. Weber believed the Box Boy to be in his early twenties, according to his diary entries, and mentioned that he had picked the Boxie up hitchhiking and had intended to kill him before seeing the barcode on the inside of his left wrist and changing his mind. His diary suggests the Box Boy remained in his possession for roughly a fourteen months prior to Weber’s murder. Police have not released the details of what the Boxie was subjected to during this time, stating only that it is not the public’s interest for this information to be known, and they would like to locate the missing Boxie and interview him about certain details.

Four murders occurred during the time the Boxie was kept by Robert Weber. Weber noted that “the dog helped” with either murder or burial, suggesting that he may have worked as Weber’s accomplice in his terrible crimes.

Is it possible that they bonded over a shared urge to kill? Did the Boxie start a captive and become a companion?

Weber’s diary contained other disturbing facts, as well:

Weber also noted three failed abduction attempts in detail, in 1998, 2004, and 2017. In each he described with incredible precision of memory the appearances and descriptions of each person he failed to capture. He also appeared to do intensive research using their license plates and other information to find out where they lived and who they were. The names of these individuals have been kept quiet for privacy reasons.

Other failed abductions were noted, about one per year, without much detail. Or at least not enough for police officers to know who they were. Nearly all these failures were in one of three locations: Yellowstone National Park, Stanislaus National Forest and nearby campgrounds, and in or near Death Valley.

The last entry in Robert Weber’s diary was penned the day of his death.

NOTE: Weber referred to the Boxie as “the dog” in nearly all his journal entries. His last entry went:

May 6th, 20XX: The dog is pissed about something again. He’s always pissed about something. I think the thing in the basement probably kept him up all night with her caterwauling. He never gets used to the noises they make. God knows I can’t sleep either, at least not well. I’ll handle her tonight, have a drink with the dog after, see if that shuts up his nonsense for a while. Note: missed NPR interview with Senator Carlotta Grant on new leg. about the bb prohibition act. Find that on website later.

Found in Weber’s home, in boxes under his bed, were a series of restraints made of leather, high-quality items that appear to be custom-ordered to specific measurements. These included “gloves” intended to keep someone from being able to claw or scratch in their own defense, five sets of cuffs, a body harness, a leather half-face-mask that police referred to as a “muzzle”, several gags, some of which were deemed to be “designed to cause injury to the inside of the mouth”, and “other assorted items for use in torture and torment”.

You can find some leaked police docs online that go into more detail, but suffice to say they pretty much match the kinds of “toys” found in Nathaniel Benson and Brute Hanlon’s homes, too. And apparently, if you really know where to look, you can find some blurry low-quality photos Weber took, too.

While the items are a bit salacious, they aren’t entirely uncommon in consensual relationships, too, so it’s really not clear if they’re evidence of the Boxie being held against his will or not.

The investigation of the crime scene suggests that at some point after writing his final diary entry, Robert Weber made himself a pizza, which he ate half of and put the rest away in the fridge. His shaving cream and razor were found out on his sink, and Weber’s body was clean-shaven, suggesting he shaved shortly before his death.

He then watched three episodes of Law & Order: SVU. We know this because he texted during this time with his only living relative, the sister in Vermont. Little is known about Weber’s family and childhood, beyond his sister’s recounting of a quiet, strained home life with an overbearing mother and her mention that Robert endured several head injuries as a child and adolescent, including one that hospitalized him for days.

After he finished watching TV, Weber entered the basement and murdered Yolanda Pierce. It is believed he took the Box Boy downstairs with him, either as accomplice or witness. At some point while he was disposing of Yolanda Pierce’s remains, the Boxie became enraged for one reason or another, beat him with a shovel, got the kitchen knife from upstairs and stabbed him to death, and then left the house.

A neighbor remembers hearing odd noises around 3:30 AM and looking out their window to see a shadowy figure walking quickly down the road, but they weren’t able to see well enough to say whether or not the individual matches the description and WRU-provided photos of the Boxie. It does seem reasonable, though, to assume that the neighbor witnessed the Boxie fleeing the scene of the crime.

The Box Boy has never been seen again.

Police are pretty mum about the active investigation into the Box Boy’s whereabouts. I was able to get ahold of one source closely related to a member of the investigative team who said that there’s just not a lot of urgency. “Weber killed nearly two dozen people, just that we know of,” The source said. “The cops are a little bit ‘good riddance to bad rubbish’ about the situation. Unless the Boxie comes back to RR, they’re just inclined to let sleeping dogs lie.”

The sense of “let it be someone else’s problem” would be understandable… if this Box Boy weren’t responsible for one other direct murder, possibly two.

Police believe the Boxie has not left California, and is likely to be continuing to survive by engaging in prostitution or perhaps panhandling or some other hidden way of making money. Unconfirmed sightings have been located in three cities in central California, but all of these are unverified and should be taken with a grain of salt.

It’s also possible he hooked up with a pet liberation movement group, in which case he may be hiding out in a safehouse, protected from the consequences of his actions by the pet lib movement’s understandable insistence on total secrecy and anonymity for the Boxies they take in.

If he’s an innocent victim of circumstance, that’s fair.

If he’s a burgeoning serial killer with three victims under his belt and a taste for inflicting terrible violence on those who take him in… well… anyone who gives him shelter may be next.

Is our Boxie a purposeful killer or just supremely, almost incomprehensibly unlucky? Will he kill again? Was he Robert Weber’s accomplice or his victim?

Will he strike again?

Should there be an audit of WRU’s psychological testing on potential sign-ups to see if, perhaps, a Box Boy-wannabe with an urge to kill slipped through the cracks?

What do you think?

-

@astrobly @finder-of-rings @burtlederp @whump-tr0pes @raigash @eatyourdamnpears @orchidscript @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @boxboysandotherwhump @outofangband @whumptywhumpdump @whumpfigure @thehopelessopus @downriver914 @justabitofwhump @butwhatifyouwrite @newandfiguringitout @yet-another-heathen @nonsensical-whump @oops-its-whump @endless-whump @cubeswhump @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @whumpiary

[silvermoongirl10swfics]

I trust you with my life

For @codywanweek 2021 Day 3: Lightsaber.

You can also read this fic here on A03.

No warnings. This is written as a 4+1 fic.

1)

Cody tiredly dragged his feet towards his tent, it had been a long day of fighting and finally the day had ended in a win. Obi-Wan was reporting to the Council and then needed to comm Skywalker about what they needed to do tomorrow. Unfortunately, the 501st were on the other side of the planet so Cody couldn’t spend any time with Rex. But that was probably for the best considering the exhaustion pulling at his limbs and his tiredness making his eyes feel like they were burning.

Sighing in relief as he pushed his way through the tent flaps of his tent, Cody rubbed a fist over his eyes. After taking his armour off on auto-pilot, Cody turned to his sleep cot when he slowly realised something was different. After pausing for a moment, so his exhausted mind could spot what was out of place, he noticed perched innocently on his pillow was Obi-Wan’s lightsaber. With a resigned sigh, Cody carefully picked up the lightsaber, muttering mockingly under his breath, “this lightsaber is your life Anakin. Hypocrite.”

He sat on his sleep cot, holding his cyare’s lightsaber in his hands which were resting on his lap. Through force of will, Cody managed to keep himself awake, his head would dip forward as his eyes closed, but he was able to jerk himself back into alertness. Cody wasn’t sure how long he ended up waiting, but despite Obi-Wan having been given his own tent, Cody knew Obi-Wan would make his way to Cody’s tent to sleep, and sure enough the tent flap opened to reveal an equally exhausted looking Jedi. Whose robes were creased and covered in dirt, his copper hair looked brown due to the dirt smeared into the locks and Obi-Wan had dark circles under his eyes to match Cody’s. Obi-Wan stopped and stared at Cody, evidently surprised to find Cody still awake.

“Cod’ika? What?” Obi-Wan stumbled out, unable to ask anything else when Cody just held out a hand, a hand that held a lightsaber in it.

“Misplaced something cyare?” Cody asked in a voice that dripped in fake innocence.

“Um…well yes apparently,” Obi-Wan stuttered out, his face turning red out of slight embarrassment.

Taking pity on his exhausted Jedi, Cody stood up and helped Obi-Wan take off his outer robes and belt, but before they both settled on the cot that was technically designed for one person. Cody smirked as he placed the lightsaber in Obi-Wan’s hands, “this lightsaber is your life.”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes and then turned to place his lightsaber on top of his robes. “Yes, well…I will love you even more if you can refrain from telling Anakin about this little slip.”

