#it seems you had some trouble with the keypad

[glamrockstarmaverick]

HandUnit

[superscourge]

Resurrected AU Ch. 1: Alliance

(read on AO3 here!) Warnings (for the fic in general, not necessarily this chapter): Graphic depictions of violence, strong language, general mature themes Chapter Summary: Scourge breaks into one of Eggman's bases in search of a secret weapon to defeat Sonic with, but what he ends up finding is much stranger and much scarier than he was expecting. Though…he finds a way to get some use out of it. Notes: it really took me like a thousand years to get this started huh. lol. well i wanted to at least get the first chapter out before the sonic au collision event fully started, so im happy to present the first chapter of resurrected au's fic!! god i hope yall like it LOLLL, this au means a whole lot to me.. it's become my favorite baby i wont lie. i will also admit that im a Little nervous to finally start posting my actual writing for sonic stuff; i'm pretty self-conscious abt it actually lmao. but hopefully yall end up enjoying how i write these guys. please be niceys idk how long it'll take me to dish out the rest of the chapters, but hopefully i can find the time and energy to get them out steadily!! thanks in advance for reading and thank u so much for ur support and enthusiasm <3

--

It’s not every day that you get a juicy piece of info that could very well put the odds in your favor. That’s why Scourge was not gonna waste this opportunity.

He’d gotten word thanks to his incredible sleuthing skills [read: eavesdropping on strangers] that Eggman had a new base in the area and had apparently acquired a very powerful “secret weapon” of some sort. That was all he needed to know before deciding it was time to raid a base. After all, if he found that secret weapon? Sonic was toast.

It took a minute to actually find the damn place, but soon enough, Scourge was skidding to a stop at the treeline before what looked to be a large, dome-shaped structure with the patented Eggman symbol on it (or something that looked like it; Scourge figured it was close enough). He smirked, flipping his shades down over his eyes and speeding off towards the entrance.

As expected, badniks littered the area around the main entrance to the base. They looked a little funny, Scourge noted; they seemed a little more…high-tech than he was used to seeing. But, whatever–he figured it wouldn’t be an issue once they were busted to scraps.

… He did have a little trouble with these bots. Just a little. But it was no biggie, since he ended up finding a way inside before he could be overwhelmed. All’s well that ends well, he supposed.

The inside of this place was…confusing. So many twists and turns, rooms that led into other rooms, platforms that moved in weird directions…

“Doesn’t this place have a map?” Scourge grumbled to himself as he ran through the absolute maze of hallways.

After what seemed like forever, he finally came to what was clearly the main, central chamber of the base. There was a very complicated-looking keypad attached to it. Luckily, Scourge was very good at lockpicking.

Stepping back a bit, he hopped up and curled into a spindash before launching himself at the keypad. It took a bit of work, but before long, the whole thing was smashed to bits with sparks flying everywhere. Just as he’d hoped, the door opened once the keypad was destroyed. With a triumphant snicker, he unfurled and landed back on the floor before confidently waltzing into the chamber.

Inside looked pretty much as he expected it to–tubes and gadgets everywhere, lots of high-tech machinery that did Gaia-knows-what, lots of papers littered about several desks that clearly showed the work of an evil mastermind…

Yeah. Deffo an Egg-base.

“Now, where’s that weapon…” Scourge questioned aloud as he strolled through the room. He pulled out some drawers and rummaged around here and there, but he didn’t really find anything interesting so far. Surely this thing wasn’t hidden that well, right?

Just as he was starting to get frustrated, he came across a huge capsule of some kind right in the middle of the room. Pretty obvious, actually. He wasn’t that observant, but whatever. He raised his shades to where they were resting back in their place on his head before he rubbed his hands together with a huge, toothy grin. “That looks promising.”

Making his way to the door of the capsule, he tried to peek inside through the little window on the front of it. He couldn’t make anything out… He decided to just open it to get a look at what was inside, so he searched around for a switch of some kind that would do that for him. It didn’t take long, thankfully, and he quickly pressed the button down that would activate the door.

Smoke spewed out from the door as it opened, making Scourge cough a bit. He waved his hand to clear some of it out of his way as he impatiently waited for it to dissipate enough for him to see what he was in for.

This had to be some sort of cool gun. He knew it was. Some kinda laser shooter or something. Or maybe a bazooka. Oh–a cannon, even! He dearly hoped it was a cannon, actually. The smoke was almost fully cleared, so he leaned in excitedly to see what was inside…!

… It was…a guy. There was a guy in there.

“What the–?” Scourge furrowed his brow once he got a good look at the contents of the capsule. It was obviously a person–a jackal, it looked like? Definitely not a cannon. Who the hell was this? He looked rough, like he’d really been put through the wringer. His drip was cool, Scourge supposed, and the big, gnarly scar on the guy’s chest was pretty intimidating…

Mine’s still cooler, he thought to himself.

Suddenly, alarms sounded throughout the base. Scourge cursed under his breath as he looked over his shoulder. He turned back to the man in the capsule, making a quick decision–he’d snag him and take him with him. He probably had some idea of where the weapon was, so once he woke up, he’d just beat the information out of him if he wouldn’t give it up willingly.

Grabbing the jackal out of the capsule and slinging him over his shoulder, Scourge finally sped out back through the way he came. He was able to dodge any bots that tried to come after him thanks to his speed, and soon enough, he was outside and running through the trees of Mobius once again.

He ran until forest turned to jungle, and before long he was slowing to a stop once again in a small clearing where bits of light showed through the canopy up above. He rested the other man’s body down on a bed of moss near a small pond, figuring that’d be…somewhat comfortable, and he then took a seat on a fallen tree a few feet away.

It was only a matter of seconds before he began to tap his foot. What was he supposed to do now? Just sit there waiting for this guy to wake up? That could take hours… He didn’t have that kind of patience.

Deciding to take the initiative, Scourge stood and started walking over to the jackal, intending to just…lightly kick him until he woke up, or something. However, he didn’t get the chance.

A low, threatening growl could be heard rumbling from the stranger’s throat. Scourge stopped in his tracks once he heard it, then took a few paces back. How long had he been–?

One yellow eye opened to a squint, scanning the area before landing on Scourge. For some reason, the look the man was giving him made his skin crawl… Not that he was going to let him know that, though.

Instead, Scourge popped the collar of his jacket to regain his composure and puffed out his chest. “Took ya long enough,�� he teased right off the bat. “I was startin’ to think you were dead.”

The jackal’s gaze lingered on him coldly for a few moments. However, he looked elsewhere when he began to speak. “... I should have been.”

That…wasn’t the response Scourge was expecting. The way he sank a bit betrayed his confusion. “... Wait, what?”

The man sat up, sort of startling Scourge into taking another step back. As he did so, he fully opened both of his eyes so that he could properly take in his surroundings. He was clearly ignoring the hedgehog beside him as he turned his head away, which didn’t really sit right with Scourge.

“Hey!” he barked. “I’m talkin’ to you!”

Giving no indication that he was listening, the man proceeded to rise to his feet, standing at his full height. Scourge sort of…shrank a little once he saw how actually tall this guy was. He knew jackals were generally bigger than hedgehogs, but this guy…

No, no, it was fine. No need to be afraid. He was still in charge here–this guy just didn’t know it!

With an annoyed sneer, Scourge dared to stomp a little closer. “Listen here, pal. If it weren’t for me, you woulda still been stuck in that base. I went outta my way to rescue you, got it? That means you owe me one. So, I’m gonna tell you how this is gonna go down, and you’re gonna–hrk!”

A clawed hand suddenly gripping his neck caused Scourge’s words to get caught in his throat… At least, that was part of it.

The jackal had snapped his head around to glare murderously at him as he grabbed him, which gave Scourge a very clear view of his face. He could see his one piercing yellow eye staring back at him…and he quickly noticed that the other eye had some kind of rock lodged into its socket. It was an eerie sight, and it definitely sent an intense chill up Scourge’s spine.

“You,” spat the jackal, voice deep and commanding, “do not control me.”

Unable to respond, Scourge just kind of…dangled there, hands gripping the other’s wrist as he kicked his legs a little. The expression he wore was enough of a response, though, so he was released after a moment of struggle. Once he was able to breathe and stand on his own again, he gasped for air and rubbed at his throat with an indignant look.

“What the hell?” he managed to say between coughs. “Who do you think you are, grabbin’ me like that?”

Turning away, the taller man didn’t bother to look at him as he replied. “I am Infinite,” he answered simply.

There was a pause as Scourge seemed to wait for him to say something else. When he didn’t, he furrowed his brow a little. “... Like, that’s your name, or…?”

The man–Infinite, apparently–seemed to hesitate, as if he was surprised that Scourge didn’t recognize him. One of his ears flicked.

“... I suppose enough time has passed that my name is no longer common knowledge,” he mused, half to himself. “Pity. I would have liked to think I made a bigger impact than that.”

Scourge watched as Infinite turned to fully face him again, making him subconsciously take a couple steps back. Man, this guy was kinda scary… Not that he couldn’t take him! He was just giving him the creeps, was all… Cyan eyes flicked to Infinite’s hands as he flexed his fingers.

“I will simply have to remind the world what true fear feels like,” he growled lowly, “and I suppose that starts with you.”

The rock embedded in Infinite’s eye began to glow as he summoned its power, and, to Scourge’s bewilderment, he began to lift off the ground and hover there. It was kind of scary, actually. The guy was floating. What the hell?

Then it hit him. The weapon Eggman had been hoarding wasn’t a gun or a cannon or anything like that. It was Infinite. He obviously held some sort of power that Eggman wanted to weaponize, and that must have been why he’d been locked up in that base… Things started clicking.

Despite Scourge expecting him to do… anything, really…Infinite proceeded to seize up in pain and let out an agonized yell. He suddenly collapsed to the ground, falling to his knees as he held himself up with one hand and gripped his head with the other. “W… What…?!” 

Infinite’s hand moved from his head to his chest where the large scar marked him. When he felt nothing but the scar, he had a look of both anger and confusion on his face, which told Scourge that what just happened clearly wasn’t the plan.

… Interesting.

Scourge stood a little straighter once he was confident that this guy wasn’t about to explode or something, sticking his thumbs into his jacket pockets. “Aaaalright, Criss Angel. If you’re done with all that , I think it’s time we get down to business.”

While Infinite knelt there still trying to figure out what was going on, Scourge began to pace around him in a circle, smirking as he did so. “Look. Like I said before, I rescued you from that base, so you kinda owe me one. But–and hear me out on this one–I’m willin’ to come to a compromise.”

Infinite snapped out of his pained daze long enough to shoot another glare at Scourge as he came around to his front again. “Compromise?” he hissed.

Scourge nodded. “Yeah. So, listen–I didn’t get to introduce myself earlier.” He held up a thumb and pointed it at his own chest, teeth bared in some kind of nasty grin. “Name’s Scourge. If ya haven’t hearda me by now, then you’ve been livin’ under a rock.”

Infinite somehow doubted that this brat had left enough of a mark on the world that anybody off the street would know his name. Still, he let him continue.

“I wanna take out Sonic. I assume you know him, right? Well, I think you’re just the guy who can help me out with that. He’s gotten lucky so far, but I think with you backin’ me up, I’ll be able to finally give ‘em his just desserts.”

The name Sonic caused a spark of recognition to flash over Infinite’s good eye. His breathing began to steady. “... Sonic,” he repeated. “Yes, I am familiar with Sonic .”

The way Infinite said his name let Scourge know that there was some beef there, at least. This worked in his favor. “Good,” he said with a nod. “So we’re on the same page, then.”

He turned on his heel before stopping his walk, facing Infinite to speak to him directly. “Like I said, I want you to help me take him down. Easy, right? In exchange, though… I’ll help you out with whatever you want, too. I dunno if you knew this, but I’m basically just as strong and just as fast as that blue bastard. I could give anybody a run for their money if I felt like it.”

Narrowing his eye skeptically, Infinite mulled this over. He seemed to be recovering from the shock from before, and he stood back up onto his feet. It was evident from how long he took to respond that his mind was…elsewhere.

“... I see.” His tail swished behind him as he thought about his next words. “You are offering to aid me in whatever task I ask of you?”

“Cross my heart.”

Infinite gave a huff before crossing his arms. “... Fine. If you intend to uphold your end of this bargain, then I will do the same.”

Scourge smiled widely, his sharklike teeth almost glistening in what little sunlight was managing to poke through the canopy above them. This idiot. He had no idea that he had every intention of double-crossing him the first chance he got.

He held out his hand for a shake to seal the deal. “Glad to have ya aboard, Infinite.”

Infinite glanced down at the other’s hand before reaching forward and taking it, giving it a single shake. His grip was tight. “Let us make the most out of this partnership, shall we?”

… Infinite was not stupid. He instantly knew that Scourge was going to betray him. That overconfident fool was so transparent it almost made him sick.

But…he could also tell that he had some bite to his bark, even if it was just a little. He was seasoned enough as a soldier that he could see that. That meant he could get some use out of him before he pulled his own betrayal.

He no longer had the Phantom Ruby in his chest, and he was alive, and he had no idea why. If this green idiot could help him figure that out…then he’d play along for as long as he had to.

Either way, he was going to get answers. And once that was done? He was going to rip out Sonic’s miserable little throat.

☆

[yuesya]

“A shipment to Arkos, you said?”

“Yup! Logistics wants this delivered before the end of the week.” The young lady types rapidly into the keypad fixed to the wall, and the doors slide open –revealing the warehouse to be stacked high with giant boxes of various medical supplies. Bagpipe cranes her head back, surveying the contents of the storage room. 

“… All of these?” 

“Mhm. It would’ve been included as part of the regular shipment last month, but the guys over in the Medical Department changed something about the new formula that they’re developing, so these got delayed,” the girl explains. “Sorry for the trouble, Ms. Bagpipe.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Arkos… it’s a familiar name, although Bagpipe has yet to go and pay a visit there in person. It seems that she’ll finally be getting the opportunity now.

Arkos is not quite a city, exactly. It’s more of a collective –a gathering of various disparate individuals; a hub of mercenaries and traders alike, in addition to a small regular population that calls Arkos home. The small settlement is located in one of the more treacherous parts of the rugged terrain between Leithanien and Ursus, making it an excellent resting stop for any travelers.

But on the flipside: Arkos is located on dangerous terrain, and one must wonder how anyone had even thought to establish a settlement there in the first place. In a way, it’s genius, but it’s also insanity. Because Arkos is not a mobile city; if a Catastrophe ever came their way, then…

Well. Bagpipe assumes that there must be some manner of precautionary measures set in place. She’s never known Doctor Kal’tsit to invest in a sinking ship, after all, and the agreements signed between Rhodes Island and Arkos would not have been possible in the first place if the Director had not truly seen something in it.

According to the rumors, the first homes in Arkos had been built by their elusive founder and leader herself. Weary travelers had been allowed a place to rest, and none were turned away on basis of race or occupation, gradually leading to a motley collection of individuals who gathered together in the area as time passed.

… And at the same time, there were also rumors that those who dared to cause trouble in Arkos with any ill intentions were all met with violent, bloody ends, without exception. Also courtesy of their great and powerful leader.

Bagpipe is curious as to what the leader of Arkos is really like. Kal’tsit is the only one in Rhodes Island who’s ever met them in person before, and she’s very tight-lipped on the subject, which only adds to the mystery of it all.

[coupsie-daisies]

Kinktober '24: Pet Play | Joshua Hong

Pairing: Joshua Hong x GN!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Implied Smut (minors DO NOT interact)

Summary: Joshua loves taking care of his kitty, and you just love his attention

WC: 768

Warnings: pet play, Dom/sub dynamics, food and eating, reader eats from a bowl on the floor, reader is wearing a tail, ears, and collar, finger sucking, praise, petnames, use of 'master'

A/N: I know this is short, but I couldn't shake this scene and I thought you guys might like it. I may continue this at some point, but don't hold me to that

Tags: @dragonofthenorth0726 // @wooyussy // @burningupp-replies // @bunnypig18 // @decaffedthoughts // @brownieracha // @ferrethyun // @walkxthexmoon // @aesteraceae // @wonuqrtz // @mixling-blog // @wonwooz1-blog

Main Masterlist

Kinktober '23 Masterlist

Kinktober '24 Masterlist

This fanfiction is property of @/coupsie-daisies, reposting on any other platform is prohibited

You could hear Joshua getting home, the sound of the keypad rousing you from the half-sleep you were in. You'd been waiting for him to come home for hours, or at least it felt like it. You'd never been particularly patient, but Joshua never minded that. You didn't move from your spot on the bed, just lazily looking towards the door until it swung open.

Joshua smiled at the sight before him, his sweet kitty curled up on the bed, half asleep. He stepped forward, dropping his bag at the end of the bed and leaned down to press a kiss to your head, right between the pretty white ears that you had on. You stretched leisurely, and he felt his heart skip a beat.

"Morning, kitten. Been good while I was gone?" He asked, stroking your head and smiling at the way you crawled halfway into his lap. You'd even put your tail on, he noted to himself, which meant you were pretty deep into your headspace. He frowned, poor thing had to wait all by themselves for him to come back from work.

You nodded, looking up at him. He leaned down, stroking your cheek before pressing a chaste kiss to your lips.

"Have you eaten yet?" He asked, looking at the time. You shook your head, making a tiny sound in your throat, something akin to a purr, and he melted.

"Alright, let's get you some food, okay?" He stood up, taking a moment to change into more comfortable clothes while you reacquainted yourself with being awake. Once you slid from the bed down to your hands and knees, he made his way towards the kitchen. You followed behind him slowly, the bell on your collar jingling sweetly with every step you crawled. The floor was cool under your palms, but it only eased you deeper into the fuzzy, comfortably warmth of your headspace.