“You can love me even more?” Cody joked with a raised eyebrow and a grin. The both of them laid down, Obi-Wan wrapping himself around Cody like a clinging tooka kit.

“It is not a hardship,” murmured Obi-Wan in a tired voice. Cody smiled and kissed his cyare on the forehead, Obi-Wan’s breaths already slow as he drifted into sleep. Once Cody closed his eyes, he was soon following his cyare into a dreamless sleep.

2)

Cody and Ghost company were jogging through a dried-up ravine, knowing that somewhere above them, jumping over the cracks and rocks was their Jedi. It made Cody relax, he didn’t like not knowing what could be in front of them, but they needed to meet up with the rest of the 212th and with Obi-Wan close by, he knew he could trust his cyare to let them know if danger was close.

The only sounds in the ravine were the soft crunching noise the men’s feet made on the sand beneath their feet, their helmets blocking out the sound of their breathing. Then a loud clacking sound, brought everyone to a stop, all on their guard they pointed their blasters behind and in front of them. Until an exasperated sigh broke the silence, “stand down men,” ordered Cody.

He bent down and retrieved the offending item that had knocked against his shoulder pauldron. Cody sighed again as his gloved hand enclosed around the item and stood back up, while activating the private comm channel he had with Obi-Wan. “I believe you are missing something,” he sighed.

There was an evident pause and then a sheepish, “ah. Yes, I do believe I have misplaced something.”

“That something, being your life?” snarked Cody, attaching the lightsaber hilt to his own belt, he then gave the order for Ghost company to start moving out again. “How many times cyare? Am I going to have to tie your lightsaber to your hand?” he added pointedly. This was not helping his stress levels, his cyare’s primary (only weapon), was consistently ending up in Cody’s possession and Obi-Wan detested using ‘uncivilised’ blasters, leaving him unprotected.

“I am sorry,” grumbled Obi-Wan.

Cody retorted, “try better.”

Obi-Wan sucked in a breath to answer back, but was interrupted because apparently Cody served with nosey busybodies who had apparently learnt to hack his private comm channel. “Mother and father are fighting!”

“Boil!” snapped Cody, because it could be no one else saying that.

“Hey! I’m just looking out for my poor vod’ike. Wooley will be upset if you and dad divorce,” sassed Boil.

Cody just sighed and as he was about to reprimand Boil for hacking his comm channel, he heard titters of laughter letting him know the entirety of Ghost company were listening. Obi-Wan just had to join in. “Why am I the father in this Boil?”

“Because Cody is always trying to keep you alive and gives off mama loth-wolf tendencies towards you and us,” Boil commented innocently.

Cody eyed up the rocky sides of the ravine and just pictured knocking his own head against the rocks and slipping into sweet unconsciousness and escaping the insanity. Unfortunately, he had to get Ghost company back to the remainder of the 212th. Shame.

3)

It was beginning to get ridiculous now. Not only had Cody lost count of the number of times he had ended up with Obi-Wan’s lightsaber in his possession, but his cyare was also dramatically throwing his outer robe off and just leaving it strewn on the floor. The first time Cody had found a brown Jedi robe fluttering along the ground in the breeze, he had picked it up to return to his General only to discover Obi-Wan had already put on a different robe. So, Cody just started to leave the robes he picked up in a box in the main storage cupboard on the Negotiator for anyone who wanted a robe as an extra blanket. He wasn’t sure if Obi-Wan knew about it, but considering how many spare robes his cyare seemed to pick up when they were on Coruscant (as he never ran out of robes), Cody wasn’t sure.

So, it was not surprising in the midst of a battle. When General Grievous made his bi-monthly drop-in/actually a gate-crash of a battle he had no reason to be involved in, a part from the single aim of driving Cody’s blood pressure sky high when Obi-Wan would inevitably torment Grievous with his witty comebacks and nearly get killed in retaliation for Grievous not having a sense of humour and taking offense. Obi-Wan spotted his favourite foe to torment, a foe the men had started to call The Runaway General. Named after the romantic comedy film the 212th had illegally watched on the holonet called the Runaway bride. The men had watched the first ten minutes of the film and all decided the bride who always ran away from her weddings reminded them of Grievous. So, now Cody was unable to ever watch that film again as his brothers had thoroughly spoiled it for him. He had tried to watch it again once, but instead all he could imagine was Grievous running away in one of the lace sleeved, A-line dresses the bride wore, veil included. A truly nightmarish image to be stuck in one’s head.

Anyway, The Runaway General made his usual wheezing entrance, if it was anyone else Cody would suggest they should see a medic for that ear grating, hacking cough. But Grievous could go and suck on a bucket of sour sweets for all Cody cared. Obi-Wan’s ocean blue gaze locked in on his favourite foe and Cody just felt the urge to cry, because Obi-Wan had that look in his eyes, the look that meant he was going to enjoy tormenting the ever-living kark out of Grievous and Cody was going to have to try and not have a heart attack. You know, situation normal.

Obi-Wan dramatically threw his outer robe off his shoulders, causing the brown material to swish majestically in the slight breeze, billowing out into an arch above the Jedi’s head and then delicately flittering down to the floor. The Jedi then charged forward, his blue lightsaber held aloft, towards Grievous, a sarcastic quip already on the tip of his tongue.

Cody just sighed.

Then over the comms he heard:

“Ooooh, solid effort that one. Best I’ve seen. I’d say a definite 10/10.”

“I have to agree with you Wooley. That was probably the best robe drop I’ve seen the General do.”

“What is wrong with you Wooley and Waxer? You have clearly forgotten the robe drop on Atollon. That was a far better robe drop. If this one is a 10/10, Atollon has to be a 12/10 at least.”

“That is a very good point Boil. Atollon was just chef’s kiss.”

Cody gritted his teeth and growled. “Focus on what you are supposed to be doing. And stop blocking the battalion comms!”

“Oops. Sorry Commander!” called out Wooley, his tone apologetic. Wooley had clearly been spending too much time with Waxer and Boil.

“Thanks for listening to today’s Dramatic Jedi Robe Drop Scoring. Tune in again when either The Runaway General, Never Had A Bad Hair Day, Kenobi’s Evil Grandfather or Obsessive Hate for Kenobi Kept Me Alive turn up to try and kill our General. See you then folks!”

“Waxer!” shouted Cody, scanning the battlefield for the Lieutenant. Fortunately for Waxer he wasn’t in Cody’s eyeline. Cody just sighed again. It was one of those days.

An hour later, when Grievous had done his usual running away technique, Cody waited by the gunships with Obi-Wan’s robe draped over one arm and his cyare’s lightsaber held in his other hand. Cody also had his helmet clipped to his belt, so he was able to give his cyare an unimpressed looked, raised eyebrow included. Which, when Obi-Wan made his appearance, his cyare directed a sheepish look at Cody.

Once Obi-Wan came to a stop in front of Cody, he took his lightsaber and clipped it onto his own belt and put on his robe. “Ah, thank you cyare,” Obi-Wan said, with a bright smile on his face.

Cody rolled his eyes. “Must we do this during every battle?”

Obi-Wan plastered an innocent look on his face, knowing full well Cody was going to mock him with ‘this lightsaber is your life’ lecture. So, instead Obi-Wan shrugged and said. “This really is a compliment, Cody.”

Heaving a heavy sigh, Cody just shook his head. “Suuureee, it is.”

4)

Yet another battle the 212th had been sent to, another battle where they were fighting against impossible numbers. However, the 212th were holding their ground and Cody felt victory would soon be in their grasp. Obi-Wan had even manged to hold onto his lightsaber, miracles of miracles. Cody had also heard on the comms, that Obi-Wan had dropped his robe to go against some tanks and apparently this robe drop scored a 7/10.

But then a loud explosion ripped through the air, Cody turned, his cyare was stopping the tanks not to far away and sure enough the explosions were coming from the tanks. Then Cody frowned, there was a silver item spinning through the air as it headed straight for Cody.

Seeing the sunlight glint off the item, Cody changed his HUD settings and sighed, “not again.” He had apparently spoken too soon. Flying through the air was his cyare’s lightsaber.

As the lightsaber got closer, Cody lifted up his hand and caught the lightsaber and immediately clipped it to his belt.

“Ooooh. Nice catch Commander!” yelled Waxer over the comms.

“A definite 10/10!” added Wooley, with awe in his voice.

“We should really start adding the Commander’s lightsaber catches to our scoring commentary,” stated Boil.