Once in the kitchen, Joshua got to warming the soup left over from the night before, and you sat at his feet, nuzzling at his thigh. You knew better than to wind along his feet when he moved, but the urge to be close to him was too strong to resist, so you followed him as he turned to return to the microwave. He stumbled a little, turning to fix you with a stern gaze.

"Ah," He chastised, and you shrunk away from the sound, a pout on your lips. You were a spoiled little thing, and Joshua knew that, but he really did try his best to keep you well trained like any pet should be, but it was so hard when you looked at him like this. "Don't get yourself into trouble. You know I don't like punishing my kitty."

You responded with a quiet "meow" that seemed to be more than enough for him, because he moved to the microwave while you sat pretty on your little eating mat next to his chair at the table. He shuffled around for a while before splitting the warm soup between your dish and his. Once he was finished, he put your bowl down in front of you and sat in his chair.

You waited patiently for your permission to eat, which came as soon as he was settled with his own meal. You nuzzled his leg lightly before dipping your head down to lap at your meal. Joshua watched you quietly, a content smile on his lips while he ate his own dinner. There was always something about this that made him feel warm and satisfied, knowing that you felt safe enough with him to let go.

You looked up at him once you'd eaten as much as you wanted, eyes wide and almost empty, your mind melting into being nothing but his good little pet. He stroked your hair, then tipped your chin up to dab at your face with a napkin.

"Messy kitty," He hummed sweetly. "Good job eating, you're so well behaved for your master, aren't you?"

You nodded quickly, and he reached up to adjust the ears that had been jostled in the process.

"I know, thank you, pretty. And good kitties deserve treats. Is that what you want?" He asked, still cradling your chin, keeping you grounded in the moment and looking at him. You nodded again, a barely there 'mew' slipping out. He stroked your cheek.

"Words, kitten."

"Yes, master. Please wan' a treat." You mumbled. He smiled proudly, thumb brushing your bottom lip before pressing into your mouth for you to suck.

"My good pet. I think you've definitely earned your treat."

copyright 2024 coupsie-daisies, all rights reserved

[duckiiieluv]

Hotel Nights & Elevator Rides ★ oneshot

javier escuella (rdr2)

modern!au

summary — Javier Escuella has been your long-term bodyguard while you travel on a fashion campaign. You’re coming back to your hotel room in New York City from a photoshoot after a rough day. He catches you crying.

warnings — angst, substances, weight mentioned, implied fighting, swearing (let me know if i missed any!)

You’ve had an incredibly terrible day. Nothing seems to be going right. You and your boyfriend have been arguing constantly. The pictures from your modeling shoot earlier in the day corrupted as soon as they were put on a hard drive. Oh, and not to mention, Javier has been up your ass about staying safe in the city all day. It’s not like you haven’t been here before. Sure, the streets of New York City can seem overwhelming to anybody who doesn’t know what they’re doing, but this is basically a second home to you.

Slamming through the hotel doors and tears streaming down your face, there’s nothing that sounds better than collapsing into bed and crying all your feelings out. You rush towards the elevator doors, making weak attempts to brush the tears out of your eyes. Your fingers jam into the down arrow on the elevator keypad. As the doors open, you rush inside, not caring about your surroundings.

“Woah, there.” A familiar voice reaches your ears, and as you look up your met with the sight of your bodyguard. Javier. He wears a bemused expression, his lips curled into a smirk. As he takes a moment to really look at you, this expression falls into one of concern. Immediately noticing your state, he reaches out and steadies you with a firm hand on your shoulder.

“Javier,” you whisper. “You really caught me at a bad time,” you offer a half smile while attempting to wipe the tears away from your face. Javier’s face contorts with worry as you brush right by him and into the elevator.

“You don’t say,” he chuckles softly, recognizing the signs of an emotional moment. Javier follows you into the elevator, his expression switching from joking back to concern. He is hot on your heels, stepping right beside you. The only reason he wasn’t by your side when you first entered the hotel is because he was promised that another protection detail would walk you back. “You all right?” he asks, studying your tear-streaked face.

Internally, you groan. You would rather talk about literally anything else than your feelings, but you know that if Javier is ignored, he will press the matter until he gets an answer. “I’m fine,” you reply curtly as you press the floor number ‘17.’ Javier is the only one in here with you and this elevator is excruciatingly slow. You can feel his eyes bore into you, studying and assessing.

“Sure seems like it,” Javier retorts in a dry, sarcastic manner, clearly not buying your response. He leans against the metal rail running the length of the elevator, crossing his arms. His hand tattoos and partially done sleeve are exposed as his sleeves roll up. A moment of silence passes as the elevator moves up slowly before he decides to speak up, his voice a bit softer this time. “What happened? Trouble with Keller?”

Noah Keller is your boyfriend. He runs with some bad people—people that Javier knows and has dealt with before. You can tell he’s just trying to get on your nerves, but you can’t help but notice a little anger and concern seeping through his voice. You roll your eyes, not wanting to talk about it. “When is it not?” you reply as you look down and begin to fumble through your purse. Your hands search pockets and run along the fabric as you finally find it. Your vape. You take a nice, long drag.

He watches as you fumble through your purse before taking out your vape. Javier lets out a small sigh, taking your response as a silent confirmation that you and Keller had indeed had yet another fight. These fights were no secret to him; he had witnessed plenty of them before. He can’t help but raise an eyebrow as you stare blankly at the wall and blow out a puff of smoke. “You know, vaping’s not going to solve anything,” he reminds, still leaning against the wall.

You shoot him a look out of the corner of your eyes as the smoke escapes your lips. “Yeah, but a weed pen might,” you quip. This sudden sharpness comes across as mean, but at the moment, you don’t care much for being nice. You take another drag, trying to use nicotine to escape this situation.

Javier lets out a weary chuckle in response to your sharpness. He can tell that your mood isn’t exactly pleasant, and he’s not surprised. But, hearing you mention a weed pen sets off alarm bells in his head. He was hired to keep you safe, not to let you run off the rails. Of course, he’s heard the rumors and seen the occasional tabloid headline, but he’s never witnessed you actually use one. “Weed now, is it?” he remarks, his tone a mix of surprise and gentle teasing.

“Or cocaine,” you joke. You look towards Javier to see he’s stood up straight now. His expression changes from surprise to downright disapproval. You clearly touched a nerve as Javier takes a step closer to you and snatches your vape from your hands.

“Cocaine?” he exclaims, his eyes widening. “Jesus, you can’t be serious right now. You’re not being serious right now.” He watches you closer, trying to gauge if this is some sort of emotional outburst or if you’re actually thinking of resorting to hard drugs. “Ay dios mío,” he mutters under his breath.

— let me know if you want any headshots with other characters or just some headcanons!! thank u for reading xx ★

[x-neurodivergent-reader]

Adoration Equation (Loki x Autistic!Reader w/ Dyscalculia)

Anon’s request: “Could you possibly do 'Loki with a S/O who has dyscalculia?' (And also autism, if you're comfortable with including more than one?) Perhaps they're on a mission and split up from the others, only for the reader to find themselves in a situation where math is involved (Idk, maybe a keypad equation to open something?), and Loki had no idea about their dyscalculia until right then?”

Summary: You and Loki started dating recently, but as seeing you struggle with a seemingly simple part of a mission will show him, there are still some things about you that he doesn’t know.

A/N: I don't have dyscalculia myself (I did research it, but that's not the same as experiencing it), so please let me know if any of my descriptions of it aren’t accurate, so I can revise them. Apart from that, enjoy!

The reader here is gender-neutral.

Content warnings: Slight insecurity from the reader.

The hallways of the facility you were infiltrating were silent, save for the distant sounds of gunfire and crashing as your teammates fought through anyone who attacked them, to allow you and Loki the chance to get to the main office. The USB stick that would be used to hack into one of the computers and download classified information about the organisation’s plans, along with the ID card you swiped from a higher-up earlier, felt heavy in your pocket, as you stayed alert to avoid anything that could compromise your mission.

You and Loki found that you worked together quite well in the field. Your respective skills matched up nicely, he made sure to communicate clearly with you, and you were often on the same wavelength. It was no wonder that the two of you would be grouped together for this mission – nor, perhaps, that you had become a couple about a month previously.

Just as you were about to turn down the next corridor, Loki stopped you, gently guiding you behind him as he checked around the corner for any guards. His eyebrows creased after a moment, as he slowly walked further down the hall, tentatively giving you the gesture you had both agreed on to follow him.

Surprisingly, despite the door to your destination being in sight, there were no soldiers near it.

“The coast looks clear.” You murmured, just audible enough for your partner to hear you.

“But why…?” He inquired, seemingly listening out for anyone trying to sneak up on you both. “Why would they not guard somewhere so important?”

You looked around for any hidden cameras, and sure enough, you saw a few – one at each end of the hall, and another that seemed to be embedded in the office door. You lightly tapped Loki’s arm, and silently pointed them out to him.

“They might be planning an ambush.” You whispered.

Loki nodded in response, before summoning a small pellet of green magic, and throwing it at one of the cameras at the end of the hall. Before you could process it, he turned, shooting another at the camera in the door and, finally, at the side of the corridor you had arrived from.

A thick silence fell over you both, knowing that someone was bound to come for you now that the cameras had been destroyed. Sure enough, you both heard footsteps, soon followed by a small group of soldiers rounding the corner in front of you, weapons ready to attack.

Being the seasoned warrior he is, Loki immediately had a plan.

“I’ll take care of them,” he murmured to you, “you open the door.”

“Right.” You agreed, turning back to the direction you were heading in, while Loki dove into battle behind you.

Approaching the door, you took out the stolen card, and looked around for a machine on the wall with a slot to slide it through. Your eyes stopped when you saw what appeared to be exactly that, except it had something extra alongside the card slot.

It was a keypad. You hoped that, perhaps, there would be a code on the card that you could enter without too much trouble – but when you used the card as required, the screen on the device lit up with an equation, an extra security protocol that had to be solved to enter the room.

‘Shit…’ You thought, a sense of dread starting to rise within you, as your mind blocked out the sounds of the fight happening nearby. You realised that this was going to be much harder for you than you had expected, if not outright impossible.

Regardless, you read the calculation, hoping it would be simple enough that you could at least make an attempt at it, perhaps by counting on your fingers. You just hoped that you could get it done before Loki finished fighting…

"8 x 2 x 5 + 750 =”

…and, not knowing where to even start in comprehending this, your mind immediately drew a blank.

‘Shit!’ You thought again, your panic increasing with the knowledge that you were absolutely not going to be able to do this part of the mission.

You weren’t sure of what to do now, the pressure from not being able to act on the job making you feel on edge. Should you help Loki finish his fight? Would he be mad at you for not opening the door? Would he think less of you for not being able to? Why did nobody check to see that this was how it needed to be opened-?!

Your train of thought was interrupted when a hand reached in front of you, catching you off-guard and almost causing you to attack on instinct, until you realised that it was Loki, having already finished his fight. You chanced a brief glance at his face – he wasn’t looking at you, focused on reading the equation, but his brows were downturned, like he was either confused or annoyed by your lack of action. You deeply hoped it wasn’t the latter.

Loki entered the answer into the keypad almost immediately, and the door slid open, revealing the dimly-lit office. The one window in the back wall seemed to pour daylight over the desk with the computer you needed to use, immediately drawing your attention to it like a spotlight on a stage.

Your partner stepped aside, silently gesturing for you to enter the room first, so you could use the USB and finish the job. Avoiding his gaze, you practically speed walked into the room, still feeling self-conscious about what had just happened – you hoped the download wouldn’t take long enough for the subject to be brought up sooner, rather than later.

You pressed the button on the monitor that lit up the screen, and plugged the USB into the tower next to it, the device releasing a virus that automatically broke into the computer’s security details, and collected the necessary information for you.

“We’re in.” you told Loki, as he approached the desk. The adrenaline from the mission up to that point caught up to you, and you cautiously decided to slouch in the chair until the download was complete. “Tony said it should take about five minutes, if no one interrupts us.”

Loki nodded, giving a small hum of acknowledgement. You still didn’t have the courage to look at him yet, but were at least grateful that he wasn’t admonishing you. You were dealing with enough mixed feelings about the situation as is, particularly with regards to whether you should have told him about your dyscalculia before all of this. Especially since you were now in a relationship with him, you were starting to feel guilty about not bringing it up.

“Do you have trouble with maths, by any chance?” Loki’s voice broke through the silence. His tone of voice was neutral, giving little indication as to what he was feeling.

Your leg started to bounce as you stared at the screen, internally cursing the fact that this conversation was, indeed, happening already. You still couldn’t tell whether he was mad at you – you never were the best at telling how people were feeling, especially when they were this subtle – and that fact, combined with the previous issue with the keypad, made you start to feel slightly frustrated. You felt like you couldn’t figure anything out today.

“Yeah, I…” You spoke under your breath, leaning forward to further avoid Loki’s gaze. You rested your forearms on your legs, one of which still jiggled as a nervous stim. Given that there was no other explanation, and you could never successfully lie to your partner about this, you supposed you might as well tell the truth. “…my autism isn’t the only, uh… neurodivergence I have. I also have a learning disability called dyscalculia. It basically makes it a lot more difficult for me to understand maths and numbers than it would be for most people. It doesn't matter if it's equations, telling the time, reading maps... I’ve just never been able to really comprehend it.”

Loki stepped forward, and placed a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. His voice was quiet as he spoke. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

You knew that he most likely felt guilty for unknowingly making you do something you weren’t able to, but the gentle tone in his voice made your stomach churn. You couldn’t help worrying that he was looking down on you, whether he meant to or not.

“I didn’t want you to think less of me for it.” You admitted. “I mean, look at how quickly you solved that keypad. It barely took you any effort! You’re one of the smartest people I know, and…” You finally looked up at your partner, seeing how his face softened at the implication, and you moved your hand to cover his, giving the same reassurance he offered you. “…I don’t necessarily think that I’m stupid for it, but I’m not always sure that other people will feel the same, especially since I joined a team full of people who can do maths so easily. I didn’t want you to think that I’m stupid, just because my brain works like this.”

You glanced back at the computer screen, seeing that the USB was close to finishing its download. You sat up against the chair, and let Loki’s hand move to hold yours.

“Darling,” he squeezed your hand, grounding you, “your dyscalculia doesn’t change how I feel about you. It would be preposterous for anyone to judge your intelligence based on a learning disability – you don’t need to be able to do everything to be worthy of respect.”

Loki looked at the computer screen, and with his gaze away from you, you took a moment to watch the way the monitor’s light emphasised the blue in his eyes. You wondered if he ever noticed that when there was no risk of eye contact, you couldn’t help admiring them, no matter how briefly.

“I love every part of you,” he continued, and your breath caught in your chest at what was his first explicit confession of love towards you, “and this is no exception. I simply wish I had known not to put you in that situation before. I’m sorry for causing you stress by doing so.”

“It’s okay.” You grinned up at him, your body relaxing at the knowledge that there was nothing to worry about. “We’ll know to have me be the one to kick their asses next time.”

Loki chuckled under his breath, looking back at you with that sweet, lovestruck smile, reserved only for you.

In front of you, the download window on the computer screen disappeared, signifying that it was complete. You stood up from the desk chair, pushing it backwards on its wheels while you disconnected the USB and stuffed it back into your pocket, and zipped it to ensure it wouldn't get lost.

You then turned to Loki, and gave him a quick yet heartful kiss on the lips. When you pulled away, he gave you that cheeky smirk that you adored so much.

“I love you, too.” You confessed sincerely, before you both made your way to the office doors, ready to face any threats that may wait on the other side together. “Now let’s finish this.”

[songmingisthighs]

Genesis

introduction pt. i | pt. ii | pt. iii

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ch. lxxv - CUFFING

fashion mogul!mingi × reader

buy me coffee ?

!! A T T E N T I O N !!

things aren't always what it seems but when even the truth is left unheard, what can people do? one musn't lie but what if the lie is more accepted than the truth? the scariest thing in this world isn't monsters or demons. it's people with no agenda and time to waste.

"Daddy's home!"

The front door shut gently after the beeps of the electronic keypad went off. You peeked your head from the kitchen, furrowing your eyebrows slightly, "Mingi, where are you?" Mingi soon popped into the hallway with three shopping bags, surprising you. "Wow, guess who went on a shopping spree," you teased as you stepped out of the kitchen while wiping your hands on a rag.

With a wide grin, Mingi shook his head excitedly, "Oh these aren't for me, these are for you and bean!" He said before rushing to drop the shopping bags on the couch. Your eyes widened and you speed-walked to him, hitting him on his shoulder that unfortunately did nothing as Mingi began pulling the items out one by one. "Look, this is a onesie bean can wear from six month to two years," he said, showing how the fabric of the onesie stretched. Intrigued, you started peering over the items that Mingi brought home, "Or so it said. I've seen your baby pictures, Mingi, you were a long baby," you pointed out.

As soon as you mentioned baby, Mingi turned and dropped to his knees, looking up at you with hopeful eyes, "May I?" He asked with his hands on the hem of your shirt. Seeing him so excited to greet his baby, you maneuvered yourself to sit on the couch and pulling him between your legs before nodding, "Go for it." Immediately, Mingi lifted your shirt to the top of your bump and his soft lips made contact with your skin, right where bean's head was, "Hi baby, did you miss daddy?" His voice was so gentle and the soft caress he gave on the other side of your stomach only increased the amount of affection he was showcasing. "I think bean missed you because when Wooyoung was here earlier, bean didn't move much. But then, Wooyoung played a video of you cussing whilst gaming and bean started moving around," you told him. Mingi's eyes lit up and he started pressing more kisses to your tummy, "That's my baby! That's my bean!" He proudly said.

After spending a fair amount of time on your tummy (bean), Mingi rested his cheek on it and looked up at you, "And how's the baby mama doing today?" He smiled. You exhaled sharply and pursed your lips, "Well if you must know, I spent most of the day on my legs because I felt productive and energized and I even convinced Wooyoung that I could do all the heavy lifting while we were putting some of bean's things in my room and then right after Wooyoung left, all the pain shot through my my back and legs and I had to like rest for a solid hour before trying to start dinner."

The initial smile on Mingi's face turned into a pout at your admission of situation when he was not there. Hearing you having trouble when no one was around to help brought a sinking feeling to Mingi's stomach and he absolutely hated it. "Why didn't you tell me? I could've-" "Leave work to help me cut onions?" You chuckled after cutting him off, not even realizing that you patted his head like a kid, "I only needed a tiny bit of rest and after that, I was good enough to even clean the apartment and even organize the shoe rack." The glare Mingi gave was a clear indication that he was not happy with your activities and it dropped to your stomach, poking it gently continuously, "Bean, daddy needs your help reminding your mom that she needs to take it slow or else I'll make sure to cuff her hand with me," he chastised, shooting you a look as if threatening you in the guise of talking to his child.

Though you wanted to roll your eyes and tell Mingi to stop acting silly, but you felt bean moving inside of you at the sound of his voice and you'd like to imagine that bean was moving closer, seeking Mingi. "I think rather than remindinh me to take it slow, bean should remind you to take a break. You've been coming home a lot later and frankly, tonight is the earliest you've returned in a while," you pointed out but Mingi only shrugged, "You're doing the best at home so I want to do my best at work especially now that we're going to open at the Gallerio and release a new line, I want you and bean to be proud of me."

It wasn't until he said it that Mingi realized two things.

One, how cringey and childlike he sounded.

Two, how genuinely he wanted your approval. Bean was just there to be his muse but you? He wanted to be able to be worthy. Or even just worthy-adjacent.

"Mingi, I'm already proud of you no matter what you do and frankly I'm more worried about you not taking care of yourself because you think you have to prove something," you took his face in your hands and it was then that you realized how touchy you were being, touchier in a sense that it felt rather... Intimate in a sense. So you squeezed his cheeks and shook his head gently, "And frankly I don't want this to be a thing because it'll set a bad example to bean when they're born, like bean will need to achieve something to gain our affection or approval or something which is so stereotypically Asian, it actually borders on cliché," you joked, making Mingi chuckle and nod. "Promise me you won't kill yourself just to get my respect? Because you don't have to do that with me. I'm here for you because as we promised, we'll be completely honest with each other, right?"

Other than his mom, he had never hear a woman being so genuine with him. Mingi lacked a lot of experience in certain areas and he lacked awareness from time to time and he was usually just expected to do better on his own without much support. So he really took your sincereity to heart and he realized how much it meant for him to have a partner in crime. He couldn't even stop the grin that kept growing on his face. He probably looked stupid but he didn't care.

"If we're being honest, I think I need to tell you that I'm like two minutes away from chewing on my leg because I'm so hungry," Mingi sheepishly said, making you laugh as you push his head slightly out of disbelief. "You go take a quick shower and change while I heat up our food. I almost forgot about dinner because Wooyoung made me eat so much snacks today."

Mingi nodded and pushed himself up to his feet, "I'll be quick, okay?" And before he could stop himself, he leaned down and pecked you on the forehead before turning around to go to his room and take a shower. It was only when he saw his laundry that you had done on the basket by the bed that he realized what he had done. Eyes wide, jaw agape, Mingi crouched down in an area hidden from his opened door to silently scold himself for treating you as if you two were in a relationship. You both had yet to set boundaries as co-parents in terms of treating each other but he was sure kissing or pecking each other randomly was not part of it.

Meanwhile, you were still on the couch, dumbfounded and trying to process what happened. You were trying to figure out whether the forehead kiss really happened or not because so far you both had been touchy when you both needed to like for photos or when you helped each other. Heck, he even give you foot rubs from time to time because they tend to get tired from the extra weight. So your head was swimming with thoughts questioning what just happened.

But to be frank, your head was trying to focus more on figuring out why you liked it so much.

Weird.

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[interrogatormentors]

BOOK 2: EVENT 6: Prosecutor's Gambit

One step out of the shower and Sollux already thought of two hundred different reasons why he should turn back from his intended course. Even after the water had scalded the blood and viscera from his flesh, his skin still felt tacky. Only when Aradia grabbed his wrist in a firm hold did he realize he’d buried his claws into the bandages covering his bad arm, trying to dig through the gauze to the healing flesh below. He could still feel stomach acid biting at his skin after digging around for any souvenirs left behind. “...The Surgeons have replaced blood with corrosives before,” he said lamely, but uncurled his fingers all the same. “I should go check.”

“Your skin looked the normal amount of messed up because you never get moonglow when we changed your dressings,” Aradia replied. She let Sollux’s wrist go as they continued walking down unfamiliar halls together. “Your beautiful bone structure will not get acid-washed unless under my supervision or permission! You’re making excuses.”

“Making excuses implies–”

“That you’re scared?” Aradia cocked her head, the slow blink of her lashes almost audible as Sollux pursed his lips. “The big bad interrogatormentor is trying to skedaddle, it seems like. The Sk’dadler, they’ll call you.”

“That’s a stretch.”

“Good thing you’ve got freakishly long arms, then, even if one’s in a sling!” Aradia’s expression fell back into one more serious, the smile dropping from her eyes before it left her lips. “You need to do this. Interrogatormentors found the base, looking for you, and you can’t afford to be on the defensive right now.”

“I’m not the only target. What if they decide the homicidal time bomb is more trouble than it’s worth?”

Aradia reached up, grabbing one of his ears in a sharp pinch that sent a shock down his spine. She grinned, tombstone teeth bared in even rows as she gave him a disciplinary shake like a naughty woofbeast and not a loaded gun. “Then I get a free show as not getting your intel blows up in their faces.”

“They’re your people too. You want them to fail?”

“Our people deserve to fail if they won’t listen to you, Sollux,” Aradia said. She let go of his ear, metal fingers lingering a moment on his jaw as if she couldn’t tell he was moments from biting after manhandling him so carelessly. “A rebellion is all about risks, and you’re one that Karkat and I will take over and over again.” She raised a finger up, and Sollux snapped his mouth shut after starting to protest. “I wish you weren’t so hard on yourself. I saw you. Some things never change. You’re not getting pity points by saying you don’t deserve attention! Karkat might hand those out for free, but I won’t.”

Sollux avoided Aradia’s accusatory scowl, focusing instead on trying to hunch his shoulders in and minimize himself as they passed a random rebellion member who stared openly as they passed. His bad shoulder no longer clicked in its socket, discomfort now localized to his reconstructed hand.  “You’re both too good for me.”

“So many ears and you still can’t listen. Cliches won’t appease me–you have to come play in the dirt with me.” Aradia stopped outside a door, the only one in the hall that had a keypad. She entered in the code with her hand slightly cupped to shield it directly from Sollux’s eye before heading into a room that was thick with voices and agitated pheromones. Sollux himself hovered on the doorway, hesitating. Aradia and Karkat had ruined him; fear wrapped around his neck like a snare that he could not kick his way out of.

“...cannot afford to rush things. Insisting like you are–” Kanaya said from her seat partway down a long table, while Feferi massaged her temples with her eyes closed at the very head opposite the door.

An indigo interrupted her by raising his fist with full intent to slam it into the table, only for Nepeta to fling herself from the opposite side and worm her way under the approaching fist. The indigo’s hand faltered a millimeter above her skull, and Nepeta demurely batted at the quivering fist with the expression of a smug meowbeast knowing it had gotten away with pilfering the pantry. Equius, then, Sollux surmised. The hand came to rest on Nepeta’s face, and she gnawed at his steel-sculpted fingers as he spoke. “Waiting begets complacency. That pissant convinced us–Nepeta, please, some decorum would be appreciated.”

“Apurreciated but denied!” Nepeta chirped. “Quit being a shitsand dirtscraper first.”

“A shi… A–” Equius blustered.

Next to him at the table Vriska fucking Serket made an audible gagging noise, leaning as far as possible on her seat without falling backwards by some misbegotten miracle. A flicker of spite scurried up Sollux’s spine, itching at the wrist around which Aradia’s makeshift bracelet and urging him to remove it to psionically yank the chair completely out from under the smarmy cerulean. She opened her mouth to speak and every muscle in Sollux’s body tensed, a yellow film creeping across the edges of his vision like sickly clingfilm as his pusher began thundering panicked fury that he thought interrogatormentor training had long since locked away. A tunnel yawned open and stretched before him, and Vriska burned bright at the end of it as the walls threatened another cave-in like the one she’d coerced him to bury Aradia under so many sweeps ago.

A hand burst forth from the rubble and alighted upon his clenched jaw, and though it held none of her old warmth the prosthetic digits could not disguise Aradia’s touch. Sollux inhaled sharply through his nose, and the room’s occupants went silent just in time for him to reorient himself with Aradia’s hand at the center of his focus. He curled his uninjured hand into a fist to dig his nails into his palm to further ground himself and prevent this brazen display to fluster him, but to his dismay Aradia sussed out his usual tricks and quietly unfurled his spindly digits joint by joint. Sollux was forced to acknowledge the whole table without a lifeline of pain to shield his emotions, and even Karkat sitting opposite a startled-looking bronze with sweeping wings joined the mass of people pinning him down with their combined gaze. 

Eight people filled the eleven seats arranged around the table, as Nepeta’s abdication of her throne to menace her moirail table-surfing style meant the ninth stood temporarily empty. A twelfth chair covered by a dusty sheet brooded in a neglected corner. No evidence of the dust being disturbed surrounded the shrouded chair–one of the two missing members from the foundational core of rebellion leaders was expected to return, and the fact bronzeblood Tavros Nitram sat between Feferi at the head and Gamzee on his right at a table otherwise following a hemospectrum adherent seating chart told Sollux all he needed about who that was.

A familiar click of the tongue against teeth echoed around the room, and Sollux couldn’t help the way his ears flicked back behind him to try and catch further evidence of Pozoia’s imminent approach before he registered Terezi as the source. The tealblood bared her teeth in a knife-sharp grin, blind eyes boring holes into Sollux’s exposed throat from behind her shades. “Well, well, well, the rabid attack woofbeast of the Empire rouses from his daymares just in time for his trial. Have you got a tight grip on Appleberry Blast’s leash there, little bell pepper?”

“I mean, this could just stay a discussion,” Tavros said, raising his hands in a placating gesture as Karkat started vibrating in his seat. “I don’t think antagonizing–”

“Tavros is right,” Feferi said, also holding out a hand to Karkat. Tavros grimaced, but otherwise allowed the interruption. “We weren’t getting anywhere. Should we take a brief reefcess so I can glub with Aradia here?”

“You keep speaking our language and then managing to say absolutely nothing,” Terezi said, rapping her cane arythmically against the surface in front of her. “Say what you want to say before the jury!”

“Oh my gooooooood, you really are a broken record,” Vriska groaned, craning her head back towards Terezi. “Little pipsqueak wouldn’t survive a second in your wigglerfeed courtroom, this is true, but you can’t just bulldoze your way into that kind of snoozefest. We all deserve to participate in ripping that loser a new one for barging in on us.”

“Every drama needs a peanut gallery,” Terezi snipped back, and Vriska scoffed. Feferi smiled tensely, but her eyelid twitched.

“Sollux can speak for himself,” Aradia said shortly before the fuschiablood could speak. “And he’ll do it at the seat we saved for him.” She slid her hand down Sollux’s face to lead him by the wrist around the table to the two empty seats, located between Nepeta’s vacated seat and Karkat. The mutant’s claws were currently digging into the table with a creaking of metal that had Equius automatically doing a glance over of his own place at the table with hooded eyes. Finding his section undented, he took a sip from the glass Nepeta handed to him before she slithered back across the table to her proper place. Everyone else had water, a few pitchers sitting in the middle of the table to refresh them, but cloudy white swirled within Equius’ glass. The liquid left a gritty film on Equius’ lip that he dabbed away with the back of his knuckles as he made direct, glowering eye contact with Sollux as the latter rounded the outskirts of the room with Aradia. Powdered milk, then. 

Sollux didn’t blink, muscle memory snapping him up into an interrogatormentor’s posture while his shoulders and head dropped by a few degrees–a predator two steps removed from a wild howlbeast sizing up prey as it stalked through the flickering shadows of a dying campfire. Equius’ nostrils flared a bit and Sollux mimicked him instinctively, head cocking very slightly to the side and down. He adjusted his gait and shifted his weight forward so he stalked silently alongside Aradia upon the balls of his feet and towered above the seated trolls he passed behind. Kanaya watched him ghost along out of the corner of her eye, and even Vriska tensed across the way when an interrogatormentor’s shade passed before her. 

Sollux remained steadfast as friends and conspirators now flinched with every purposeful twitch of his ears, his own eyes stinging as he needled his gaze into the bloodshot eyes squinting accusatorily at him behind cracked frames. He couldn’t back down now. Equius' chin dipped down by an increment, a refusal to relent and a hair’s breadth from a goring posture. Sollux stayed the course and copied him in an almost simultaneous motion. Equius wore his heart upon his sweaty bicep–he never could resist the predictable chorus set in the siren song of blueblooded posturing even through text. Here and now, Sollux had to win this highblood’s obvious challenge, the call to submit as he should by virtue of the swill in his veins. He couldn’t show weakness in this moment, not to anyone, not with what was at stake and nestled in his pocket. One of the many globules of sweat beading the indigo’s hairline rolled down his crooked nose, dropping into his cup.

The surface tension of the milk broke with a soft plip that echoed in the silent room, and Equius’ fist clenched around the glass. Slivers of silver traced their way up the cup in a delicate network of straining material. Nepeta ducked under the table, while Vriska and Gamzee on either side of Equius raised their hands protectively in practiced tandem. Sollux stopped in place and braced even as Aradia tugged insistently at him, his eyes watering and blinking wide as Equius rotated his shoulder in a clear bid to throw the rapidly splintering glass leaking milk through his meaty fingers directly at Sollux’s vulnerable ganderbulbs. Sollux stood firm. He couldn’t blink. Not now. Not yet.

Tch. Equius blinked and looked down the table, and the broken stalemate freeing Sollux to cringe away from the tongue click behind Aradia’s shoulder as if to shield himself in her unruly curls. Vriska tittered behind her hand, casting a smug expression to the repeat offender next to her. Terezi sniffed but did not so much as tip an ear the cerulean’s direction to acknowledge the attention, instead leaning forward in her seat towards Sollux’s approximate location. Her tongue flickered out from between her dagger teeth–a musing, reptilian probing of the cortisol-charged air as she tried to gauge his response to her stunt. Sollux held his breath to stifle the way his breath shuddered out from his lungs, falling back on Rapard’s training in suppressing his stress pheromones after repeated trips to the ice bath. The cold crept along his brainstem, freezing his panic into a knife he no longer knew how to wield against himself. It pressed up against the back of his eyes, a migraine slanting along its serrated blade with glacial inevitability.

Aradia managed to get Sollux moving again with a hand on the small of his back, and the instant he stepped into range Karkat clung to his good arm. The scarletblood ushered Sollux into the seat right next to him as he growled deep in his throat across the table to the cadre of coolbloods gathered together, ears pinned flat to his skull. He kept side-eying Sollux however, for all his bluster just as thrown off by Sollux’s presence as the other trolls around the table. Bewildered irritation flashed across Feferi’s face despite her best efforts to maintain a smile, but Aradia ignored this and the way Sollux leaned back very slightly in a toothless attempt to distance himself. Instead she simply brushed some clinging dust off of the seat to Sollux’s left before sitting there herself.

Nepeta wormed her way up from under the furniture to squiggle into Equius’ lap, plucking the cup away from him and chugging what milk remained before flurrying his sweat-sticky cheek with furious pitter-paps. His scowl softened, granite melting to ashy marble for a moment. Something twisted deep in Sollux, wrenching his intestines into knots that sent bile bubbling at the back of his throat, and he tugged his arm free of Karkat’s hold. 

Finally, Aradia broke the awkward silence. “Right! Let me fill in the blanks here for you, Sollux. We’re still on the topic of if you can be trusted.”

Kanaya lifted her eyes to the ceiling as if praying for patience, while a few other trolls shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Feferi’s tense smile dropped. “Aradia–”

“Don’t ‘Aradia’ me, Feferi Peixes,” Aradia snapped back. She lifted her head, chin up just enough to maintain a level of respectful civility while not yet exposing her throat. “This isn’t about me! Let Sollux defend himself. He actually has something important–”

“Does he want to?” Feferi tilted her head very slightly back all the same, hollow of her throat exposed to Aradia in a genuine bid gesture of appeasement to soften her query’s bite. She waited, fins fanning her face. Terezi clicked her tongue again in the background, and Sollux’s pan reset once again as he scrambled to put the right words in place only for them to die in the cocoon.

Gamzee leaned forward. “Come on, then. No need to be all motherfucking shy, my spindly little blade-brother. Long as you keep your motherfucking sparks under control I don’t see why everyone’s gotta be so wound tight. I’d like to see if you’ve still got your chops when it comes to motherfucking chopping. We got a few tough nuts we need to motherfucking crack, so let’s see if you break first.”

Sollux forced his jaw to unclench. “If I got to work on your prisoners you wouldn’t have anything left of them.”

Feferi sighed as a good number of the others tensed, dry gills fluttering in the recycled air. Her chin lowered. “He’s been through a lot, Aradia. I didn’t even minnow he was awake yet. Don’t you think this is a bit cruel?”

“Cruelty is a bit subjective here, is it not?” Kanaya asked, addressing the ceiling. She lowered her eyes, lips pressed together in a thin line. “Sollux proved himself very capable when he managed to hack into our network in order to contact you.”