Cody just sighed, apparently his sigh could be heard over the comms because a voice suddenly rang out over the comms. “That wasn’t my fault, Cody!” Obi-Wan burst out in self-defence, his voice cracking slightly on Cody’s name.

“Somehow, I’m not entirely convinced,” Cody retorted dryly. He ignored the titters of laughter over the comms and smirked to himself.

+ 1)

The 212th had been sent to an Outer-Rim planet, for Obi-Wan to try and negotiate peace between to warring tribes on the planet. It was a nice change for Cody and his brothers, the tribespeople, of both tribes, were very friendly towards them. Nicer than many citizens on Coruscant, which said a lot to the men in the 212th. Obi-Wan was needed for his negotiating skills and it gave Cody the opportunity to see his cyare as the peaceful Jedi he should be, not the General he was.

Cody couldn’t go into the hastily contrasted hut, built on neutral ground by both tribespeople as a sign of wanting to end the hostilities. Obi-Wan had to go in alone with the Councils of both tribes. Cody didn’t mind, he didn’t get hostile vibes from the tribes and it meant he could watch as his brothers ran around and played with the children of both tribes. A sight that he could see soften the most hardened warriors of each tribe, leading to the female and male warriors to intermix with the opposing tribe. The Council members saw this and Cody noticed the tension in their shoulders fade away, he turned, feeling someone come and stand beside him.

“I believe my job has just been made easier,” Obi-Wan stated with a bright smile on his face. The Jedi held one of Cody’s hands, and smiling to himself, Cody squeezed his cyare’s hand in response.

“Amazing what children can accomplish,” replied Cody, watching as Waxer, Wooley, Boil, Longshot, Gearshift, Trapper, Meteor, Blackeye and Flycatcher began a game of chase with a hoard of children.

“And your brothers,” Obi-Wan admonished lightly. Cody felt his heart swell with love, knowing how deeply Obi-Wan cared about his brothers, made it even easier to fall in love with the Jedi.

“As I said. Children,” retorted Cody, humour plain in his voice.

Obi-Wan shook his head as he chuckled to himself. Hearing the Council members state they were ready for the negotiations to begin, Cody squeezed Obi-Wan’s hand again, and then let his cyare’s hand go. Obi-Wan turned to face him fully and gently pressed their lips together, before either one of them could be tempted to deepen the kiss, Obi-Wan pulled away. He then placed something in Cody’s hand. In confusion Cody lifted his hand up to find himself holding Obi-Wan’s lightsaber. “I can’t take weapons in with me to the negotiations as is custom, so I leave my life in your trusty hands,” stated Obi-Wan.

Cody felt his throat tighten with emotion and he nodded as he swallowed heavily. “Always.” With one more smile and kiss, Obi-Wan was walking away and towards the waiting Council members. Cody smiled to himself as he looked down at the lightsaber in his hand, he clipped it to his belt and taking a leaf out of his brothers’ book. He ran to join in the game of chase, the delighted squeals and laughter of the children and his brothers filling his heart up with joy.

End note:

My mum was watching the film Runaway Bride and I couldn’t resist writing Grievous in a wedding dress, I wish I could draw this image (Cody is probably glad I can’t) but I can’t even draw decent stick people. So I hope my descriptions of Grievous in a wedding dress make it seem funny, I was giggling to myself as I wrote it.

Trying to come up with nicknames the 212th would have made for Ventress, Dooku and Maul was actually harder than I thought it would be 😂

[codythecheshirecat]

Is This The Start, Midpoint, or Finale? Chapter 2: (Breaking) Monotony

Codywan Merman/Modern AU

Story Summary: Cody has spent the last several months recovering from a car crash that completely upturned his life. When spending a day on the St. Lawrence River, he finds something that should be impossible-- a merman. An injured merman. And, well, there’s not much to do except bring him home and fix him up.

    Cody gets home without the merman waking. He carries him in, setting him on one part of the sectional. By now his leg is practically screaming at him, but he continues to ignore it. I should call Kix. He does, and as it rings, he thinks about what he should say. I found a merman. No, that’s a terrible idea. I found a naked man- no, even worse. Kix picks up before he’s made up his mind.

    “Cody?” Kix asks groggily. “Something wrong?”

    “Ifoundaninjuredmanonthebeach.” He says, all in a rush.

    A pause. “And you haven’t brought him to the hospital?”

    Fuck. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. Could you come over? He has some sort of infected cut-”

    Kix sighs. “Yeah, sure. Do your best to clean it out before I get there. Lightly. If there’s dirt or sand in it. And set some water to boil.”

    With that, Kix hangs up. Cody tosses his phone onto the rocking chair. What have I gotten myself into? With a groan, Cody puts a pot of water on the stove and turns it on. Then he wets a washcloth with warm water. For the ten minutes it takes Kix to arrive, he meticulously, carefully, clears away as much sand and debris as he can. The merman moans, but doesn’t wake, and in the better lighting of his living room it doesn’t look good. The skin around the laceration is red and inflamed with spots of yellow-white, not to mention the pus that comes away with every swipe of the washcloth.

    He wonders, faintly, what caused the injury and how long the merman has had it. It doesn’t even look like he tried to treat it, but maybe merpeople medicine looks different? Do merpeople live in the St. Lawrence? There’s no way. People would know. So he must’ve come from the ocean. Why would he come all the way in from the ocean?

    Kix arrives, startling him from his thoughts.

Cody lets him in. “Sorry to wake you.”

Kix raises an eyebrow. “Let’s see the beach man.”

Cody grimaces and brings him to the living room.

“You didn’t say he was naked, Cody.”

“My bad.”

Kix sighs. He sets a medkit on the coffee table. “Tell you what. Make me some coffee and then get off your fucking feet. I’ll check him out.”

“Thanks, Kix.”

“You owe me.”

***

    Kix spends the night, and most of the next day, intermittently sleeping and checking up on the merman. The merman doesn’t wake once, but Kix isn’t that worried. When he finally leaves, it’s around two in the afternoon.

    “Call me when he wakes up, or if anything gets worse,” Kix says, “and have you told Rex yet?”

    “No,” Cody says. He rubs his eyes. “Forgot. He won’t be back for a month, anyway.”

    Once Kix leaves, Cody takes a shower. He spends ten minutes just standing under the warm water wondering if he should be keeping the merman in water despite the fact that he can apparently shapeshift into a normal person. He looks human, but can he be treated medically like humans? What if the medications Kix gave him for the merman just end up hurting him more? Does he still need to be in water even with the legs?

    What do mermen eat?

    When he finally finishes his shower, he makes his way to his bedroom. He takes the medications he’s supposed to be taking (he should’ve taken them this morning but he’d forgotten, and then gotten distracted) and does the stretches and exercises he’s supposed to for physical therapy that he’s been slacking on. He’d definitely overtaxed himself, which means he should be taking it easy for the next week.

    ...yeah, that probably won’t be happening. Fuck.

    After that, he heads to the kitchen and makes a bowl of cereal. Cody eats it slowly, robotically, not really tasting it; something he’s used to, lately. He washes the dishes after, does a load of laundry, spends ten minutes debating whether he should mow the lawn (he decides that no, that’s a terrible idea, if Kix finds out he’ll end up tied to his bed for a week).

    And like that, three days pass. Cody tries, intermittently, to get the merman to drink something in his sleep. He tries to make him wake up, too, just to be sure the merman is actually going to wake up. Kix visits for an hour, checking up on the both of them. He says the merman is ‘fine’ and then threatens to sit on Cody just to make sure he gets off his feet.

    Cody tells him that would probably injure his ribs more. Kix tells him to shut up and sit down for a bit.

***

    Thursday morning, Cody walks out of his bedroom, half-dressed and intent on taking a shower before he does anything else. As he walks through the living room, movement catches his eye. He stops. He looks at the couch. The merman is awake, staring curiously at him, unmoved from the position he’s been laying in for days.

     Cody smiles at him. “Morning.”

     The merman’s brows furrow.

     Cody doesn’t move. “My name’s Cody. I don’t know if you can understand me, but-”

     “I can understand you.” The merman says, voice raspy. He has a British accent; or, at least, an accent that resembles one.

     Huh. “I wasn’t sure. The other night at the beach you were pretty aggressive.”

     “Apologies.”

     Uh, apology accepted? “It’s not a problem. You’re in my house, anyway. I had my brother Kix patch you up.”

     “Why?”

     Cody shrugs, uncomfortable. “Why not? You looked like you could use the help.”

     The merman blinks. He shuffles, propping himself up with his arms, and looks down at the blanket covering him. He frowns at it. “Do you have… water?” He asks finally.

    “Water to drink or water to swim in?”

    The merman turns his frown to Cody. Cody watches his feet wiggle around under the blanket. In one swift movement, the merman pulls the blanket off of him and lets it fall to the floor. Seeing as Cody wasn’t going to try and find clothes that fit the merman, nor was he going to try to dress him, he’s still naked. The merman swings his legs over the edge of the couch, grimacing.

    Cody frowns. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea-”

    The merman doesn’t listen. He pushes himself up, standing, grimacing at the pain that must be coming from his side. Then the merman pitches forward, losing his balance, and Cody rushes forward to keep him from slamming into the floor or bashing his head on the coffee table.

    Once again, Cody has a naked man in his arms. His face heats. His leg throbs. He ignores both in favor of guiding the merman back onto the couch. “You don’t know how to walk, do you?” He grunts.

    The merman wheezes. He at least looks embarrassed. “Ah, no. I didn’t realize it would be so difficult.”

    “Have you ever even been out of the water before?”

    The merman flushes even more. “No. I’ve heard things about it, of course, that’s how I know your language. But I’ve never… actually…” the merman looks at him. “My name is Obi-Wan.”

    That’s an odd feeling in his chest, Cody thinks distantly. “Nice to meet you, Obi-Wan. Did you open your stitches?”

    Obi-Wan runs his hand softly over the bandages wrapped around his abdomen. “No, I don’t believe so.”

    “Good.” Cody says. “I’m going to get you a cup of water. Stay here.”

    “Yes, sir.” Obi-Wan mumbles as Cody straightens.

    His face heats more. Cody makes a very conscious decision not to think about that too deeply. He gets a cup of water, filled halfway, and returns to Obi-Wan. Who hasn’t covered himself with the blanket again. Cody makes a very conscious decision about that, too, namely, to only look at Obi-Wan’s face from now on.

    He gives Obi-Wan the cup. Do merpeople use cups? Probably not. But Obi-Wan doesn’t seem to have any trouble drinking from it, so he stops thinking about that. When he’s done, Obi-Wan hands him the cup back.

    “Are you hungry? It’s been a few days.” Cody asks.

    Obi-Wan shrugs. “Not particularly.”

    Cody frowns. “I’m going to give Kix a call. He wanted to know when you woke up. Before that, though, I’m going to take a shower, like I originally planned. Is there anything else you need before I go do that?”

    Obi-Wan shrugs again. “I’m alright, Cody, thank you.”

    Cody gives him a searching look. He says that all the time, and he’s usually lying. That doesn’t mean Obi-Wan is lying, though… He sighs. “Alright, I’ll be done in ten minutes.”

    He’s almost to the bathroom when he hears Obi-Wan mutter “What’s minutes?” to himself.

[tennessoui]

kit. babe. kit. I'm not gonna make it. I literally read this chapter of vowbreaker and almost cried. hOW AM I SUPPOSED TO READ THE REST OF IT (how are you supposed to write the rest of it??). Im not sure enough blankets and cuddles and hot chocolate will ever make me warm or whole again (which is Im sure how anakin will feel too .-.)

(2/2) not to send a second ask about vowbreaker within 5 goddamn minutes but. you know how when they put out Grave of the Fireflies they did it as like a double release with My Neighbor Totoro bc Grave of the Fireflies was just too fucking sad?? so that's how I feel about this fic Im gonna go find some fluffy obikin and just line it up for the next ten years so I have something to read every time there's a new vowbreaker chapter (you're doing great but also ahhhhh)

omg bestie this feels so true even as the writer, i mean i knew it would be SAD but then also im like. actively trying to make it worse. half the newest vowbreaker chapter was just throw-backs to old bits of fic because they're an old married couple now etc etc except NOT FOR LONG

i will try for both of our sakes to put some comedy in there while anakin thinks obi-wan is dead.

like anakin calls obi-wan's phone nubmer to hear his voice message and the idiot accidentally picks up because it's very late at night.

or anakin walks in on cody arguing over the phone that of course he let anakin watch the godfather, he didn't think it was going to make the kid CRY that's not even what real mob bosses are like and he should know that!!

or cody secretly making anakin accept and enroll in his phd program even though he's too grief dead to even realize what's going on so cody has to write his thesis proposal for him pretending to be anakin while frantically trying to figure out what the hell biomedical anthropology is.

[geodax]

Obi-wan’s drink being spiked and everyone instantly being super protective of him?

So... this turned out way longer and much more painful than I planned. 

WARNINGS for rape/non-con (it’s not graphic at all, but the whole story is focused on the aftermath) 

Cody glances around the bar from his perch in a dark corner. His seat is the only one that gives him an unobstructed view of every corner of the place, allowing him to keep an eye of every one of his men. They’re relaxing and celebrating a hard earned victory, as they should, but Cody has no intention of letting things get out of hand.

Waxer is on stage, loudly singing a karaoke song Cody is sure Waxer has never heard before. Waxer had briefly managed to drag Boil up with him, but Boil had quickly slunk back into the crowd the moment Waxer had become engrossed in the song. He narrows his eyes as Longshot adds another shot glass to a growing pyramid and Wooley talks up one of the locals. They don’t see to be too drunk or out of it, so he leaves them be. For now.

Cody freezes when his eyes find only an empty chair where the general had been sitting. The drink Obi-wan had been nursing sits abandoned.

Cody practically vaults over the table to reach the drink before the bartender clears it. His instincts are screaming at him. Obi-wan wouldn’t leave his drink unattended. And he wouldn’t just leave the bar without telling Cody.

It takes less than a second to find Bandage’s brilliant blue hair in the crowd and yank him over to Cody’s side.

“Scan it,” Cody growls and shoves the drink into Bandage’s hand. Bandage fumbles for a moment before realization hits him. This is where the general was sitting, a fact every clone here is at least subconsciously aware of.

Bandage jams the end of his scanner into the drink. A moment later, the screen blinks red. “Fuck,” Bandage breathes.

“What’d they give him?” Cody asks.

“Roofie, extremely highly concentrated,” Bandage says. “Even with the Force to help metabolize it, he’d still be hit hard.”

“Get the men,” Cody growls. “We’re going hunting.”

-----

It takes them ten minutes to find Obi-wan. Ten minutes for the most efficient army in the galaxy to comb through the area, following leads and seeking out the most likely places Obi-wan could have been taken too. They tear apart the bar and the back rooms. They interrogate everyone they can get their hands on and hack into every security feed they can find.

It still takes ten minutes too long.

They find Obi-wan in the backroom of the building next door with a man crouching over his prone body. The man is dead, shot in the back a dozen times over, before he even realizes he’s been found.

Obi-wan doesn’t react to them. The drugs have left him paralyzed, but he’s awake and at least somewhat aware of them, according to what Bandage told him about the drug. Cody wishes he were not. Too be totally helpless as someone—

Cody shudders. He can’t let himself think about it. Obi-wan needs him here, not chasing down whoever helped make this possible and burning a trail of destruction through the city.

“Obi-wan?” Cody says. “We’re going to take you back to the Negotiator. You’ll be safe. He won’t touch you again.”

He wants to kneel down and pull Obi-wan into his arms. He wants to carry him right back to the ship and cover him with blankets and pillows and ensure that no one ever gets the chance to do this again, but Bandage had warned him that touch might not be what Obi-wan needs right now.

Bandage drapes a blanket over Obi-wan’s nude body, then moves him onto a stretcher. A groan escapes Obi-wan. The entire squad stiffens, but the medics don’t stop. They have a job to do.

The rest of them don’t.

It only makes Cody feel more helpless.

“Get Judicial in here to deal with the body,” Cody says before he can spiral further. His men are looking to him with fear in their eyes. They don’t know how to deal with this. This isn’t battle. This isn’t something listed in the reg manuals with clear instructions on how best to resolve the situation.

This is their general. Their friend.

Their brother.

“Tell everyone the general is alive but keep any other info to yourselves. I don’t know how the general wants this handled, but until he wakes up and decides, you say nothing else. Understood?” Cody says.

“Understood, sir,” the squad says in unison.

“Get everyone back to the ship. We’re leaving this planet at sunup.”

Cody watches them leave, then allows himself to slowly sink to the floor. How could he let this happen? Obi-wan had been out of sight for less than five minutes. He’d been happy and relaxed, surrounded by clones and flirting civilians. There wasn’t supposed to be any danger.

His fists tighten. He glares at the body on the ground and wishes for a moment that he was still alive so that Cody could kill him again, slowly this time.