Sollux bristled, leaning forward and opening his mouth–it hadn’t been hard, really, considering that he’d coded the network to be his mirror back before the helm–only for Karkat to pipe up then. He hadn’t looked at Sollux since the latter had pulled out of his grip. “Do I need to fucking remind everyone that he got absolutely fucking wrecked for it? How much more do I need to rub the solid facts in your face like a mistrained woofbeast for you to remember? Do I need the fucking receipts? The literal scans of his nearly deboned nub? You were all on board for extracting him in the first place, and you were all made thoroughly aware of the many potential risks of rehabilitating him, and you committed with a merry fucking by your leave as you left me and Aradia to reassemble the expansive jigsaw that is our erstwhile companion now returned to us. What could have possibly changed now? We’re talking in such tight fucking circles that it’s going to catch my bulge in a vice and leave me fucking hurling up putrescent bloodclots by the trough-full before the night’s over.”

Gamzee’s head bobbed very slowly, and he yawned once before drawling out, “Sir Motherfucker was found elbow-deep in interrogatormentor gore, that’s what motherfuckin’ changed for those gathered here this light-lean night.” The purple swayed in place, tilting from one side to the next with the same inconsistent timing as his shifting opinions. He leaned his head in his hand while an index finger idly swirled the grease paint at the corner of his mouth into a tight smile-spiral. They’d all been arguing in this room for a while for his sealant to fade enough for him to do so. “Looks like he tried to motherfucking dance to the empirical drumbeat behind your back without knowing all the steps and panicked when it broke bad.”

Vriska splayed her fingers on the table as she leered at Karkat. “Was it behind his back though? Drama queen bee had to get his cuff off somehow.”

The knife twisted into Sollux’s eye socket, infuriated headache spiking further pain through his pan. Karkat sputtered, saying something that Sollux didn’t catch. Vriska had rolled her eyes in response to the mutant, one good eye and one cybernetic settling their disrespectful arc to lock Sollux in place. Cobalt threads of mindscourging tried to worm their way into his corneas like parasitic hookworms. Confess embroidered itself across the back of his eyelids, just in time for yet another trigger-click of Terezi’s tongue.

Sollux flung himself from his seat, catching his chair with his good hand as he vaulted onto the table and attempting to fling it over his head with his forward momentum. Vriska cursed under her breath and raised her metal arm to block the incoming projectile. Karkat let out a startled yelp, grabbing onto Sollux’s ankle, and while Sollux managed to kick him away the chair’s clumsy trajectory still wobbled wide. Nepeta hissed and rolled off to the side  as Equius stood. One huff and a settling of his weight, and Equius threw a haymaker that rendered the chair to fragments of wood that rained down around him in a swirl of sawdust.

Equius pointed at Sollux, hair falling into his eyes as he snarled, “You see this? You see how the little brute shows his true colors after I pressed him with such strong–”

“You pressed him?” Vriska said, an indignant flush rising up her cheeks. “Leave it to the muscle pervert to talk a biiiiiiiig fucking talk about knowing his damn place beneath the ladies but taking credit whenever he can.”

Equius sputtered. “I wasn’t– No, you know I. Um. Underneath. Hgkkhg.” Nepeta emerged from the aether again, holding a towel that she proceeded to drape around her moirail’s shoulders. She stuck her tongue out at Vriska, who squinted with a sneer blademeowbeast-style as she wiggled her fingers at Equius.

 “Hhhhng,” he continued helpfully as he attempted to stem the flow of sweat by dabbing at his face.

Karkat squeezed something akin to a scream from between his teeth. “Great, now he’s going to get his wiggly-sproutsmear all over the floor. We are going to drown in vile milk-scented blue slurry for perigees and it will never fucking escape the crevices of my very thinkpan without a generous amount of abrasive cleaning solution. Great! Always grateful for you, Vriska, you are a credit to the fucking team, are you happy now?”

“Yes,” Vriska purred.

Karkat let out a peal of frantic laughter. “Hooray! By the Helmsman’s necrotic left globe, we are not about to support women’s wrongs here–”

“Just did, little buddygrub.”

“—especially not after you clearly provoked, fuck, both of them. Let it be known by the present fucking peanut gallery that it was very, very pointedly masterminded by our resident spiderbitch! Fuck me sideways with the business end of a rust-infested leafscraper if you resent my heretical sludge so fucking much, Serket!”

“Ew, no.”

“Shut up. Sollux, get down from there. You’ve done enough.” His voice cracked a little bit, shaking the frost from Sollux’s rage and leaving him quivering. Sollux retreated, dropping to a knee to clamber down from the table with his tail between his legs, but Terezi rapped her cane on the table and hopped up onto it.

“We eat off of this,” Kanaya said, a long-suffering sigh drawing her mouth into a resigned frown. 

“The memory of feet isn’t going to throw me off a delicious ration cube,” Terezi said. She advanced on Sollux, a familiar prowling that echoed the stance she’d never seen–the way Sollux had circled the table mere minutes before to menace Equius. “Besides, we’ve got a more important task! Permission to treat this as a formal court hearing, oh Heiress of the Planets Above and Below?”

Feferi looked between Terezi and Sollux, worrying her lip with her teeth as her attention lingered on Sollux. “Shore, why naut? Does everyone agree to the terms that would fintail?”

Murmured assent rose from the trolls assembled around the table, with Karkat and Aradia being the main oppostion, and Terezi clapped her hands together once the votes came in. “Then allow me to formally thank you so much, first witness Sollux Captor, for taking the stand. Welcome! To!” She spun in place, brandishing her arms wide before lowering her cane to point somewhere above Sollux’s right shoulder. “The trial of Karkat Vantas!”

The table erupted with protests, but all the bluster washed over Sollux’s head. His knee creaked as he continued half-kneeling, but Terezi’s words lay outside expected parameters–his synapses fired against nothing and locked his limbs in place. Vriska rolled her eyes with an audible clicking of the prosthetic in its socket and stretched out her leg as she let out a squeaky yawn. She kicked out her foot against Terezi’s elbow, tipping the cane down to point past Sollux to Karkat proper. Terezi hummed, a disharmonious grating against Sollux’s aural canals, waiting for a lull before lifting her voice to slice through the din.

“In this corner, shoulder to shoulder with the Heiress and a lemon-sour flight risk sits the defendant Karkat Vantas–” she said, rotating in place to address the entire table. “--who is formally charged by my client Vriska Serket–”

Vriska scoffed. “I’m not paying you.” 

Sollux’s lip twitched up to flash a fang at her. “Get pro-boned then.”

Terezi cackled, ruined eyes squinted into ruby slits as Sollux withdrew at last to his seat. “Ah you forget, Appleberry, working pro bono implies I’m doing this for a public good.” Vriska let out an offended gasp in the background behind Terezi’s back as the latter continued on. “So we will see where the coin flip lands.” She waggled her head back from one shoulder to the other to accentuate her next few syllables. “A-ny-ways, client number eight–”

Tavros whispered behind his hand, and Sollux’s ears twitched to catch him as he said, “...a bit forced isn’t it?” to Gamzee who nodded to an imaginary beat with his eyes closed.

Terezi continued. “—accuses the defendant of aiding and abetting the Empire against which we all fight by facilitating former Interrogatormentor Sollux Captor’s escape from his psionic cuffs by providing him…” She trailed off, holding a hand out to prompt Vriska.

Vriska shrugged. “The key?” 

“The key. Interesting.” Terezi’s needle-spiked sneer widened. “To do what? We have a means proposed, not a motive–and so the interrogation must continue!”

Sollux sucked in a harsh breath and held it. Karkat finally found his voice, a snarl deep in his throat warping his words into guttural grit. “Don’t think I’m not onto you, Pyrope,” he said, side-eying Sollux. “You seem to operate under the assumption that I am as dense as I was as the pathetic, malformed grublet of six sweeps. I am not! And I swear to the malformed baabeast you’ve coerced into gutting itself to try and tug its dripping pelt over my fucking ganderbulbs, back off before I shove that cane of yours through your nook so far up your throat you’ll be tasting ripped up genebladder and red cane for a whole perigee.”

“Thought you were over trying to be onto me, little shoutnub,” Terezi said. Karkat screamed into his hands, almost drowning out the tealblood’s boisterous peals of laughter. Vriska booed as Terezi pulled a scuffed coin from her pocket, flicking it head-over-tailways between her fingers. “I don’t need much longer anyways.”

The heels of Terezi’s eye-searingly red boots clicked on the table as she advanced on Karkat. She rustled around in a pocket, whatever objects she was retrieving gently clacking against each other. Behind Terezi, Gamzee cracked an eye open as a baggie of mismatched pills plopped onto the table. A few capsules escaped their plastic prison, spinning out haphazardly. One rolled to the edge and Sollux cupped his hand, catching it before it dropped out of sight.

Terezi’s ears, already at an automatic angle, flicked forward when no telltale click of pills hitting the ground reached them. She sniffed, turning her head. “I now call the witness Sollux Captor to the stand. Share with the court your findings.”

Sollux snorted, but took a cursory look at the nondescript pill in his hand. He lifted the pill to his lips, but Aradia’s hand shot out to stop him before he could bring it properly to his lips. He made direct eye contact with her as his forked tongue flickered out, closing the gap and making brief contact with the pills surface. His nose wrinkled up, and he flicked the pill back onto the table with its fellows after Aradia relinquished his wrist. “That one’s a mood stabilizer. I don’t know what the others are. They’re all illegal as fuck.”

Terezi let out a noise that mimicked a very loud incorrect buzzer. “Eeeeehrrrrrt! So close, buddy. You forgot those things are dual-purpose. Rookie mistake. Super right on the illegality front, though. You would not believe the red tape surrounding those things.”

“I’m not your buddy.”

“From buddy to buzzkill, okay! Well, little buzzy beeboy–”

“I had a bee-powered rig. Doesn’t make me like bees.”

“Those fuckers are annoying,” Karkat muttered under his breath.

Sollux blinked, looking over to him. “Are?”

“We! Are! Getting! Sidetracked!” said Terezi, punctuating each word with her cane slamming down into the table. 

“You took us on the detour first, Terezi,” Feferi said. “Please get to the point.” Her attempt at a civil, apologetic smile audibly creaked against itself as she gritted her teeth.

 “The point, Bubblegum Fishstick, is that Docterror Dzuvir informed me that even with my status as the once and future prosecutefence he wasn’t allowed to state who took this cocktail of antispasmodics, painkillers, and a mood stabilizer that has a secondary function as an anticonvulsant.” Terezi made a point to peer over her glasses, blind eyes almost making contact with Sollux’s. The lilt to her voice dropped, leaving behind a barren plane of judgement as she nudged the pill bag with her foot. “But I think that paints a pretty picture, doesn’t it?”

“Quit your convoluted as fuck pan-games, Pyrope,” Karkat hissed. “As riveting as it is to watch you verbally wiggle-wank yourself to fucking completion in front of whatever dead god that peers through the fucking veil in one last final act of voyeurism that it deigns to share with everyone gathered here, you’re just spewing loose information like a headless cluckbeast spasming for the masses. Why do you even fucking have–”

“A lot of bluster from the accused who happens to oversee the vast majority of our supply and personnel chains, including being the one to make judgement calls on the allocation of medical supplies. I found those pills in your block, Vantas. Very incriminating, isn’t it?” 

“I’ve never seen those before in my fucking life,” Karkat said. The words caught in his throat, and if Sollux didn’t know better he’d think the scarletblood sounded afraid.

“Neither have I.” Terezi’s now-toneless drone echoed in the room, ringing in Sollux’s ears. She crouched atop the table in front of Karkat, for all intents and purposes focusing on him, but her tongue snaked out to moisten the corner of her mouth closest to Sollux with her ears pricked in his direction as well. “Blind jokes aside, I have been patient. In the eyes of a proper Imperial court, I’ve been positively kind! I gave you a lot of grace, but such attempts to defend one’s self and speak in court is categorically banned here as it would be in the Alternian Court Circuit. Social convention steals from the law with impunity and those assembled voted on treating this as a proper hearing. You think anyone here respects your opinion right now?”

“The responsibility falls to the witness,” Sollux said. Everyone turned to look at him except for Terezi, who rocked on her heels with returned giddiness.

“Wait, sorry, hold on,” Tavros said, brows furrowed. “I thought that uh… Well, he’s the one we’re worried about, right?”

“Yeah, why the hell does he get a fucking opinion?” Vriska added.

“Bunch of pish-posh applesauce over here,” Gamzee drawled. He lolled his head back, blowing a bubble of spit through a gap in his teeth before popping it with his tongue. “You motherfucking voted to let her play legislacerator. Let the motherfuckin’ flames climb your wretched frame upon the pyre you motherfucking built.”

“Aaaaaaagh! That doesn’t count!” Vriska screamed. She leaned over, basically climbing over Equius’ back to smack furiously at Gamzee’s shoulder. Tavros bared his teeth to the gums, canines in the light of Vriska’s cybernetic eye, and let out a wicked hiss to Gamzee’s left. The noise seemed to surprise all involved, culminating in Vriska settling back into her seat with a sullen glower. Tavros kneaded at his breastbone with a faint expression, as if favoring an old wound.

Terezi’s laugh rose an octave. “So true, worstie! This is my court, my witness, and my client-slash-victim! Can you be a good girl for me and keep your tongue behind your teeth until I need to put some holes in it, blueberry bramblemite?”

Vriska’s ears flicked, and she casually flipped her hair to the forefront to disguise the way they flushed blue at Terezi’s words. “Two-faced slitherbeast,” she muttered, pointedly avoiding looking up as Kanaya snorted.

“I’ll take it.” Terezi yawned wide, teeth snapping together like a cholerbeartrap on the start of her sentence. “So.” She advanced on Sollux again, flicking a pill towards him with the end of her cane. “Had enough time to identify the user?”

The pill pinged against Sollux’s nose. He didn’t flinch. “Former Interrogatormentor Vitzii Pozoia.”

“Former?”

“Imperial protocol when an interrogatormentor is compromised is title stripping and a culling order.”

“Hm.” Terezi clicked her tongue a few times, each time spiking Sollux’s blood pressure. Aradia’s lip curled a bit, mouth open enough to drink in the stress pheromones oozing from Sollux’s neck. She reached out to put her hand atop his, but he instead raised it to bat away another projectile. Said pill-pelter continued speaking. “So what do these little morsels do, anyway?”

“Address neurotoxin-induced brain damage of the motor and sensory cortices, is my guess,” Sollux replied, refusing to acknowledge Vriska mimicking his snaggle-toothed lisp under her breath. “Listen, I have–”

“You’ll answer all questions posed to you before proceeding, witness. Is there no way to mitigate an interrogatormentor’s death sentence in the eyes of the Empire?”

“Successful information extraction might do it, but it’s a stretch. At this point he’d need a life to exchange for his.”

“Why is that?”

“He’s been gone too long. His condition would be a risk in the field if he ran out of what he needed and they already had his replacement waiting in the wings when you all took him. The Empire needs proof of concept.”

Nepeta leaned forward, whispering something in Equius’ ear. He peered over the edge of his glasses to Feferi first and then to Sollux before letting out a soft rumble of approval to his moirail. Tavros smoothed out a crinkled wing filament, also shooting furtive glances to Feferi and Sollux both.

Terezi bobbed her head. “Fascinating. Would denying him his medication serve as an appropriate motivator to drive him back to the arms of the Empire?”

“No. We were told upon starting our training that all our quadrants were either culled or placed in protective custody to eliminate attachments. He’d know his matesprit was here at some point and the Empire wouldn’t be able to close that gap.” 

A sick suspicion bubbled in him and he tried reaching into his hoodie pockets for the paper within so he could be done with this whole affair, only for Terezi to wipe his pan again with a disapproving click of her tongue. She sounded so much like Pozoia, infuriatingly so, and the noise eliminated all of Sollux’s rational thought as Terezi continued uninterrupted. “Moirail too,” she said dismissively. “Your point is noted, witness, but I’m not sure how firm those bonds he has are.”

“A lot of losers around here like to simp for lost causes,” Vriska grumbled, still sulking as she swirled a finger along the rim of her water glass.

“They certainly do,” Kanaya said with a sigh, but the resigned tilt to her eyebrows spoke more to some inner frustration than an attempt to build onto Vriska’s attempted barb. 

Sollux’s eyes glazed over. He didn’t want to listen to this inane chatter. He simultaneously didn’t want to maintain this discussion of the trolls who’d made his life a living hell, perpetuating the guilt and hurt that every troll victimized by the Empire held in their slurry-spun genetic code in a circular chasm of chromatic trauma. The long-dead Ualona clung wetly to his lapels, sputtering out, What did they promise you? The Empire had upheld its end of the bargain while he served as an interrogatormentor–Karkat hadn’t found himself in its clutches. Whether that was due to his own ingenuity or the pact he’d made Sollux didn’t know, but he no longer held interrogatormentor status. Did the Empire find a method by which to sway one of the last bastions of his sanity? Would Karkat deny a seasoned interrogatormentor instructor medication and send him into a withdrawal-fueled manic breakdown? 

Worse scenarios carved icy channels up his spine–Sollux had proven himself a successful agent of the Empire, tormenting rebels within his brig in a twisted haze of helmsman conditioning-tinged megalomania exacerbated by a lack of stability and a support network. He still remembered their wailing and his own desperation to lash out, to make something hurt like he hurt, and his programming filled in the blanks. Would Karkat comfort him with one hand and set his worst nightmare upon him with the other? He’d seen Karkat cursing about getting shipments past Imperial blockades enough. He’d eliminate the risk of exposure by ridding himself of the need to smuggle an illegal medication through checkpoints and the vengeful shadow of a friend with one platonic duel with enough careful orchestration. 

Terezi’s voice swam through the thick fog Sollux’s head swam with. “A counterpoint, then. Would said denial, coupled with a promise to return said medication, finally solidify his allegiance to the rebellion?”

Sollux choked down a mass of bile and mucus balling in the back of his throat. “Not. By itself,” he gritted out. “He’d need external motivation.”

“A push. An inciting incident. A trigger to the loaded gun in his thinkpan.”

“Sure.” 

“Such as, for example, a troll freshly sprung from the Imperial crèche starting to nose around his safe harbor?” Sollux did not respond, and Terezi cocked her head to the side. “I do remember Vantas not long ago in this very room arguing for your solo ventures to the exercise room so you could what, do physical therapy?” 

Equius let out a derisive bark of near-laughter. “I expressed my doubts about the validity of that request. The sardonic, layabout twinArmageddons, shedding his erstwhile dependence on his psionics to do his bidding in favor of becoming a gym squeaker? It is an insult to those of us born with actual strength and valor.”

“Hey, that’s not fair to Karkitty,” Nepeta said, lightly bapping a chagrined Equius on the knuckles. “He wouldn’t do that to Pawllux.”

Gamzee waved his hand in a flippant, circular motion. “Nah, nah, it’s because she’s tugging your motherfucking chains to pump her ego full of hot air. Switch the names around, wrap them around, affix the nameplate proper ‘round the neck of the dirtbound hangman in our motherfucking midst. Captor didn’t motherfucking know about the bayou-bopper rotting in the next wing until we all started biting for his rehabilitation to pick up the motherfucking pace.” He leaned forward, eyes wide open for the first time the whole meeting. “We start fiending for a motherfucking miracle in gore-gold finery to nab us an opening aboard the Imperial fleetschool, and bam!” Gamzee’s words, climbing with every syllable, finally peaked into a roar that thundered with ancestral malevolence.  A sing-song whisper followed, half-buried underneath the echo still rolling through the room. “The two powder kegs paint their sanguine music on the blockwalls and the victor sits in pieces that our resident spitfire gets to coddle back together into one loyal, obedient, battle-hardened piece of tantrum-split pottery to act as our skeleton key. We should be motherfucking grateful we get to grind his gold-grit marrow into the lacquer ourselves.”

A creeping terror gnawed at the nape of Sollux’s neck, bringing with it the insidious idea that Karkat had something to do with this after all. He couldn’t figure out Gamzee’s angle, twisting as it was in eldritch spirals of conflicting motivations. His interrogatormentor training failed to find purchase in the purple’s paint, microexpressions slipping off the slippery surface of Gamzee’s face in a field of black and white. He hated that he could see the logic there. Karkat hid his social cunning in layers of bluster and expletives, ensconcing himself defensively in petty, vindictive vendettas that bit any hand that struck at him or those he cared about. The leap wasn’t far, that a desperate Karkat backed against the wall would throw his best friend into the fire in the hopes he’d emerge with loyalty and affection restored. They’d both tormented each other, casually and with frivolity, and threatened worse on many an occasion. They’d grown into themselves and apart, and for all his talk of memory to ground him the seed of doubt sprouted–did he even know Karkat anymore? 

The room filled with bickering, everyone’s voices clashing up against each other. Sollux tried to listen, tried to grab onto anything that sounded like words, but understanding slipped through his fingers in a silvery stream. He couldn’t pick out a consistent tone of condemnation or support, no line drawing itself in the sand Gamzee had strewn all over the proceedings. He dimly registered movement, scenes flickering like a faulty projector’s slideshow against his eyes as he disassociated–Terezi lambasting Gamzee for snatching away her grand reveal, Feferi standing up in attempt to clutch the last threads of democracy her co-conspirators seemed intent on unraveling with bickering, Tavros chewing his nails down into nubs. 

Uncertainty burned holes into the canvas stretched over Sollux’s ocular cavities until all that remained was Karkat, his own eyes wet and wide and pleading. He didn’t remember turning to look at Karkat, nor crowding all his limbs into his chair with the grace of a grotesque scrambling for a perch without purpose atop this harlequin cathedral’s facade. Ruddy tears bubbled from Karkat’s saline expunger ducts, spilling forth without a need to blink. He didn’t blink. A false crier would blink, screw up their face and nose, rub their face, something, but Karkat’s apparent misery flowed from him without effort. He wore terror well, soft cheeks wet and quivering and flushed with frantic and heretical warmth, but Sollux had no way to identify the source of his despair. Innocence, or the realization of a plan unraveled?

A metallic glint streaked on Sollux’s periphery–a coin tossed high. Scratch up, scratch down, light catching on uneven edges and dents, and with a ping Terezi’s cane made contact with the coin on its descent. It ricocheted towards Sollux and he ripped the psionic-dampening bracelet from his hand. He’d trained for many grueling hours to stop projectiles even before his time as an interrogatormentor and he needed to prepare for further threats.

Tchhht! 

A final tongue click sounded in synchronicity with the resurgence of the damned crying mercy, the doomed caterwauling in full force. Sollux recoiled, the coin striking him square in the forehead. In that moment fear coalesced into a jagged spike of iron centered on the impact site, radiating psionic energy and dripping with cerulean and yellow ichor. He saw Vitzii Pozoia standing over him with his makeshift spear as he fell onto his back, he saw Rapard cracking his knuckles in a cloud of freezer vapor, he saw Juyere and Rosmer and Ophlia and Ualona staring balefully at him from the depths of their sunken sockets. The figures all bled together in a pulsing amalgam of misery and condemnation made flesh.

Psionics whipped around his head, lights swaying and flickering to the beat of the sobbing half-screams tearing out of Sollux’s throat in harmony with the full force of his personal doomed choir. Disembodied hands snatched at anything they could reach as he thrashed in and out of range, sight and hearing and touch blending together in a catastrophic storm of hellish, psionic synesthesia. He couldn’t sort between the physical and the ethereal, alien voices suspended in bloody bubbles leaking from his eyes and lips and entombing him in a column of monolithic petrichor. Shadows surged forward as his psionics chewed through Sollux’s connection to reality, recoiling only when wood and metal creaked as chairs surged to encase him in a protective shell. He could hear his teeth hatching, enamel falling to dentin to cementum settling back in his lungs each time he inhaled.

A lighthouse kept a steadfast vigil on the cliffs of Sollux’s despair, foghorn sounding in the dark. Sollux sucked in a breath and lurched upright, a horror-movie snap to his spine as his limbs dangled in the wake of his psionics doing the brunt of his work. He fell into Aradia for a moment, scrabbling for purchase, and she didn’t flinch even as his psionics burned surface streaks of Lichtenberg figures along her face in the wake of his clawing fingers. She merely let out a roughshod purr, pressing her burning cheek to his. She filled half his pusher with her earthy pale pheromones, but it wasn’t enough. Hands came in pairs and so Sollux dove for the other, colliding with Karkat’s chest as he sobbed hysterically. 

Karkat’s hand lowered atop his head, psionics dissipating from the static shock of hair flying around Sollux’s ears in its wake. Sollux bit down on the redblood’s palm but Karkat did not pull away, staying still until Sollux relaxed his jaw. Karkat did not hide the wound, and before impulse control could catch up to him Sollux licked the treasonous beads of crimson away.

The coin unstuck itself from the surface of Sollux’s forehead, spinning out across the table. It spiraled once, justice’s face with a score across her eyes grinning at the ceiling. Another spin and the coin glowered at the ground, unmarked and pure. Sollux hid his face in Karkat’s neck, sneezing as rather than the typical gentle pheromones he was met with an explosion of pale signals fired out of the other troll’s scent glands like a gun. He sagged into Karkat, effectively tranquilized and shuddering as Aradia pressed her temple to Karkat’s and wrapped her arm around Sollux’s chest to keep him flush to her. She breathed, deliberate and forceful, and once they all breathed in unison she eased them all into two seats between the three of them.

The coin settled. Justice scowled up at the silent room, unblemished dismay painted across her metal features. All the trolls in the room had backed away from Sollux after his outburst, the remaining chairs haphazardly strewn about by the brief psionic squall in a makeshift blockade around Sollux and atop the table proper. Terezi popped out from behind her chair with a fearless crow of delight. “The coin has delivered its final verdict–the guilty has proven his innocence before the court!” She puffed out her chest, gesturing wide at the table. Her arm swept past the coin. “Karkat Vantas is acquitted of all charges against his personal character and blah blah blah, you all know this wasn’t who this trial was for.”

“Oh, wow,” Kanaya deadpanned. She fetched her chair, dragging it into place and settling back down. “No. I cannot believe this shocking turn of events. Color may return to my cheeks.”

She was drowned out by Vriska cutting in with a shrieked, “What?! You!”

“Teehee,” Terezi said, fighting back an actual laugh as she plucked her own seat from the mountain of wayward furniture.

“You maniacal, insensible fuckgavel,” Karkat said faintly, with no small amount of awe in his voice.

“Apologies for the deception, cherry tart, but I needed to pull out all the stops to interrogate an interrogatormentor! Especially with how the whole deck of cards almost combusted considering how the one-troll cough-syurp brigade decided to blow my load for me.”

“Always happy to give a motherfucker a handy,” Gamzee said. He sniffed, looking down his nose at Terezi. “Don’t blame a motherfucker for getting bored.” 

Terezi flipped her hair in Gamzee’s face, plopping into her seat and kicking her feet. “You didn’t notice the like, nine thousand holes in my line of questioning? I did find the pills in your block, technically, but only because Dzuvir was looking for you on his way to fuss at his loser moirail and shove pills down his throat.”

“You’re picking those up, by the way,” Karkat said with a sharp tone, pointedly ignoring the apology. Terezi’s ears briefly flicked back, but neither of them let their guards down. Karkat shook the moment away and continued. “What did he want?”

“Something about checking in about Riarra’s mission. Pozoia’s climbing the fucking walls about him being gone too long or something. I think he can suffer a little longer.”

“Mmrmmrmgmgl,” Sollux gurgled into Karkat’s barrel chest. He tried to lift his head, but the adrenaline crash proved more powerful and rendered him a overcooked noodle.

“Sure, sure, whatever you say,” Terezi said absently.

“What have you proven here, seaxactly?” Feferi looked equal parts relieved and frustrated as she spoke. “You put this entire counchil in peril! Look at the state of Sollux, the poor fin. This isn’t reely a point in our favor to make shore he’s on our side.”

“Eh, he’s a fucking adult, he can handle it,” Terezi said. “What did I prove? Our worries were his sparing of Pozoia was a fluke, and he only scrambled for help from rosewater carp over there when he got in over his head. That, and that he’d reach out to the Empire after lulling us into a false sense of security, especially since he found you so easily.” She began counting on her fingers. “He doesn’t think Vitzii Pozoia was acting on Imperial orders. This was a personal moobeast butcher-slab between them. A dull milk-solid condiment spreader was found on the scene that he used to break from his cuff, confirming my sources’ observation that he’d stolen the implement a while back.”

“You… You knew this the…the whole, uh…the whole time?” Tavros’ words stutter-stopped with an increased frequency, exasperation plastered over his face.

“Yurp.”

“Don’t fucking… ehm–yerp? At me?”

“No, yurp. You gotta drop your jaw. Anyways, yeah, absolutely. But if we keep him under the tightest security, how are we going to see what he does when he thinks our guard is down?” Terezi smiled demurely as Tavros opened his mouth then closed it again. “If he wanted to kill Pozoia from the get-go, he’d have freed himself without breaking his wrist into… How many pieces, Feferi? You fixed him up.”

“Two, nautureely,” Feferi said from behind her hand. A telltale, upturned crinkle at the corner of her eyes betrayed her otherwise contemplative expression. 

 “Naturally.” Terezi inclined her head to Feferi. “So that confirms that he wasn’t acting on the Empire’s orders–you heard it from him. Pozoia has a culling order by virtue of his prolonged stay with us, not to mention a condition that any propaganda-gorged soldier would volunteer to get shot behind the shed about. An interrogatormentor acting in full capacity would have had his psionics primed and ready to cull.” She gestured at Sollux. Sollux peered back at her from underneath Karkat’s jaw, too exhausted to interrupt. “After interviewing the moirail of Vitzii Pozoia, and reviewing the footage we extracted of Captor’s schoolfeedings, I isolated an external tell common among those lucky cull-dodgers suffering absence seizures–a tap of the tongue as consciousness returns. Said noise is enough to trigger an involuntary psionic meltdown from Appleberry here, but notice something in particular.” 

She leaned forward. “An agent of the Empire, faced with a cripple and a dissident, directs their rage outwards. They handle things independently, especially if they’ve got as much raw firepower as he does. We got a nubbin of Captor’s power on our tongues–Pozoia should be ash.” Her expression sobered. “Most of you did not watch Captor’s interrogatormentor schoolfeeds. As my eyes, Kanaya, share your opinion of the torments Captor and his unit at the hands of people such as Pozoia featured in those archives”

Kanaya’s lips pursed. “Death is a mercy for those involved,” she said with a vitriolic hiss.

Something rattled inside Sollux’s ribcage, a bemused fluttering at how disgusted someone he’d attempted to disembowel when last they met sounded on his behalf. He started shaking, horns sparking painfully, and Aradia caressed his face before slipping the psionic bracelet back around his wrist. 

Terezi nodded, running her hands along the interlocked chair wall. “My panmeat should be spattered across the ceiling after I repeatedly bonked that cholerbear on the snoot, but the explosion pulled in, it shielded… On Alternian soil and in its airspace, cowards survive skirting the shadow of the culling knife and the oppressors thrive along its blade. We need someone that can dance along both.” She took a breath. “Now, are you going to share with me why you smell like blood and formaldehyde, Appleberry?”

The rebel council turned in unison to Sollux, and in that moment he balked. He started shaking again, saliva started to pool  in his mouth as nausea rolled through him. Aradia slid her hand down his torso, still purring but with purpose now. Sollux acquiesced to her silent direction, rolling his hips back against her in a gradually relaxing stretch and giving her the gap she needed to pull the folded paper he had tucked within his hoodie pocket. He’d shoved it there after extracting it from a protective capsule embedded in the brainstem of the troll that had shattered his awakening’s peace. Equius made a strangled noise, sneezing helplessly as Karkat’s overwhelming pheromones finally made their way over. He sat on the ground hastily rather than wasting time extricating a chair. Nepeta poured her own glass of water over his head.

Aradia’s cut her purr short, unfolding the paper as she leaned forward and smoothing it face-up on the table. As everyone craned over to look Terezi reached her cane forward, fumbling briefly before catching her coin in the crook of its draconic head. She kept its orientation steady, licking its surface before letting out a self-satisfied hum. 

“Oh. Oh, no,” Feferi said, picking up the paper. Creases riddled the surface of the revealed bill of sale, distorting the dead-eyed visage of Golese Riarra, the matesprit of Vitzii Pozoia, as he held up his own hex code on a placard in front of his bare chest.  His mop of hair was now absent, instead shaved in preparation for the helm. 

“What is it?” Terezi made a grabby hands for the paper, but Feferi instead passed it to Kanaya who flipped it over and lifted it to her nose. “Someone let me get my tongue on it. I smell–”

“Blood?” Kanaya said, disdain dripping off the single syllable even as her pupils dilated. “What gauche little pretender writes in blood these days?” She paused, scanning the paper. “Pretenders. How romantic.”

Yellow script clung to the paper like a scab, a cheery invitation in a near unintelligible surgeon’s scrawl: 

“Kuluya Juyure, Sollux Captor, Ophlia Davrot, Trisia Avarae, Vitzii Pozoia, you’re invited to the memorial dinner of Golese Riarra aboard our vessel, the IIC Reanimator, as he takes his place amongst the stars in service to our Glorious Empress! Dress Code: Black Tie. Coordinates carved into the seventh vertebrae. Plus ones encouraged. It’s not a corpse party without a crowd.

Forever your loyal compatriots,

The Surgeons

Underneath the shared title Rosmer Leywet had inscribed his swirling signature with the dull bronze blood of Zesaim Exeria, while her jagged signature was written in oxidized olive.

“What is it?” Terezi repeated, frustration mounting.

“A fucking trap,” Karkat said.

Sollux took a shuddering breath. “I’m not the key to the fleet. KK isn’t wrong, but this is an invitation to an interrogatormentor-grade cruiser and that is, especially one with room for…” He counted silently. “Ten. Ten guests.”

Terezi blinked, and then clapped her hands together in delight. “The trollcops ride again!”

Vriska let out a frustrated scream. “Trollcops! Aren’t! A! THIIIIIIING! Stop trying to make it a thing!”

“If Karkat and Aradia won’t give up on him, neither will I.” Terezi smiled again, soft this time with only a hint of teeth. “Welcome back, Sollux.”

[the-nosy-neighbor]

The Safe in Staff Only

In the framing, we talked about how The Playfellow Exhibition that is created has two sides:  the public facing side, and staff only.  The public facing side (which is impressive, given the work it took to create some of those items) shows us what the exhibit looks like, with a lot of art that we have seen before, but new items such as the toy phone, some records, and a Wally puppet. 

After some hints and a hunt for the password, we got to password-please, and then to staff-only, which had so much depth and information about what is happening behind the scenes at this exhibit.  Now, with the most recent update, things are making more sense.

In the Staff Only area, some of the art was moved from non-canon to canon with this update, including as above so below Wally, Wally in the late night talk show chair with massive legs, and the horror picture of Frank holding an envelope.