-----

“What happened?” Obi-wan asks from his medical bed. The drugs are flushed from his system. The cuts and scrapes have been healed with bacta. He looks just like his old self, complete with neatly brushed hair, courtesy of one of the medics.

Cody’s heart squeezes in his chest. He doesn’t want to tell Obi-wan what happened, doesn’t want to remind him of what was done to him when he couldn’t fight back. If Obi-wan doesn’t have any clear memories of it, surely it would be better to just pretend it was a bad dream. It would be easier for him, wouldn’t it?

Cody looks down at the floor. He won’t keep this from Obi-wan, as much as he wants to protect him from the truth.

“You were drugged,” Cody says. “At the bar last night.”

“Oh,” Obi-wan says, then he looks himself over. He briefly wiggles his fingers and toes, then smiles. “Well, it looks like you saved me before anything unfortunate happened. Thank you, Commander.”

“No,” Cody says.

“What?”

“I was too late.”

Obi-wan’s head tilts to the side. He shifts slightly in bed, then stills. No doubt he’s beginning to feel the aftereffects of what happened, despite Bandage’s efforts to minimize it. Pain medicine only hides so much and bacta can only heal so fast. “Commander?” Obi-wan asks, quieter now.

“I’m sorry,” Cody says. His voice catches on the lump in his throat. He’s supposed to have Obi-wan’s back, just like Obi-wan has always had his. How could he let this happen? How can he expect Obi-wan to ever trust him again?

“Cody?” Obi-wan says. “It wasn’t your fault.”

Cody shakes his head and tries to pull himself back together. He’s no use to Obi-wan like this. Obi-wan needs someone he can help him through this, not someone that can’t even keep themselves together.

“Cody?” Obi-wan asks, and there’s a hint of panic in his voice now. “Cody? What happened?”

“You were raped,” Cody says before he can chicken out. He wants to run from the room and pretend this never happened. But reality isn’t so forgiving.

“Oh,” Obi-wan says, then forces out a strained laugh. “You made it sound like it was something much worse. From the way you were acting, I thought you had burned the whole city down.” Obi-wan shakes his head. “I’m fine, Commander. Don’t beat yourself up.”

“General, you’re not—” Cody says, but Obi-wan waves him off.

“Don’t make a big deal of it. I hardly remember.”

“But you do remember something.”

Obi-wan’s eye twitches. “No, I don’t. I’m fine. I’m more worried about you. Have you slept at all?”

“I’m fine,” Cody says, but the words taste sour on his tongue. He’s exhausted and terrified of the new mask Obi-wan wears. The mask further solidifies with each passing second as Obi-wan appears to grow more relaxed and unconcerned.

Cody scrambles to find something to talk about to fill the growing silence between them. The easy connection he had felt with Obi-wan before is gone. He doesn’t know how to act, how to apologize, how to restore the balance between them.

He falls back onto the very foundation, the relationship between general and commander. He knows how to be a commander.

“I’ve recalled the men back to the ship,” Cody says.

“What for?” Obi-wan asks. “We still have another forty-eight hours of leave.”

“We can’t be sure if there was Separatist involvement in the attack until an investigation has been completed. I decided it would be safer to bring everyone back, just in case.”

“Separatist involvement is unlikely,” Obi-wan says. “There’s no reason to sacrifice your leave on my account.”

“We can’t be sure of that,” Cody says, but he knows better. The Separatists would have captured or killed Obi-wan. They had nothing to gain from this. “Besides, I wanted to run some drills with them, keep everybody in top shape.”

“Of course,” Obi-wan says. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I do so hate the feeling of bacta on my skin. I’m going to go clean up.”

-----

They were supposed to return to Coruscant. The Jedi have a protocol for attacks like these, but the Senate had been less than pleased. General Kenobi was too valuable to be pulled from the war effort unless whatever happened began to affect his performance. It was an opinion shared by Obi-wan himself, which meant the Jedi Council had been effectively overridden.

Cody hasn’t seen him since.

He’d sent Waxer to look for him, but Waxer had returned without success. “He doesn’t want to see me,” Waxer had told Cody. “I’m not the one he needs to talk to.”

Cody sighs as he finishes the rest of his caf. Perhaps he could send one of the medics to find Obi-wan. They always seemed able to sniff him out when Obi-wan didn’t think medical attention was necessary. And if that doesn’t work, maybe he can come up with some reason to get Skywalker here.

“Reset,” Cody yells out across the rec room. A chorus of groans follows. They’ve been running drills all night, but the 212th needs to be at their best. Lately, their battle formations have been sloppy, their endurance failing, their awareness diminishing when it shouldn’t be. It’s unacceptable.

Much to the relief of the men, Cody’s comm beeps, summoning him to the bridge for a briefing. Cody scowls. They should run the drill again, but the men will need their rest before battle. Exhaustion will get them all killed before their sloppiness does.

“Get some rest and prepare for battle,” Cody calls out. “You’re dismissed.”

The outpouring of relief grates on Cody’s nerves. The 212th only accepts the best of the best. If these men aren’t up to the challenge, then they should transfer to another battalion. Cody doesn’t need their negativity infecting the ranks.

He reaches the bridge with a list of names in his head to slate for transfer. Hopefully, that will be enough to bring their efficiency back within acceptable levels.

Cody freezes in the doorway. Obi-wan is there, standing in front of the holotable with his arms cross over his chest. His face and hands are faintly abraded, like they’ve been scrubbed for too long, but otherwise, he looks fine.

Cody swallows as guilt crawls up his throat. Obi-wan won’t look at him, hasn’t even greeted him. Cody had let him down, had betrayed the trust their relationship was built on. No doubt Obi-wan will reassign him soon. The 212th has to be perfect before that happens. If Cody isn’t here to protect Obi-wan, he needs someone in his place who can.

Perhaps Rex. The captain had kept Skywalker and Tano alive despite all odds.

“General Mundi,” Obi-wan says as the other general’s hologram appears.

“We’ve detected some irregular transmissions from Dantooine,” General Mundi says. “I don’t have the troops to spare to investigate.”

“I believe General Secura is in range,” Obi-wan says.

“She’s busy.”

Obi-wan scowls. “The 212th is an attack battalion. Not an investigative detachment.”

“You’ve had many hard won victories in the past weeks. Another few days of light duty will allow your men time to recover and reenergize. We plan on taking Muunilist soon. We’ll need your battalion at its absolute best.”

Obi-wan’s eyes narrow. “I wasn’t involved in that decision.”

“Orders from the Chancellor,” Mundi says. “We haven’t made any decisions on the matter, but be assured, we will use your tactical knowledge when the time comes.”

Obi-wan is still on edge, but his hands are no longer tightly balled. Obi-wan had never protested investigative assignments before. Maybe he’s itching to return to battle. Cody knows some of the men are growing restless as well.

“I understand,” Obi-wan says. “We will depart immediately.”

“Master Kenobi, Commander Cody,” Mundi says as his hologram deactivates.

“Set course for Dantooine,” Cody says to the bridge.

“Yes, sir,” a dozen voices say as the technicians set to work. It should take less than a day to arrive.

“Have my fighter prepared,” Obi-wan says. “I’ll conduct the investigation.”

“I’m sending a detachment of clones with you,” Cody says. It is an absentminded comment, one that probably would have passed without notice before, but it’s hard to miss the sudden chill in the air.  

“That won’t be necessary,” Obi-wan says.

Cody frowns. “You can’t go down to a planet alone.”

“Do you think I’m incompetent?”

Cody steps back. Surely, Obi-wan knows he can’t go down to the planet alone. He needs to be protected. “Of course not, but it doesn’t hurt to be cautious.”

“I’m a Jedi master,” Obi-wan says. “I am perfectly capable of conducting an investigation on a Republic controlled planet. I don’t need a babysitter.”

“It’s just a protection detail.”

“It’s a waste of resources.”

“No, it’s a necessary use of resources.”

“Hardly. You’re being ridiculous. I can look after myself!”

“Obviously, you can’t! Look what happened to you!” Cody regrets the words the moments the escape him. “I, no, that’s not—”

The flash of hurt in Obi-wan’s eyes disappears behind a stone cold mask. It’s the same facial expression Cody has seen turned on enemy generals and slavers. “I’ve made my decision, Commander. You’re dismissed.”

“General,” Cody says. “I didn’t mean—”

“I said, you’re dismissed.”

Cody bows his head and leaves.

-----

“I’m not going to let you submit this,” Waxer says.

Cody scowls. He only needs Waxer’s signature on Cody’s transfer paperwork so Waxer can take temporary command while the GAR finds a replacement for him. He hadn’t wanted an outsider to be pulled in as a temporary commander, but he’s beginning to think he should have found someone else. Waxer had always been too sentimental.

“My relationship with the general is beyond repair,” Cody says. “I’d rather have some control over my transfer rather than just wait to be reassigned. You’d make a fine temporary commander. Sign it.”

“No.”

Cody snatches back the datapad with his transfer paperwork. Perhaps Trapper would be a better choice for temporary commander.  

“Commander,” Waxer says. “This won’t fix anything. Kenobi doesn’t want another commander.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Cody, he’s been hurt. He needs his friends. You can’t just abandon him.”

“I’m not abandoning him! This is what’s right for both of us.”

“Do you really believe that? All Kenobi will see is you leaving,” Waxer says.

“But we can’t work together.”

“You can’t work together because you haven’t dealt with this. Kenobi hasn’t lost respect for you. It’s your guilt that’s making you feel that way, so you’re overcompensating. You’re treating Kenobi like glass. And that’s exactly how he doesn’t want to be treated.”

Cody stops himself from denying it. He’s worked the men to the bone just so they would be better equipped to protect Kenobi. He had redone security for half the ship to ensure no one could get with a hundred yards of Kenobi’s quarters without an alarm going off.

“Talk to him,” Waxer says. “And fix this. Or I will drag lock you both in a supply closet until you do.”

“Threatening a superior officer is grounds for a court martial,” Cody says, but there’s no bite in his words. Waxer is right about one thing. He can’t avoid talking about this, even if its just to make sure Kenobi understands why he’s leaving.

-----

He finds Kenobi in one of the small rec rooms working his way through a series of lightsaber katas. Bandage had been the one to point him here. Apparently, a few clones had become concerned when they realized Kenobi had started working out here for hours on end and told Bandage about it. Bandage said it was part of how Kenobi was coping, especially now that he was having flashbacks of the event, but Cody doesn’t see how this could possibly be part of the healing process.

Kenobi’s arms and legs are covered in burns from a low powered saber, a result of his movements growing sloppier as he exhausted himself. His eyes are puffy and red, but he isn’t crying. Not anymore.

Cody’s heart squeezes in his chest, but he can’t let himself back down. He has to do this.

“General Kenobi,” Cody says. “I, uh, I wanted to let you know that I’m transferring from the 212th.”

The lightsaber wobbles, but Kenobi doesn’t stop his exercise.

“It’s not because of you. I, just, it’s me. I—”  

“You can’t even stand to be around me,” Kenobi says. He powers down his lightsaber and hooks it to his belt. “There’s no need to sugarcoat. Send in your transfer paperwork. I’ll be sure it goes through quickly.”

“No, that’s not it. I, just, things can’t continue like they have. This is what’s best for both of us.”

Kenobi steps forward, reaching out to him, and Cody steps back. He can’t let himself reach back. They have to move on. This is the right thing.

“Do I disgust you that much?” Kenobi asks.  

Cody’s eyes begin to burn, but he keeps stepping backwards. He’s let Obi-wan down. He’s destroyed everything they’ve had between them. He needs to leave before he makes anything worse.

“All you’ve done is avoid me since it happened. I thought—” Kenobi finally looks up to meet his eyes. “I thought we were friends.”

Cody’s resolve crumbles. “I let you down. I let that happen to you and I couldn’t even get there in time to stop it. I broke your trust, I destroyed our friendship, and I know you hate me for that, but I’m just trying to leave before I make it worse.”

“Cody,” Kenobi says. His hand falls on Cody’s shoulder. Cody doesn’t back away. “I could never hate you.”

“But on the bridge—”

“Everyone sees me as a victim. But I’m still me. I was angry you couldn’t see past what happened to me.”

Cody stills as he realizes Kenobi’s right. All the work he had done was because he couldn’t see past what happened. He couldn’t accept that Kenobi was capable of defending himself, couldn’t see him as more than what happened to him. He could only see his own failures. And he had projected it onto Kenobi in the worst way possible.

“I’m sorry,” Cody says. “For everything.”  

Obi-wan’s stone mask cracks. “I don’t disgust you?”

“No. I got caught up in my own thoughts and it all came out wrong. I shouldn’t have let that happen.”

“It’s not your fault. I was hurting, so I pushed everyone away. Including you. I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Cody steps forward with his arms outstretched. It’s an invitation and a promise that they can be friends, not just general and commander.

Obi-wan drifts inwards, and slowly wraps his arms around Cody. “I missed you,” he whispers.

Cody closes his eyes. “I missed you, too.”

[morganas-pendragons]

until i fall asleep | obi-wan

hi i just really love him okay 

this prompt was given to me by one of my favorite people on twitter - ily anais, you’re adopted now - and I immediately had an image for how this would go so enjoy some soft and sad Obi-Wan. 

song: till i fall asleep - Jayme Dee 

tag: @karasong​ // @obiorbenkenobi​ // @dressed-up-heartbreak​ // @anakinsahsoka​ 

obi-wan tag list open 

***

You can’t sleep. 

No matter how hard you try, your brain will not simply turn off. You toss and turn in the darkness of your bedroom in a futile attempt to try and succumb to the exhaustion that settles low in your bones, but every three seconds your brain keeps thinking about him. About the man you love, who is not here, and is away fighting a war. 

A war you don’t think he’s going to come back from. 

You can’t sleep. 

If you would just slow down.. you would see 

We were meant for something 

You weren’t supposed to love him. Here you were - two Jedi living two lives in the middle of a war that neither side seemed to be winning - and you both were so haunted, so devastated by all the death that it was purely a miracle he somehow managed to come home to you. 

Lay your armor down and stay with me

Aren’t you tired of running? 

He’d been repressing his desires to be with you since you were teenagers, fully enveloping his heart and his feelings in the heat of the Battle of Geonosis when he’d said i love you across the bond you’d formed as créchelings. 

When the two of you smiled at each other in the midst of what felt like the ending of the world, you knew this was right. No matter what the Jedi said. No matter what the Code said. 

You loved Obi-Wan, and he loved you, and that was what mattered. 

But you still can’t sleep. You can’t sleep because you love him so much that you don’t know what you’ll do if you lose him - you, the créche master of the younglings in the Temple and him a High General of the GAR - or if you have to be the one to bury him. The thought consumes you. Terrifies you. 

You’re not a fighter. You’re a carer, someone who looks after people. 

But he’ll go down fighting even if it leads him to a premature grave. 

Can we go back before the storm came raging

And everything we built was gone? 

A day becomes a week, and before you know it, you’ve gone nearly a week and a half with less then 48 hours of sleep. Naps here and there. A quick snooze when the kids are preoccupied. 

Your nights are filled with nightmares. 

So sing to me till I fall asleep

Like the way you did when you were still mine 

Obi-Wan comes home from the front a bloody, weary mess - he has a nasty gash down his temple that almost resembles Cody’s, which he finds hilarious - and he wants nothing more then to shower and pass out in your arms for the next ten years. 

Instead of the brightness in your eyes and the loving nature of your embrace, Obi-Wan comes home to your haunting - the way you scream will forever be in his memory - and an overwhelming ache that resonates so strongly through The Force that he’s sure it’s pierced his soul. 

  “Oh.. stars.” 

Your eyes snap open and flutter wildly in the darkness of the room. It’s hard to contain the broken whimper building in your throat when you see the silhouette in the dim light coming from your kitchenette - that is most definitely the man you love standing before you - and a watery smile turns your expression hopeful as you extend your hand. 

And tell me then it’s not over yet

We were never good at saying goodbye 

  “Obi-Wan.” 

Oh.. how he loved the hellos. 

Can’t you see what’s right in front of your eyes? 

  “Hello darling.” He greets lowly, shedding his robes and his tunic before removing his boots and his pants and exchanging them for sleepwear. Your bleary eyes admire his figure as he goes - you are so kriffing exhausted, but he doesn’t need to know that - and as always, Obi-Wan Kenobi is perceptive. “Are you alright?” 

Blue pierces you through the dark. You’ve been so involved in the black of night, of the darkness you’re constantly in even when you’re at The Temple, that you almost forgot what that looked like.

  “No.” You feel stupid for this. “Not a bit.” 

  “What’s going on? I’ve only been gone for a week and a half.” He replies, peeling the blankets back and opening his arms for you to fall into them. “Hey... my love, it’s just me.” 

Your fingers are tightly fisted into the sheets and your eyes won’t stop twitching. You can’t sleep. 