The Safe

This safe bothers me.  For one, we are given this safe, and emails detail how the exhibit staff are supposed to open this to get prizes that they should give out after the activity sheet is completed. The QA has asked for the password, but has not received it, so they direct the staff to take names and addresses and they will send them later. (That would have been a cool thing to do IRL, send out a few prizes randomly or chronicle an instance of the prize in another website.) So we find “crack-the-code” which leads to “password-please” which leads to “staff-only.”  However, we never got into the safe.  I don’t think the website is what is in the safe.  There are prizes in the safe and this could be my inner 80’s kid hankering after cereal prizes, but why would Clown go to the trouble to buy a safe 

and then to modify the safe, if we are only looking at it as a gateway to the staff-only website.  If we were opening the safe and finding the pictures inside, that would make sense, but it isn’t presented that way, in my opinion.  I need to know what is in the safe, and I don’t think it was solved to my satisfaction.

However, a few additional details:  There is a heart in blackish stuff on the safe.  Given where we have seen hearts, I would assume that this is Barnaby touching the safe, as he has a heart on his palm.  Wally’s is on the bottom of his shoe, so not impossible, but way less likely than a hand touch.  Otherwise, we have some typical black goo, but some that seems to have seeped out from the safe interior.

With seemingly some evidence that Barnaby has touched this item, it isn't too far fetched to believe that this safe came from wherever Barnaby is right now, or was, given we aren't sure if he is alive.

On the keypad, we have howdy, then barnaby, eddie, julie, wally, sally, frank, poppy, and home.  The “c” button is crossed out in red, the “0” is clumsily scribbled out and then there is a green arrow and circle to point to the “e” button.  So, all the neighbors are listed.  Who is crossed out?  (could it be Sunny? You guys know it's always going to be Sunny with me.)

So, there is no indication of what is in the safe. We can assume that it was sent on by W, as they are the contact.

Next, what we learn from Staff Only about the WHRP, and if the new information gives us more information about W or QA.

[pentupfortoolong]

Caught Red-Handed

The van slowed to a crawl as it approached the back lawn of the mansion.

"OK Felix, I'm going to take this door code the old broad's maid gave us and ensure our entry. I just need you to use one of the flashlights on the keypad to make it easier for me." "Sounds easy enough, Bruno." "Easy money, you mean!" "Provided the maid was telling you the truth." "If she wants her cut after we make the sale, she'd better be."

The two men put on face masks, lifted their hoods and made their way to the back door. With Felix's assistance, Bruno punched in the code and both made their way through the very spacious kitchen.

"Lucky for us that the library's just down the hall." "And if that luck holds, especially if the maid wasn't conning you." "Geez man, have some faith will ya?" "Look, I'm sorry, this whole thing has me nervous. I mean, Miss Cavendish never did wrong by us" "To YOU, maybe. She was sweet on you but a bitch to me." "Well maybe if you didn't antagonize her every chance you got! "Whatever. Look, do you want to afford a better life for you and your girl?" "Yes, but-" "Then shut up and let's go! I see the doorway to the library now." "Well pardon me, I've never done anything like this before!" "Oh, and you're implying I have?" "No, but you're extremely confident for something as big as this." "That's how I roll." "It's gonna get you into trouble one day." "Not today, my man." "Oh really now?"

The two men dropped their flashlights when they heard another voice call out from the darkness. Bruno fumbled for the light switch and he gulped. Sitting at a desk in the library was a middle-aged woman with brown hair- Penelope Cavendish, the owner of the mansion. She had a glass of brandy in her hand, and was as unperturbed with what was unfolding. "Gentlemen, how are we on this lovely night?" Felix spoke up first. "Uh, Miss Cavendish-" Bruno spoke over him. "OK, I'm guessing the maid ratted us out. Fine, you caught us red-handed." "It seems I have, though thank you for letting me know my maid broke my confidentiality. I'll have to have a talk with her once I've seen to you too." "M-miss Cavendish, whatever you want us to do to keep you from calling the cops, we'll do it and more." Bruno glared at Felix after that attempt at begging. "Dude, I've got this." Bruno produced a handgun from his hood pocket. "BRUNO, WHAT THE FUCK?! We're not shooting anyone!" "We don't HAVE to if moneybags here gives us what we came for!" "If you think I have a vault with enough money to start my own nation on these premises, you're sadly mistaken, young Bruno." "But I know what you DO have." "Well, it doesn't matter. Your associate's suggestion, however, I intend to take him up on that." "Fuck you mean?" "Language, young man." "I think you forget who's holding the gun." "I don't need a gun to deal with the likes of you." Penelope waved her hand and the gun flew out of Bruno's hand. Both he and Felix were frozen in place, not sure of what was happening." "H-how did you do that?!" "You wouldn't believe me if I said I'm a witch, but that's the truth of it." "Like an actual witch?" "Yes, young Felix. Sure I don't have the green skin and cackle like the stereotypes, but the entertainment industry tends to use shorthand." "Cut the crap, lady. If you're a witch, why don't you use magic to protect your place better?" "You think I want to always be using magic and energy when technology and basic expectation can do the job? Besides, this kills two birds with one stone." "What do you mean?" Penelope ignored Bruno's question, contemplating the two men in front of her. "OK, I've made my mind up. I will not call the police on you." "Oh, thank you Miss Cavendish, I'm so sor-" "I'm not finished. Now, although you both broke into my home with the intent to steal, I know that one of you doesn't have the heart of a criminal, a brute and…" She paused to glare at Bruno. "The other has a serious attitude problem." "Fuck you!" Penelope used her magic to slap Bruno, to remind him of who was in charge here. "So, one of you is going to get punished more severely than the other. And I think you both know who's getting the short end of the straw in that regard." "OK, I've had enough of-" Penelope snapped her fingers. Bruno shut up immediately as green energy surrounded him. His body contorting, his clothes changing. His hair changed to red, his muscles disappearing as he took on a more petite figure, gaining breasts at the same time. His work boots replaced with heels, his hood replaced with a maid's uniform and apron.

The gun that had been discarded had flown back into his hand and changed into a feather duster. "What- I'm a chick now?!" "Bruno, you look like a maid!" "Because he IS a maid, my dear. Young Gretchen here will take the place of my soon to be ex-maid, for a time of my choosing." "You fucking bitch, change me back right this-" "Or what, Gretchen? You'll dust me to death?" Penelope used her magic to have Bruno stand still again. He was capable of speaking, but he decided for the moment to keep his mouth shut. Penelope gently moved Gretchen to face Felix. "Now Felix, I like you, I really do. You were a nice young man when I had you here earlier this week, and I know your intent tonight was for someone other than you." "M-miss Cavendish, what do you mean 'were a nice young man'?" Penelope chuckled. "Well Felix, given what you just saw, I think you know what's about to happen. Like I said, you still need to be punished." Penelope snapped her fingers again. The green energy that had engulfed Bruno had returned to do a similar job to Felix. By the time they were done, Felix was now Whitney, a leggy blonde. Gretchen stood with her jaw agape. "No fair, why is HE a hot blonde?!" "Gretchen, as I have to keep reminding you, Whitney's punishment is less severe because she's not a cretin like you." Gretchen stared daggers at Penelope, who had returned her attention to Whitney. "How do you feel, Whitney?" Whitney just stared in shock at her new form. Gorgeous red dress, stunning blonde hair, smooth legs. She could hardly believe it.

"I-I look gorgeous!" "Felix, you liking this? I didn't think you wanted to be a girl!" "I-I mean, I never thought about it but…" Whitney paused to admire herself in a nearby mirror. "I'm NOT going to deny that I'm hot." Penelope smiled. "Now Whitney, come sit and join me. I have a lovely young man I'd like to fix you up with, he's the son of a businessman I've been trying to merge companies with." "Oh-oh Miss Cavendish, there must be some mistake. I'm not gay and I have a girlfriend." "You can be whatever you wish to be Whitney, but you don't have a girlfriend." "I-I don't?" "No, that's why you're here. I'm going to play matchmaker for you." "Oh, well that's very nice of you!" "Felix, she's messing with your mind!" "I'm Whitney now and I'm going to help Miss Cavendish, I owe her that much for trying to rob her. Maybe if you weren't always so arrogant, you'd be more amenable, and Miss Cavendish would be setting YOU up with someone too." "I don't believe what I'm hearing righ-' "Gretchen, the bottle's empty. Please go to the kitchen and bring another brandy, and a glass for my lovely companion here." "Fuck this, I'm out. Stay here if you want "Whitney", but I'm g-" Penelope waved her hand and changed Gretchen's feet to concrete. Gretchen fell to the floor in shock before her ability to walk was restored. "You've seen what I can do, Gretchen. So I think you know what the price for future disobedience is." "Y-y-yes." "Yes what?" "Yes, Miss Cavendish." "And what is your name?" "G-Gretchen, Miss Cavendish. And you're entertaining Whitney." "Good. And part of entertaining is refreshments, so…' "Right away, Miss Cavendish!" Gretchen meekly stumbled away to the kitchen. Penelope turned to Whitney. "Now, let me tell you about this young man…"

***

What neither of them knew was that Penelope never intended to turn them back, and the magic ensured that over time, their memories would be altered. Penelope really did like Felix, but she knew he'd be happier this way, which she confirmed one year to the day after the transformation, when she used her magic to let Felix come back out. Despite not fully knowing what was going on, Felix admitted he was much happier as he was, and only asked to keep full control with the new memories, which Penelope was more than happy to do. Whitney would go on to marry the young man Penelope set her up with, and had three daughters. She would look to Penelope like a mother figure and Penelope adored Whitney in return.

When it came to Gretchen, Penelope had her work cut out for her.

Even as the memories were pushed down and Gretchen took over completely, Penelope could still sense traces of Bruno. So, when it was Bruno's turn to come back to the surface, he exploded with rage. Penelope sighed and waved her hand. The changes were a little smaller this time. Her hair was a different shade of red, her body filled out more and she felt… older. Like she had been aged up 20 or so years. She had gone from a strapping young buck of 24 to a maid of 24 and now a maid of 45.

And for the next couple days, all Bruno could do was slowly wander around, doing his maid work until Gretchen resumed control, something he welcomed as he knew he was never going home a man again.

[gabriellerudessa]

Compass (Norm Maclean x OC) - Part XV

“What about just cutting the fabric?”

“Can’t go around destroying my clothes, Norm-boy. It’s hard to come by any that fit me.” Marigold shook her head, then grinned, the extra trouble one, even if somewhat forced. “But if you really want to and ask nicely, I’m pretty sure we can fix something up.”

AO3 | Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX | Part X | Part XI | Part XII | Part XIII | Part XIV | Part XVI | Part XVII | Part XVIII | Part XIX | Part XX | Part XXI (Smut) | Part XXII | Part XXIII | Part XXIV | Part XXV | Part XXVI (Smut) | Part XXVII | Part XXVIII | Part XXIX | Part XXX | Part XXXI | Part XXXII | Part XXXIII | Part XXXIV (Smut) | Part XXXV | Part XXXVI (END)

PLAYLIST ON YOUTUBE

Words: 3.319

Warnings: Gunshot wounds being taken care of. Spicy thoughts lol

XV

Marigold went first, and he followed close behind. On the inside, beside the door, there was a light switch; he flipped it, and lights overhead lighted up, showing a narrow straight hall, a metal staircase at the end of it, another terminal close to the door, and an intercom. The only sounds were their breathings and the electricity buzzing through the lamps and terminal.

They explored cautiously, but it soon became obvious there wasn’t much to explore. The place was empty, no people or animals, most of the doors boarded off with metal or wood, windows blocked off with wood and metal. Only narrow slivers of space between the pieces let in some of the fading light of day.

In the ground floor, only three rooms were accessible: a kitchen, with a wood stove, an old counter with a functioning sink, a cabinet, and a wood table that should already be ancient when the bombs hit, solid and stable, with a group of mismatched chairs around it; a living room, with one sofa and armchair carefully positioned around a moth-eaten rug, and a bookshelf, some of the shelves containing pre-war books and an assortment of decorations; and what they a called “storage-room”, full of boxes and lockers and tool cabinets, carefully organized from their brief inspection.

The stairs led to a longer hallway, but similarly to the ground floor, only three weren’t blocked off: a bathroom, the shower head rusted off and broken on the ground, but overall in working condition; a bedroom, with a double bed with bedsheets and covers properly made, a drawer and a tall wooden wardrobe; and what Marigold had called a “chem-lab”, with a desk with another terminal and a chair, and another wood table, this one full of lab equipment. It seemed to have everything he would need to make Goose’s recipes, if he had the time.

All the lamps seemed to be in working order, no lack of electricity, from wherever it was coming from, and his Pip-Boy’s Geiger count accused only the barest radiation on the water when they opened the taps. It was at a level that, according to Goose’s notes, they should be able to solve through filtering and boiling, more related to radioactive sediments than to the water itself.

The place was empty and dusty, paint peeling from the walls, the linoleum floor warping at some spots… But besides those expected signs, otherwise the place was spotless, in the sense that everything had its proper place, and lived in, with things scattered around indicating that someone had, at some point, lived there.

Someone had arrived at that store, closed what they couldn’t use, modified the rooms as possible, turned it all into a home… And then never returned.

While Norm was grateful, because they needed a place for the night, he couldn’t help but feel a pinch of sadness, trying to imagine what had kept its inhabitant from returning.

They ended back at the metal door, slightly open like they had left.

“See if there’s a stimpak here, I’ll lock the outside terminal.” Norm threw the bag at Marigold, stepping into the cramped hall, keeping the metal door open.

His fingers flew through the keypads as he put a new password in it, making sure it was the same level of security he had broken – it had given him trouble and he was certain it would give anyone else even more. Hopefully it would keep them safe throughout the night.

Marigold showed him three stimpaks and one med-x as he came back inside and closed the door.

“There’s also some radaway, food and water.” There was clear relief in her voice, her shoulders relaxing a little.

“Good. Where’s the better place to take care of your leg?” Norm asked while making sure the door was properly fitted in the frame, then used the inside terminal to lock it.

Another grind and muffled bang; he tried to pull at the handle, but it didn’t budge. Good.

“The kitchen. It has a sink, space, and places to sit.”

Marigold started limping away, and Norm followed, eyes glued to the injured leg.

The flow of blood had diminished, but not stopped, and he was pretty sure it was worse after her stunt of going up and down the stairs – he had tried to convince her to stay on the ground floor, but the woman was damn stubborn and refused to let him go up alone. At least they had stimpaks now.

Marigold was leaning against the table when he entered the kitchen, backpack, bag and gun above it, stimpaks and med-x close by. She kept the injured leg extended, trying to unbuckle the bag-belt from around her thighs, fingers sliding because of the blood.

Norm sighed and approached.

“Could you please let me help, for God’s sake?” he pushed her hands away and she let him, instead holding the buckle around her hips.

He unbuckled the uninjured side with fast movements, but the buckle on the injured leg was slippery with blood, and he needed to go more carefully, hearing Marigold curse and hiss under her breath as it became loose around her leg. She unbuckled the last piece and left the bag-belt above the table.

“I’ll take off the tourniquet now.” Norm touched the leather, looking at Marigold’s mismatched eyes.

She breathed deeply and nodded.

The coat’s belt was off in an instant, and blood poured out. He raised his eyes at Marigold again, and she had her teeth gritted, hands gripping the edge of the table tight enough that her knuckles paled.

Norm looked at the torn fabric, and noticed Marigold doing the same. It covered the wound on the outside of her thigh, and at most he saw how the fabric bent inside into the wound, some spots of blood already starting to dry.

“Fuck. Taking the pants and the bullet off will hurt.” She slumped in place.

“Can’t we just jab a stimpak in the wound?”

“If it was some common shotgun ammo, sure, but I can feel there’s something inside, that’s not normal with shotguns. Since some people put teeth and other nasty things in their ammo, it’s better we take whatever the bullet is off before we use the stimpak. And Goose would burst from the ground if I did any of this while there’s fabric in the wound.” Marigold’s hands dropped to the button and zipper of her pants.

Teeth as bullets? Wastelanders were insane.

“What about just cutting the fabric?”

“Can’t go around destroying my clothes, Norm-boy. It’s hard to come by any that fit me.” Marigold shook her head, then grinned, the extra trouble one, even if somewhat forced. “But if you really want to and ask nicely, I’m pretty sure we can fix something up.”

Norm spluttered at that, feeling the heat rising through his neck as her words sunk in – was she really suggesting what he thought she was while bleeding and in pain? – and Marigold winked even while opening her pants and pushing it down her hips, faded black panties becoming visible.

He dry-swallowed, looking away and feeling like a moron – for God’s sake, he wasn’t a virgin, and he had been ogling her the whole day with permission, what was his problem?

Marigold hissed as the fabric reached her thighs and started pulling at the wound, and Norm jumped ahead to help pull it down past it, doing his best to focus only on helping her. The pants stopped at her boots, and Marigold pulled herself sitting over the table with a sigh of relief.

The wound was still bleeding, with a central bullet hole, deep and gaping, with smaller wounds scattered around it, more burns than perforations, becoming sparser the farther they became from the central one.

His eyes wandered a little; the exposed skin, what wasn’t covered in blood, was slightly lighter than her face, but not by much, still golden-brown; multiple scars covered her thighs, lines and circles crisscrossing the skin, and those helped sober him up.

How many of those were a result of having to be a Black Widow?

He didn’t know. He didn’t know if he wanted to know. Too much pain so close to such a sensitive place… It was wrong.

---------

“I’ll get the things from your backpack.” Norm said quietly, and Marigold helped him, doing her best to not move her leg too much.

The wound was better than she had feared, worse than she had hoped. Thank God there were stimpaks in the bag, there would be no need for stitches and be too careful. And with them taking care of the wound so soon, one stimpak should be enough to heal the insides to a point where she didn’t need to worry about wound reopening and her bleeding out, or having deep infection – sepsis, as Goose called.

She also had found paper bounties, including hers, but since they were as safe as they could be, it could wait. Besides, the Bounty Hunter was dead, so that problem had been taken care of, at least for the time.

Marigold found her old pair of tweezers in an internal side pocket as Norm spread and organized the supplies close to her leg. The tweezers were rolled in a piece of fabric, too long to fit in the medicine tin.

“Spritz the vodka here and in my hands, please.”

“You’re not thinking of-”

“Taking it off myself? Yes I’m.” His eyebrows frowned and Marigold kept going before he could protest. “Sorry, Norm-boy, but I have more experience with this. I’ll still definitely accept any other help.”

Norm pressed his lips in a line, still frowning, taking the perfume bottle from the medicine tin and doing as she had asked, the smell of vodka spreading around them.

“How much will this hurt?” He asked, shining his Pip-Boy’s flashlight into the wound without her asking.

“Thanks for the light and… Lots, Norm-boy, but it’ll be worse if I get an infection, so…”

She shrugged, and jabbed the closed tweezers inside.

---------

Marigold cursed the whole three minutes it took for her to find the bullet and pull it out; it was lodged deep, blood coming out with her prodding the wound. Only the fact that she was feeling it, added to the fear of it being something that would cause a worse reaction if not taken out, kept her going.

Her fingers trembled as she managed to pull the tweezers out, the bullet held at the tip, and both almost fell to the table. Norm’s hands were there to take them from her, carefully.

“Fuck.” She mumbled a last time through gritted teeth, hands splayed against the wood as she leaned back, breathing deeply, eyes tightly closed. The pain had dulled, now that there wasn’t something inside flaring it when she least expected.

“Damn.”

“What?” She opened one eye, and noticed Norm looking at the bullet, hands stained with blood.

“It’s a tooth.”

“Told you.”

Norm shook his head, a small smile even while frowning, and put the tooth down.

“Now we can use the stimpak, right?”

“Yes we can.” She extended her hand, but Norm caught the stimpak before her, and Marigold raised an eyebrow at him.

“This I know how to do.”

She shrugged with a grin, leaning back again, just watching him.

“Be my guest, Norm-boy.”

He turned off the flashlight and approached, color appearing along his neck as he put a hand close to the wound – she couldn’t help but notice how his skin felt against hers, in general soft, even while she felt some smaller callouses; it was a good feeling, after all the pain –, pressuring to keep her leg in place. Carefully, he aligned the needle’s stimpak close to the wound and pressed, the needle sinking into the skin with little resistance.

Marigold clenched her teeth at the sensation, of the needle and whatever drugs cocktail inside of it spreading throughout her flesh.

The wound started burning from inside out, and as they watched, it knit together, the flow of blood diminished to a small trickle. The smaller burns around remained and there was still a small hole, but she didn’t felt that burning, spread pain anymore. And if the tooth had left any bacteria or whatever inside, the stimpak should’ve taken care of it.

Norm put the empty stimpak down and started cleaning the blood and the wound, before spritzing the vodka and spreading some healing powder over it.

“Do you have bandages or whatever? I don’t think it will be good to walk around with it all exposed, it’s worse than the one on your arm.”

Marigold had to stop and think for a bit, then pulled her backpack over and breathed in relief at finding the squares of clean bandages in a small plastic Ziploc bag – Goose always cleaned some and kept any bandages she cleaned and sterilized in them – and a roll of duct tape.

“Here.” She handed him the duct tape and took one square of bandage out, laying it over the wound.

“Duct tape? Really? This will take your skin off too.” Norm complained, even while still using the scissors to cut it.

“It’s what we have, Norm-boy.” She grinned and shrugged as he taped the bandage in place.

“I think that’s it. How you’re feeling?”

He stepped back and Marigold bent and extended her leg in test; she only felt the skin pull a little, nothing from the muscles deep inside.

“Tired, but overall just feeling the skin. Internal damage totally taken care of.”

Norm’s shoulders relaxed and he leaned against the table besides her, letting out a relieved sigh of his own.

Marigold leaned forward, elbows on her knees, and pressed her shoulder against his.

“Thanks, Norm-boy.”

He pressed right back.

“You’re welcome.”

There was a loud thunder, followed by a dull sound outside that she easily recognized: the sharp, fast wind of a rad-storm against metal and wood, whistling through any space it could find, but Norm’s Geiger count remained in silence, so the place was well isolated, thankfully.

It was a sound she had heard a lot growing up, and not always with a Geiger count giving her reassurance things were safe.

Norm tensed beside her, head bolting upright towards the sound.

“What’s that?”

“The rad-storm. Let’s hope it move away soon.”

---------

Rad-storm. He had been so focused on Marigold’s wound he had forgot those clouds in the horizon. He also hadn’t been expecting that sound, so… All-encompassing. It was clear it would be a noisy night.

“How long until it does?” He looked back at her, and Marigold was loosening her boots. “What… Are you doing?”

“I need to clean and mend my pants, can’t do it while using them.” She shrugged, taking one pant out and putting on the boot again. “And it really depends. It’s the first rad-storm of the season, so they can last at least a few day, but sometimes we’re lucky and they move fast.”

Norm nodded, dry-swallowing as she finished taking off her pants and dropped from the table, and really he should stop looking, she had said he was welcome to look while she had pants on, Norm, for God’s sake…

Marigold got hold of his chin and turned his head towards her face. Before he processed it, he felt her lips on his cheek, close to the corner of his lips.

“What-?” his neck, his face, everything was burning, and his heart beat so fast inside his chest that he thought he was about to pass out.

“For pulling me, that shot would’ve hit some big artery otherwise.” She interrupted him, turning his face and kissing his other cheek. “And this one for getting the door open.”

Marigold let go of his chin and stepped back, giving him the extra trouble grin before winking. Norm opened and closed his mouth, no sound leaving him, and something in her face twisted in a way that he only could call “smug”.

“I’ll use the bathroom upstairs to take care of these.” She raised the hand holding the bloodied pants and got hold of the medicine tin with the other.

“… All right.” He managed to say, and with that Marigold left the kitchen, limping a little, not a drop of shyness or whatever as she did it.

Half of him couldn’t believe how better her legs and behind looked without pants, the shift of skin and muscle as she moved making his mouth dry. Norm heard her steps fading up the metal stairs, a door closing, and slumped against the table.

“Holy… Damn.”

---------

Norm forced himself to take everything bloodied to the kitchen sink, methodically taking his Pip-Boy off before cleaning it all under the running water, then carefully cleaning all traces of blood from under his nails. Occasionally a thunder echoed, making him jump and curse – the holomovies and such in the Vault really failed in showing how loud they could be. And… Was that really how normal storms sounded, or just the radioactive ones?

His brain had tried to convince him to go up the stairs, knock on the bathroom door and ask if she wanted to have sex, determined that having her legs around his head would solve half of his problems – especially the ones bellow his belt, damn it. And if he hadn’t heard the door closing, he probably would’ve heard those horny thoughts.

But he had heard, and she had just gotten shot, and the both of them hadn’t even eaten yet, so really those thoughts weren’t the best judges of timing – they never were that good for starters, but they clearly had devolved in the surface.

The time it took to get everything clean was enough to get himself under control, for his problem to go away, and make his stomach rumble, just giving strength to his argument of “they hadn’t even eaten yet”.

As he stored everything of hers into the backpack, he found two cans; both had tapes to the bottom with “ant” written, and a small, simplified drawing of an ant besides it. The forks were a little harder to find, but he managed, ascending the stairs while holding both items.

He stopped in front of the bathroom door. He could hear her inside, humming an old familiar song, and unconsciously he tapped a finger against the can to the same rhythm – “’cause babe it’s just you”, the words softly reached him, more humming following them, and he shook his head with a small smile.

Good to see that some pre-war music had survived.

“Marigold!” He called, and the humming immediately stopped.

“Yeah?!”

“I brought a can of food for you! Ant!”

“Righty!” The door opened, exposing Marigold, still pant-less and with leather bracers and fingerless gloves missing, the sleeves of her shirt folded to her elbows, pants in the sink. “Thanks, Norm-boy.” She smiled as he handed her a can and a fork, digging in with the same gusto he had come to expect.

He forced himself to keep his eyes on her face instead of sneaking a look – all his talk of “timing” would flee his mind the moment he did it, he was sure of it.

“Is the blood coming off?”

“Most of it, yeah, but it’ll probably be forever stained.” She shrugged, leaning against the doorway.

“Need any help with it?”

“Nah, I have it under control. But tell you what, I was remembering that other terminal we saw. Think you can take a look, see if there’s any chance of anyone else appearing or whatever? I know you said the door hadn’t been opened in years, but… Just to make sure.”

“I’ll get right into it.” Norm nodded at her, a step already in the direction of the so-called chem-lab, glad to have something to do and distract his head from her.

[somedaylazysomeday]

Misbehaving - Part Three

Commander Cody x fem!reader (no use of y/n)

Rating: Explicit, NC-17, lemon, etc. Minors DNI!

Word Count: 3,800

Warnings: angst, slight dubcon in an established relationship, spanking, underprepared piv, rough sex, use of a safeword, hurt/comfort, slight AU

Previous | Next | Masterlist

---

Cody was an even-tempered man.

You supposed that was part of what made him such an excellent commander. A marshal commander, at that - one of the highest-ranked men in the entirety of the Grand Army of the Republic. Everyone trusted Cody to do his job, from his generals to the men who served under his command. He made the right choices, that was as indisputable as the position of the planets in the galaxy. You had never seen Cody less than professional.

Until you did.

You hadn’t expected him to come to you on Coruscant when he did. He couldn’t always tell you exactly when he was going to be on-planet for security reasons, but he tried to keep you reasonably in the loop. A vague idea of when to expect him was better than knowing nothing at all, and you loved that he did that for you.

You had been shocked to answer a firm knock on your apartment door and find your boyfriend standing on the other side. The circumstances surrounding his presence were strange, something about being called away on urgent business that ended up being less urgent than the communications had insinuated. In fact, Cody confided, he couldn’t understand why he had needed to accompany General Kenobi back to Coruscant at all. The Jedi was left running circles around the Senate with his old padawan while Cody waited to receive updates on the total planetary takeover the 212th and 501st were attempting.

In any case, you were happy to have him around. Without the presence of his men on-planet, Cody had taken to staying with you most of the time rather than sleeping in the barracks. For nearly a week, you had lived together, half-pretending that Cody was a normal military man stationed on Coruscant and that he wouldn’t be shipped out again with only hours of notice to fight in the galaxy-wide war.

You slept by Cody’s side, kissed him goodbye in the morning before you both left for work, then you came home to share a meal together. It was bliss, especially since his distraction at the odd mission hadn’t extended to the bedroom. No, Cody was hyper-focused when it came to your pleasure, no matter what else was going on. He was always attentive to your needs, no matter what they were.

Which was why you were surprised when he didn’t come home one night.

Part of you wondered if he had been called back to the front with no notice at all… but that didn’t make sense. Cody had always managed to get some kind of message to you, even if it was something small and subtle, or originating from an unfamiliar comlink, or passed through his men.

There had been nothing of the sort this time. He just… hadn’t come back.

You were a frazzled mess by the time the sky had darkened. Should you contact Cody’s general? Technically speaking, Cody wasn’t supposed to be in a relationship and could get in trouble for it, but General Kenobi hadn’t seemed like the type to care overly much about the particulars of GAR regulations. And at least you would know if Cody was okay. 

It seemed that you had reached for your comlink a dozen times and pulled your hand away a dozen more when you heard the noise of someone tapping at the keypad outside of your door. 

You had surged to your feet by the time the door slid open to reveal Cody. Your handsome commander stepped inside, his face blank and his motions sharp as he entered the apartment. He didn’t speak, and you caught the way he was clutching his helmet so hard that his knuckles were pale.

“Cody?” you asked gently. “I was worried when you didn’t come home. Are you- Is everything okay?”

Cody’s face turned toward you, his eyes lacking all of their familiar warmth. That was the least concerning part, though - you were stricken by the way he didn’t seem to react at the sight of you, like you were some stranger he had never met and never would.

“Cody?” you asked again, stepping a bit closer but stopping when you noticed the speed of his breathing.

His gaze caught on yours. That horrifying blankness faded slightly, but his eyes were bright - too bright. There was an edge of something in them, something that looked like desperation and the beginnings of hopelessness.

“Cody, talk to me,” you pled. “What happened?”

Cody shook his head slowly, but the motion didn’t stop. “I can’t- can’t talk about it. I need you. I need… to be in control.”

You nodded immediately. “Whatever you need, just tell me.”

“Strip,” he ordered. “Then get on your bed, hands and knees.”

“Yes, Commander,” you replied, more worried than ever when that failed to elicit a response from him. Still, you did as he said, retreating to your bedroom while you fumbled at the buttons of your shirt and pushed your comfortable lounge pants away. When you had made it to your room, a trail of clothing in your wake, you climbed onto the bed and balanced on your hands and knees before you glanced back.

Cody was standing just inside the door, watching you intently. He was still wearing his full, orange-painted armor, but his hands dropped to undo the piece of plastoid that covered his crotch. It was the only piece he removed before he stepped to the edge of the bed behind you. 

“Down to your elbows,” he told you, voice still strange.

You obeyed, widening your knees to grant him better access to your core. Unfortunately, you weren’t anywhere near ready for him. You hadn’t exactly been thinking sexy thoughts that evening and it was only worse with your lover there. This mood was something you had never seen from Cody and you were too worried to be aroused.

His hand cupped your mound, thumb stroking over the delicate lips of your sex. You shivered at the feeling of his warm hand surrounding such a sensitive area and made a small sound of pleasure when the pad of his thumb pushed closer to press against your clit.

Your body began to relax, blooming for the man you loved, but slower than you would have liked. Cody apparently felt the same way, because his other hand cracked solidly against your ass cheek. You gave a surprised grunt at the unexpected contact. Cody always liked to warn you when you were getting a spanking because he wanted to be thanked.

As soon as the thought crossed your mind, Cody sighed. “Forgetting to say ‘thank you’? You’ve already lost your manners. That’ll be five more and a pussy smack.”

That seemed like a steep punishment considering he had forgotten to warn you. “But-”

“We could make it ten and two if you’d rather,” Cody said sharply.

“No, sir, I’m sorry,” you apologized.

“Good girl. Count.”

And that was the only signal he gave you before his tensed palm rained down again and again on your cheeks. You kept up with the first two or three, but got lost in the ‘thank you, sir’s and fell behind. Your efforts cut off entirely when Cody’s palm connected between your spread legs with a wet smack, leaving you squealing and trying not to writhe.

There was a typical swell of sensation with a spanking. You had learned that much over the course of your relationship with Cody. The collision between hand and cheek left your skin, muscle, and fat rippling in the wake - a process that was mirrored by the way the sensations rippled over your skin. Spankings built heat slowly, spreading until it eventually gathered in your core. A properly delivered spanking left you trembling, wet, and begging for your commander.

A spank to your pussy was different. Instead of allowing the sensation to build, it was forced into your nerves, direct and immediate in a way that was overwhelming more often than not. It was meant to be overwhelming, the most pleasurable punishment Cody could deliver… and the most punishing pleasure.

The five spanks hadn’t been enough to build a slow heat in your core, but the feeling of his hand clapping against the lips of your sex pushed the intensity immediately to a level you weren’t quite ready for. Instead of scraping together your shuddering brain cells enough to thank Cody as he wanted, you were left gaping blankly at your pillows as you tried to process the sheer amount of sensation stemming from that single action.

“Ten and two it is,” Cody bit out.

Another five spanks hit your heated ass, the tenth connecting with a sharp noise so loud that your neighbors probably heard it. You got to nine, broke off to fight back a grunt at the hit, and made it halfway through counting the tenth when he spanked the rapidly swelling lips of your sex firmly and you cut off to catch your breath.

“Still not counting?”

You frowned, the expression going unseen since it was aimed at the mattress rather than at Cody. “Sorry, but-”

“But?” Cody repeated, voice filled with mocking. “But you’re not trying hard enough. No excuses, nothing to hide behind. You don’t have to count these last five, but you’ll feel them.”

“Wait-”

The first spank took your breath away. Cody was a strong man. He claimed it was because he had been engineered that way, but he also spent time in the gym, working to increase that strength even further. He had never used that strength against you, though, especially not in the bedroom.

This probably wasn’t his full strength, either, but it was enough to push more weight onto your elbows, rocking you forward and back until your cheek was planted against your bedspread. The last hit was hard enough that your knees briefly left the bed, your body suspended between your elbows and the force of his hand against your ass.

“Easy enough without the counting, huh?” Cody asked. “And that seems to have done the trick.” Two of his fingers pushed into your wet core with no warning, forcing your breath out in a surprised huff.

You were adventurous in the bedroom, especially with Cody there to encourage and support you. Even so, this was riding the line of what you considered acceptable, but that last set of spanks had filled your mind with a pleasantly buzzing numbness. You were wet, you could feel that much, and what he was doing felt good, if a little overwhelming.

As Cody’s fingers scissored in your heat, you struggled to ride the pleasure without letting it crash over you and destroy you in its wake. Those sensations grew tenfold as he began to pull his fingers out and plunge them steadily back into you. It didn’t feel bad, even if it was starting to not feel entirely good. You were certainly wet enough to allow him inside, but you were concerned about non-physical parts of this.

You lifted yourself back up onto your elbows, preparing to glance back at Cody and ask him to move a little slower, but the question died in your throat as Cody gripped your hips and sank his length inside of you. 

Over your strangled cry, you heard Cody give a hoarse grunt of his own. He didn’t give you a moment to breathe, moving immediately into a punishing rhythm that left you gasping and trying to move enough to make the angle something less sharp and stabbing.

“Cody-”

“Commander,” he reminded sharply, slamming his hips into yours.