But now, it’s not that you can’t. It’s that you won’t. 

Remember our first kiss 

That starry night 

It felt like we were flying 

  “When you’re not here, I dream about you.” You begin. You’re too caught up in your thoughts to feel him shift to sit behind you, legs opened, arms gently wrapping around your middle to pull your back against his chest. “Our first kiss... Force, I’ve never felt something so powerful in my life. The first time you said I love you when you saw me in the arena on Geonosis. The first time we laid together..

He blushes in the dark. That night was one of if not the best of his entire life. 

  “Being with you, Obi-Wan, is right. In fact I don’t think I’ve ever been more confident about a decision then I am in this one.” You continue, taking his hands in your own to kiss the bridge of scraped knuckles. “I am terrified.” 

Obi-Wan won’t tell you this, but he is too. 

  “Of what?” 

So how do we forget That love is on our side Oh, we never saw this coming

  “Losing you. It’s suffocating me.”

Obi-Wan tries not to stiffen behind you. It’s hard. He knows that fear - the one he constantly pushes to the back of his mind - because he’s always believed that the war would eventually take you from him. Your heart was always in the right place. With the children. 

The Jedi needs hearts like yours. 

He kisses your temple. “I love you.” Then slowly lowers the straps of your sheer nightgown down your shoulders to kiss your shoulder. “I love you.” He turns your head, kisses your cheek. “Maker.. do I love you.” 

Your fingers card through his beard. His eyes never leave your own as you trace the outlines of his features and pause on the bandage that adorns his temple. 

  “Please, Obi-Wan.” You beg. “I need-” 

He’s barely a breath away. Skin on skin and scorching as his fingers dance along the inside of your parted thighs, you cradle his face in your hands and pray to whatever gods are listening for just tonight. 

  “What do you need, darling?” He breathes against your mouth. 

  “Sleep. To sleep without waking, without screaming because I’m just too late to save you. Help me sleep.” 

Obi-Wan nods. You nestle yourself against his torso and rest your head against his shoulder. “Rest, my love. I’ll keep your nightmares away.” 

Can we go back before the morning took you 

And everything we knew was gone 

So sing to me 

Till I fall asleep 

Instead of falling asleep to the lull of his heartbeat, you’re instead listening to the gentle rumble of his voice in the silence. 

  “Mmm.. Obi-” 

Like the way you did when you were still mine And tell me that it's not over yet

  “Yeah.”  

You smile up at him even though your eyes are shut. “I love you.. brave man.” And then you’re dead to the world. Passed out in the arms of the man you love, who loves you just as ardently, who takes one look at the coming dawn and smiles. 

He doesn’t stop singing until your breathing evens out. 

We were never good at saying goodbyes

Can’t you see what’s right in front of your eyes 

That night was the first night you’d slept without waking in weeks. Obi-Wan kept your nightmares at bay - warded away the darkness lingering in the corners of your mind - and when you woke almost fourteen hours later smiling, he wondered if you were finally at peace. 

You were. 

[greekgrad12]

It Takes Two: percabeth!au

Mattie Jackson and Hayley Chase meet at the start of summer and discover that they are each other's identical clone. With a little more investigating, the two girls discover that they are, in fact, twins. Things only get crazier when they find out that their adoptive parents were once in love. Now, they have to work together to reunite Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase before Mattie’s dad ends up dating the new camp counselor and Hayley’s mom gets married to a kid hating, gold digger.

And what better way to do that than to switch places?

or

i rewatched It Takes Two and decided to make it percabeth :)

read on ao3 

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

Percy Jackson had just finished packing his last duffel bag when he heard a very familiar voice yelling outside his apartment window. A voice that belonged to someone who was supposed to be in the next room over packing her own bags. A frustrated sigh left his lips as he opened the bedroom window looking down towards the street. Just as he suspected, a crowd of children were scattered on the road, some taking up the spaces around the chalk-drawn diamond, others sitting on the sidelines. And right there on the makeshift home plate stood none other than...

"Matilda Sally Jackson!" Percy yelled down from the fourth floor to his daughter, "If I were to walk into your room right now, would your suitcases be packed?"

The ten-year-old girl turned and gave her dad an exasperated look, "Ah come on, dad! Ten bucks say you only just got done!"

"Thankfully, I'm not raising you to be like me," He teased, leaning on the windowsill. He was very much aware of the red tint on his daughter's olive cheeks, even from the distance between the two, "I'm hopefully raising you to be better. Now come finish packing, we're leaving in two hours!"

Percy and his daughter had a great relationship, unlike Percy and his bio-dad or first stepfather. Yeah, he didn't have the best luck in the fatherhood department, but that was why he wanted to do better for his daughter. And he was. Percy spent every day trying to be a good dad to Mattie. He taught her his mother's famous cookie recipe, braided her hair every morning before school, and attended every single swim match she had. Granted he was also the coach, but still.

Mattie didn't have a mom. Well, not one that she remembered anyway. Percy and his ex-wife, Lydia, were on thin ice for a long time. One of their main arguments being, Percy wanted kids, she didn't. Percy knew from a young age that he wanted a family, so there was no use trying to argue that. Somewhere along the way, they had reached an agreement and Mattie was on the way. Halfway through the whole process, Lydia changed her mind. This lead to the fifth argument of the month and to their inevitable divorce.

This also lead to the decision that would change the rest of Percy's life. Would he still adopt baby Mattie?

Yep, adopt. Lydia didn't want to go through the whole pregnancy ordeal and Percy was more than happy to adopt. He knew what it was like to grow up in a tough home and if he could prevent that from happening to another kid, he wouldn't hesitate. Mattie’s birth mother was a 19-year-old girl who was apparently going through a hard time. Truthfully, Percy didn’t know much about her, but it wasn’t due to a lack of effort. When bio-mom picked Percy and Lydia to be the parents of her unborn child, she was in the final stages of her pregnancy and she didn’t want to meet them. The only thing Percy heard about her was that she moved out west somewhere only a week after Mattie was born.

As a social worker employed at Goode Middle School, Percy had the advantage of being college friends with many of the adoption agents. This helped speed up the adoption process tremendously. At first, he saw that as a blessing, but after the divorce, it seemed that Percy was under even more pressure to make his decision.

It took some long talks with his mom to convince Percy that he could still do this; be a single dad. But it was his little sister, Estelle, who convinced him he would be great at it. After all, he had partially helped raise her and she turned out okay. She ate all of their mom's blue cookies, but she was okay. Plus, his family would be right by his side. So, Percy went along with the adoption. He hasn't regretted it once.

Yes, Mattie was adopted, but two you could never really tell. Mattie was daddy's little girl from the very beginning. From their beach days together to their daddy-daughter dates to get cheeseburgers at the local diner, the two were inseparable. By some twist of fate, the baby girl had even grown up to have a shade of green eyes like her dad's.

And that wasn't where the similarities stopped. Mattie was a rambunctious and sarcastic kid. There are times when Percy isn't sure what to expect from her, but more often than not, Mattie was the most helpful and patient kid a single dad could ask for. Still, as easygoing as she could be, Percy knew how proud his daughter was. After being embarrassed in front of her friends, Mattie Jackson had something to prove.

"Just let me hit this ball downtown! Grand slam, home run, guaranteed," Mattie was a lot like her father, but she had ambition. She was a tough girl. A smart girl. She reminded Percy of-

"Okay, fine," He started, "but if it's anything less, you're making me a mug at camp."

The girl shuddered at the idea of having to participate in her least favorite camp activity but nodded nonetheless. She stepped back up to the plate. Mattie was athletic. She hopped around from sport to sport, mainly just for the experience, but there was nothing she loved more than swimming. Her father's love for the water was one of the many things the girl had picked up from him.

But right now, Mattie's focus wasn't on the water. Percy watched as she scrunched her nose up, waiting for the pitch. The boy at the pitchers' mound, one of Mattie's friends, Cody, was taking his sweet time with the ball. Right when it looked like he was about to throw the pitch, he instead turned to his team and signaled for them to back up.

Percy couldn't help the smirk that formed on his lips. He wanted a World's Best Dad mug, but at that moment, he wanted his daughter to show those kids who's boss more.

The ball was pitched and the next thing Percy knew, he was hearing the sweet sound of a crack made from the balls' contact with the bat. He cheered as his daughter took first, and again when she rounded the corner for second. The ball had landed somewhere far down the street and the rest of Mattie's team were assuring her it was safe. She made it to third and right when Percy was sure he wouldn't be getting his mug, a car pulled up and parked right over home plate.

Mattie slowed down and stopped right in front of the old car. A confused look was shared between the other kids, but she knew exactly who the vehicle belonged to. And while she was happy to see it, Mattie was pissed that she couldn't reach home from under the car.

"Mattie, your dad called me half an hour ago telling me that you two were just now starting to pack. What are you doing out here?"

Before the girl could answer, Cody's voice rang out at her side.

"Loosing," The boy mocked as he tagged the girl out with the ball.

Mattie turned towards him and glared, "There is no way this counts!"

***

"I want my mug to be blue," Percy teased his daughter as she walked back into their apartment, "with World's Best Dad written in big letters."

"You and I both know that you don't need a mug to know you're the best dad. Plus, I suck at clay molding," The girl complained, "Not to mention that it's the most boring activity at camp."

Her father smirked, "Well you should have thought of that before you agreed to the bet."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Mattie grumbled, "Can I just pay Rachel to do it for me?"

"No," He laughed, "and don't even try to go behind my back and do it anyway, because I will find out.”

"Okay, you two, settle down," Sally Jackson-Blofis' laughter rang out in the small apartment. As much as Mattie was a daddy's girl, Percy was a bigger mama's boy, "I came by to see you before you leave and drop off some cookies for the trip."

Mattie's eyes couldn't have bulged out of their sockets more when her grandmother pulled out the plastic tub of blue cookies. Just as she went to grab the box, it was pulled out of reach by her father, "Oh, no you don't."

"Oh, come on, dad!" Giving the best puppy dog look she could muster, Mattie looked up at Percy, "Just one?"

Percy had to look at his mother for support. There was little that his daughter couldn't get away with when that look was thrown his way, "Nope. Not until you're done packing."

"Seriously?" His daughter whined, "Wasn't calling me Matilda in front of all my friend's punishment enough?"

"You know, I was this close to naming you Janet," He mocked, holding his pointer finger and thumb so close they were barely touching.

Mattie's big eyes narrowed into a glare as she stuck her tongue out at her father, "Fine, but don't be surprised if your mug doesn't have a handle."

"I think you're just doing that to make the sculpting easier for you."

A small grin appeared on her face and she shrugged, "Maybe."

Percy rolled his eyes at the girl and chuckled as she walked back to her room. He turned back to his mom and saw her wearing the same endearing look she always has when she watches the interactions between her son and granddaughter.

"You've definitely raised a little you," Sally laughed.

"Well, in that case," Percy grinned and opened the Tupperware container holding the cookies, "I'm sorry for hogging the shower as a kid."

Sally took the container out of his hands before he got the chance to pick out a cookie, "And I'm sorry for not allowing you to be a hypocrite."

"What? I'm done with my packing!" Percy promised as he reached for the container.

"Even the extra blankets? You know how cold the bunks can get at night."

Percy was quiet for a moment before letting out a defeated groan, "You know, I was really proud of myself for a moment there."

"You should still be proud of yourself, honey," Sally grinned, "You're a great dad, and you and Mattie are going to have a great time at camp this year, just like you always do."

Camp Half-Blood was a summer camp that Percy had been attending since he was nine years old. His bio dad had attended the camp in his youth and it was one of the few things that Percy had left of the man after he died. When his mother remarried, it was a safe place away from his first stepfather, Smelly Gabe, a man that Sally Jackson only married because, at the time, she didn't have the funds to properly provide for her son. The camp had a big influence on the man Percy became. The experiences he had, the friends he made, the place where he felt closest to his father.

The girl he fell in love with.

Even years after he grew too old to be a camper, Percy found himself volunteering every summer as a camp counselor. A few years later, he was offered a paid position as an official counselor and the camp social worker. Chiron, the camp activities director, was more than happy to have him back. Especially, when he started bringing his daughter with him.

He couldn't help but smile at that, "Thanks, mom. I'm really excited about this year. You know, Camp Half-Blood was remodeled this past fall. Everything has been upgraded, I can't wait to see it."

"I'm sure it will look great. You've been complaining about the faulty flooring in the pavilion for years."

"There's been a giant crack going down the center of that thing ever since the earthquake back when I was still a camper. That's completely dangerous!"

His mother laughed and raised her arms in defeat, "Trust me, I agree. Still, with all the changes, I'm surprised that the camp could afford all the modifications."

"Yeah, I think the head of the architect company in charge is an old friend of Chiron's. Apparently, they will be coming down and checking out the camp, you know, to see how their work panned out, I guess."

"Well, you'll have to thank whoever they are for fixing your pavilion," Sally teased him as she grabbed a cookie out of the container and took a bite. Percy's mouth fell open as he stared at his mother with a look of betrayal, "What? I don't have to pack anything. Plus, a made them, I don't need justification."

"You are a cruel woman."

***

An hour and a half later, Percy and his daughter were packing their bags -and the extra blankets- into the car and heading towards Long Island Sound. With barely thirty minutes into the trip, half of Sally's cookies had been devoured and they had played a very enthusiastic game of Eye Spy.

"So," Mattie started as she reached for her fourth cookie, "is this the year you finally tell me who A.C. is?”

When Mattie was seven, during her first year at camp, Percy was adamant about showing her everything from his time at camp. Including all his favorite spots and activities from his time there. They visited the horse stables, where Percy told his daughter stories about his favorite horses and how he was one of the best riders. He took her to the strawberry field where they picked strawberries with her uncle Grover, just like the two had done when they were boys. But he was most excited about taking her to the dock and swimming in the water. Some of his most precious memories were made at that beach, on the dock. It was a special place for him. A place where he used to sit with her and escape from the world. A place where a first kiss was perfect under the Fourth of July fireworks. A place where carved initials still stood to this day.

When Mattie first found the letters carved at the end of the dock, she knew immediately that they weren't new. The marks had faded with time. When she realized that the first set of letters in P.J. + A.C. looked familiar, she decided to ask her father, Percy Jackson, if he knew who made the marks. Percy had never been a good liar. That was the day Mattie found out everything about her father's days at Camp Half-Blood. Everything, except who A.C. was.

"Mattie," Percy sighed, eyes staying on the road, "I've told you a thousand times, she's just an old friend. I haven't spoken to her in years, since before you were even born. I don't understand why you're so interested in this."

"Because friends don't carve their initials together on a dock for the world to see," The young girl persisted, blue crumbs falling from the side of her mouth, "That's what couples do in movies and stuff."

"Well, that explains it then. This isn't a movie, T," Truthfully, Percy wasn't sure if he was trying to convince her or himself more, "Besides, the camp went under construction this year, I'm sure the old dock was torn down and rebuilt. It was old."

Although, he would never admit this to his daughter, Percy was hoping, and wishing, and praying to anyone who would listen that the dock stayed the same. Percy would be lying if he said that he wasn't anxious about seeing it again. The thing was old, and he knew that the safety of the campers outweighed the feeling he still got in his stomach when he saw their initials carved together.

Maybe he could have called Chiron. Asked him if the new camp architect would spare that last plank of wood at the very edge of the water. Asked if he could keep it. One last memory of the childhood love he would never admit to never getting over.

What a ridiculous idea, he thought. Still, he always got like this in the summer, especially at camp.

Despite the fact that he was avoiding eye contact and staring towards the road, Percy could feel Mattie's frustrated gaze staring him down, but he held his ground. He was never going to see her again. The last time he saw her gray eyes staring back at him was at eighteen years old, their last summer as campers. She lived in San Francisco, California and would be going to UC Berkeley in the fall. He wasn't surprised, she was a genius. But Percy? He would stay in Manhattan and go to college on a swimming scholarship. They would try and stay in touch like how they did growing up. Busy schedules and adulthood would cause them to fail. Percy would still think of her, but he'd still get married to another woman. Percy would try to make it work, but he would still find himself wishing Lydia were her, and hating himself for it. So he tried to stop, but he couldn't help wondering. Wondering what she was doing. Wondering what could have been. But they hadn't spoken in years.

There was no point in telling his daughter how wonderful she was, because he knew Mattie would fall in love with her, just as he did. And they would never meet.

So, no. Percy would not tell his daughter about the girl he spent every summer with. He would not tell her about the girl who made fun of him for drooling in his sleep. He would not tell her about the girl who would sit with him at the dock and draw building structures while they talked about nothing and everything all at once. He would not tell her about the girl who's comfort book was Matilda, and that she made him read it, and that him joking about how she probably had superpowers like the character, because she too was a genius, made her blush. Percy would not tell his daughter because it would hurt too much.

Percy would not tell his daughter about his first love, Annabeth Chase.

*********

part two :)