Impossibly, his pace picked up from there, knocking you from your precarious perch on your elbows until your cheek was pressed against the bedspread once more. The fog from the spanking was starting to fade and you were growing steadily more aware that this session wasn’t working for you. You liked rough sex, but you had to build up to it and you just… hadn’t. It was too much, too sudden, and you needed him to slow things down.

“Cody,” you said, trying to sound more firm even through the way his pounding impacted the flow of your speech.

Cody snarled behind you. “Commander.”

He reached forward, gripping your wrists. For a moment, you relaxed, thinking he was going to drape himself over you, your fingers laced together while he breathed praises in your ear. That was one of his favorite things to do at the end of a rough session, and you always enjoyed it. Somehow, that made you feel just as treasured than you did when he used his mouth on you or spent hours teasing you to an overwhelming climax.

That beat of relaxation on your part was enough for him to lever your arms behind you, press them against your back with one hand, and pull your hips back toward him with the other hand. The pressure on the small of your back pushed your ass up further, letting Cody’s hard cock thrust even deeper and your mouth fell open into a shocked gasp.

“Cody - Red.”

The time it took Cody to process the safeword was long enough that he had driven himself back into you and your inner muscles spasmed around his length. It was not a pleasant feeling and you gave a small, pained grunt.

Cody froze there for an impossibly long moment and you could almost feel the way he was processing the best way to proceed from there. He released your arms and you immediately brought them back in front of yourself, trying to push up off the mattress.

One hand pressed against your ass and you flinched - something you were sure he noticed with how his touch lightened even further. “I’m going to pull out of you now, okay?”

You nodded.

The thick slide of Cody’s cock through your folds was one you had always enjoyed, but it was thoroughly unpleasant now. You shuddered when his swollen head finally slipped out of you, trying again to lever yourself up with shaking arms.

Cody’s hand pressed against your hip. “No, stay there.”

You were reluctant to follow any more orders, but your nerves were still buzzing with overwhelmed input, so you did. The only movement you made was to shift so you were lying on one side. You let your eyes close, mostly to disguise the tears that were welling in the aftermath of the adrenaline rush.

“Mesh’la,” Cody said from the doorway an instant after a tear had rolled down your cheek anyway. You opened your eyes to see him looking stricken, that haunted desperation almost solid in his eyes again. He was holding a glass of water, but didn’t make any move to get closer to you. “Are you-? I’m sorry. Kriff, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s-” You cut yourself off to fight back the pinched sound in your own voice. You wouldn’t do either of you any favors if you started crying in earnest. At the same time, you wouldn’t do either of you the injustice of lying and telling him it was fine.

“What can I do?” Cody asked, his voice low and soothing. Even his body language was soft and nonthreatening, his broad shoulders curling inward in a way that made him look smaller than you had ever seen him, even with the armor he was still wearing.

“Water,” you replied simply. 

He started for the bed eagerly, but checked his pace before he got too close. By the time he reached out to hand you the glass, he had been moving at a pace that was slow enough to be nonthreatening. You took the glass without any of your earlier hesitation. You had cooled down slightly and knew Cody wasn’t going to do anything to hurt you. Also, you were incredibly thirsty.

In only moments, you had drained the glass and set it gently on the bedside table. Cody was watching you, scarcely hidden fear in the depths of his eyes. 

“Cody,” you murmured, your voice hiccuping awkwardly between one syllable and the next.

“What is it, cyare?” he asked tenderly. “What can I do for you? Anything you need.”

“Take off your armor and hold me?” you requested. 

After such a short hesitation that you barely noticed it, Cody started to work at the plastoid plates, stripping them away and setting them gently but haphazardly on the floor of your room. He was clearly aiming for softness of sound rather than neatness - a rarity for the fastidious commander.

When he had finished and was dressed only in his black body glove, he hesitated again at the edge of the mattress, but when you held out a hand in his direction, he took it immediately. Cody had laced his fingers through yours by the time he settled on the bed beside you, reaching slowly with his free hand as he wrapped it around you. 

Cody wanted to talk. That much was clear as his breathing paused and caught occasionally, only to be released in a heavy sigh. He never spoke, but it didn’t take long for you to realize that he was carefully tracing every mark he had left on your skin:

The tender flesh of your forearms where he had anchored them behind your back.

The finger-shaped bruises rapidly forming on your hips from where he had held you.

The aching fullness of your cheeks from where he had delivered those brutal spanks.

“I’m so sorry, mesh’la,” he murmured over and over until your heart was aching at least as much as anything else.

“I won’t lie and say it’s okay, Cody,” you told him, feeling momentarily worse when his breath whooshed out like you had hit him. “But what matters more is that you stopped when I asked you to. That’s the most important thing.”

Cody relaxed slightly against you, but tensed again when you amended, “Well, the second most important thing.”

“What’s the most important?” he asked, voice careful. 

“Are you okay?” you returned, your suspicions confirmed when his gaze skated away immediately and decisively. “You never come on that strong, especially without building up to it first. You told me you needed control and I told you I could handle it. I couldn’t and I’m sorry about that.”

Cody was shaking his head before you even finished speaking. “I should never have given you the option, little one. I knew better and I did it anyway. There’s nothing you need to be sorry about.”

You hummed skeptically. “But can I ask why? I’ve never- never seen you like that.”

Cody’s warm body shuddered against you and your eyes whipped to scan his face. Sure enough, it had crumpled in a way you had never seen before as tears streamed down his face in pained catharsis. In a moment, he had gone from your stoic commander to a broken man aged beyond his years. Your heart shattered for him.

You sat up and wrapped yourself around him before you could even register that you were planning to move. Cody - strong, stubborn Cody - let you tuck his head against your chest while you rocked him back and forth, murmuring soothing nonsense until the hot tears stopped flowing and he was left shaking like a man freezing to death in your arms.

“My- my men,” he gasped eventually, rushing the words out between painful shudders. “I left them and- and they-” 

He broke off, making a sound of pain so profound that it sounded harsher than anything a human should be capable of producing. Your arms tightened around him just as his did the same around you.

“Shh, shhhh…” you told him. “If it’s too much, you don’t have to tell me anything.”

Cody shook his head. In choppy bits and strangled pieces, he told you what had happened, outlining a tragedy on a far-off planet called Umbara. Even as he offered the explanation, you got the picture of a Jedi doing the unthinkable, men forced into a horrible position, and a universe-shaking betrayal of trust and the chain of command, along with a disregard for lives so reckless that you were trembling just as hard as Cody.

“I understand now,” you assured the man you loved. “You needed to feel in-control of something. It’s okay, Cody.”

“It isn’t,” he disagreed. “I betrayed my men, abandoned them when they needed me. And then I came here, falling apart, and tried to use you to glue myself back together. I almost shattered you at the same time.”

“But you didn’t,” you reminded him firmly, silencing his budding protests with a kiss. “Even facing something no one should ever have to - and taking on guilt that was never yours to carry - you stopped when I needed you to. You recognized our safeword and then did what you could to make things right.”

Cody’s arms tightened another fraction before they loosened. You watched his eyelids flutter closed, his dark lashes only drawing attention to the circles beneath them.

“And you cannot blame yourself for this, Cody,” you insisted, loathe as you were to disturb this moment of peace. “You are just as much a victim of this situation as any of your men. Maybe you weren’t on Umbara when things went wrong, but you were following orders just like every one of the 212th.”

“If I had been there-”

“You weren’t there,” you interrupted. “You weren’t there because you were doing your duty and standing by your general. There’s no way of knowing whether anything would have gone differently if you were there. Stars, that Jedi may have killed you if you didn’t go along with his orders.”

Your grip tightened involuntarily as you thought over your own words. Yes, that was an extremely likely outcome. If your brave boyfriend had been on Umbara as the tide began to shift, he would have said something and - if it came down to it - why would the rogue Jedi have cared about one more clone’s life if he was ordering them to die by the thousands?

“When do you leave?” you asked instead of voicing any of those very unhelpful thoughts.

“Oh-five-hundred,” he said. “It’s the earliest the general could get jump clearance. The men are holding the planet right now, but we need to get there as soon as possible. There’s too much chance that the locals will rise against them or that the trauma will be too much for the survivors… We need to get there. I need to get there.”

You kissed Cody’s furrowed forehead. You knew better than to tell him to sleep. There probably wouldn’t be any sleep tonight, not for either of you. But for the next few hours, Cody was safe in your arms and you were safe in his. 

It was enough for the night.

---

Author's Note - I know Cody and Obi-Wan were both on Umbara when things went wrong. This is a slight AU imagining that they were both pulled from the planet for fear of interference.

Thanks for reading and sorry about the angst! Feel free to let me know what you thought!

I don't offer a taglist for NSFW fics, but you can check out other works on my masterlist!

[mirastark]

Overcoming Fears

Darth Vader x Reader

Chapter Five

————————————

Casually, the two of you trotted along the empty hallways chatting. “So how’s Vader?“ you asked quietly after turning a corner.

“What do you mean?” she replied turning her head to you.

“Well your the one whose got to deal with him, and of what I’ve heard over the years besides his power he is incredibly stubborn.”

“He hasn’t been as bad these few days, I just can never finish what I need to, and only get to minor things. I am really hoping Lord Mira wont be as bad, because what you said about her injuries sounds like she’ll need more care than he will normally.” The two of you rounded the corner to Vaders medical bay. Going through the first Door past the troopers you were meet with a secondary door with a keypad. She reached up to it when the door slid open. The botanist jumped almost into the wall as she wasn’t expecting it to open on its own. The large Sith Lord stepped through the door, peering down at the two of you through the lenses of his dark mask. Hastily you stepped to the wall out of his way, somehow afraid of being drug down another hallway.

“General.” He nodded to you as in respect. As this was very confusing you returned the favor, promptly bowing, letting out a low “My Lord.” Paying no attention to the girl he continued, “I apologise if my apprentice is not in the best mood… In some circumstances the one guilty for a certain action will not be the only one punished for it…”

‘What did he mean by that?’ You thought ‘Was that really where the saber marks came from? Sure she had crashed her ship and lost half of her assigned fleet because of me… but that was my fault, not hers-‘

“The Sith are not as merciful as you believe we are General… You should be grateful your alive.” Vader stated, as if answering your question. His masked then turned the large room, through the open door he had just left, before looking back to you. “If you do have any problems with Lord Mira, whether it be her stubbornness, or her anger overtaking her, the Emperor and I will be willing to fix any problems she may cause to you two…”

“I assure you My Lord we won’t have any problems-“ the botanist insisted. His head tilted to her.

“We will see about that, Botanist.” Swiftly Vader strutted out the first door and down the hallway, leaving the two in the small room in between the two doors. The Botanist sighed, walking into the large room. As you followed her inside you looked around, a platform stood in the center surrounded with mechanical arms, some table on the left wall, a small closet like room filled with plants on the right wall, and lastly a chair with carts and equipment around it. That was where Mira sat, her arms rested along the sides of the chair, she sat straight up, yet her head was bowed. None of her wounds from the previous day had been covered nor bandaged, this made it worse.

The girl moved swiftly around the chair, pushing carts and random pieces of equipment out of the way. Placing her hand on the back of the chair, going around it for what seemed the hundredth time, the botanist looked up to you, “Grab the light thing of that table over there.” She directed. Spinning around, you snatched the torch of the table behind you walking over to the two, handing it to B. You stood next to her, seeing if you needed to help in any way. She walked to the front of the chair Mira sat in. As slowly as she wished B placed her hand on the troubled Sith’s chin. She held it there for a moment before gently pulling her head up to reveal a nasty scar, directly across her right eye.

“We’re going to look at your eye first if that’s alright.” B asked, taking her hand away from her. She nodded. She was exhausted, worn out, hurt, and tired, yet at the same time it looked like she could spring from the chair with full energy, ready to kill someone. ‘guess that was the anger part Vader mentioned’ you thought. B held a black cloth over her unharmed eye, while shinning the torch into her other eye. “Can you see anything?” She question.

“no” Lord Mira mumbled.

“Not even if I move it around, can you at least see the light moving away?” B asked moving through torch towards the wall and then her eye.

“no” she repeated. B pulled the cloth and torch away from her face, tossing them onto a nearby cart.

“Great- do you know what caused it at least?” B asked glancing up at her. The Sith sat quietly for a moment, thinking.

“An- electric shock…” Mira answered. B rolled over a cart which held the blood pressure materials. She nodded, taking Mira’s arm, B begun to hook her up to the machine.

‘What electric shock?’ You thought to yourself, ‘Her ship couldn’t have done that. Maybe the sith really did blame her for what happened to the fleet. But what electricity do we have in this castle that could do as much damage as that did.’

“Your much more cooperative than Lord Vader.” The botanist laughed. Coming back to reality, Lord Mira had already been hooked up to the machine.

“Nu meo forced kia.” The sith mumbled under her breath. Unless someone besides her in that room had learned the Ancient Sith Language, they would have known what she had said. But of course, no one but her, Darth Vader, and The Emperor new the language by heart, and would speak to each other in it very often.

“Pardon?” B asked turning, from one of her carts.

“Nothing medic…” she scoffed, straightening herself in the chair.

“Well we aren’t going to have a problem… Are we?” B dared. She knew Mira had heard Vader before. Besides her wounds, B had found a weak spot in the sith.

Lord Mira flinched hearing this. “SHE FLINCHED!” you yelled in your head. It was unusual of you to react to her like this, but even as the morning before was unusual, so was this small action. Mira’s head suddenly lifted up to meet your gaze. She was starring at you know with a puzzled look on her face. B was glancing back and forth from the two of you.

“Well?” B asked once again. Turning her head back to Lord Mira.

The sith turned her head from your gaze, looking back down to the floor in front of her “Of course not, salîŋ.” She replied. The last bit being a soft whisper you could hardly hear.

“Good.” B replied going back to one of the carts near the chair. You assumed she did not hear what you did. “I’ll check your leg next, I think it needs a bit more atten-“ she stoped mid sentence, her head quickly turning back to the sith. ‘What did she see?’ You thought, looking between the two. You were just the same puzzled look as Mira did. B quickly snatched the torch of of the cart, pacing to the chair. Terra knelt beside it, grabbing the side of the siths face, pushing it up to shine the light on her neck. Mira was confused at what she had seen, it took her a moment to remember, yet when she did her eyes widened and she pulled away from her hand, bringing her head back down. Finally you saw what she did.

Her neck was blood red, covered in scratches. Your mind reminded you of the gasps of air you heard this morning before you opened the door. ‘Was Vader really that mad.’ You thought to yourself. ‘I mean he has been known for choking people but never that bad- although his grip is tight, i would know that, but i still couldn’t imagine that around my neck.’ Suddenly a wave of remorse came over you. You felt bad for the sith. She had been through hell for your mistake, and it was all your fault.

You came back to reality, Terra was practically wrestling with Mira to help her with her neck.

“Let me help, please.” Terra begged. She placed her hand back to her chin, lifting her head up. Terra then moved her hand down to the redness of her neck. The Sith flinched, slightly pulling away from her touch, yet keeping her head up. “We can’t do anything about that now, I’ll go ahead and move on to your leg.” Terra stated after examining her neck a bit more.

By the time Terra had finished bandaging Mira’s leg, Vader strutted into the med bay as the familiar sound of his breathing filled the room. He stood a few paces in front of the chair as you and Terra, both lifted your heads to him. “Lord Mira, the Emperor wishes to speak to you before he departs.” He announced. Terra quickly stood up from where she knelt by Mira’s leg, stepping away from Vaders gaze.

“Very well…” Mira sighed as she pushed herself up from the chair. Hesitantly she took a step towards him, as he glanced to her leg, the white bandages over her robes stuck out more than anything. She cautiously limped past him and towards the door without another word. Lord Vader nodded to the two of you before turning to his apprentice, placing a hand on her shoulder and walking out.

You and Terra looked at each other with worried faces. You both saw how tense she has become when he entered. Terra was not afraid of Vader, and had no reason to be, but to him you were just someone who could be replaced very easily, yet Mira, his apprentice, she was not to be killed, yet he knew he could hurt her as much as he pleased.

[kermitdafroggy]

"It seems that you had some trouble with the keypad. I see what you were trying to type, and I will auto-correct it for you. One moment. Welcome: Eggs Benedict"

I made hand unit out of cardboard :P

[casspurrjoybell-24]

The Alpha's Beta - Chapter 22 - Part 2

BOOK ONE: The Alpha's Trilogy

*Warning Adult Content*

Three Black Cadillacs - Part 2

Alpha Silas Claymore

We walked side by side until we got to the little coffee shop that we had stopped at yesterday.

The lights were off leaving the street in front of it dark, instead of it's normal orange glow.

Darren pulled out a set of keys before unlocking the door.

We stepped inside and made our way towards the back, using my cellphone as a flash light.

Once in the back we went to the large metal door that held the walk-in freezer.

Darren opened the door and walked inside.

The cold air bit my skin as I walked behind him.

Inside the freezer was dark and the smell of dough and coffee was all over.

Darren hit a keypad, where he entered a four digit code, then he pushed a small button that made the wall in the back swing open slowly, shelf and all.   

We were then in front of a lit stairway, about fifteen stairs going down.

Once at the bottom we were then in front of another door, Darren then put in another code, then turned the small handle.

The door opened to reveal the large cement room, It was well lit, even with the lack of windows.

Lights were in the ceiling and lamps were on desks and beside sofas.

There was a T.V. on the wall, four sofa's that sat around it.

A small kitchen behind the sofas, with a mini fridge and sink.

Quinton and Darcy has set up camp at a desk on the other side of the room.

Computer monitors showed every bit of land that was above our heads.

Sitting on a blanket on the floor was Star.

He, Ivan and two other boys had Gameboys in hand and where knocking one another's shoulders with wide smiles on their faces.

Around the boys were pieces of paper, that I could only assume were used so Star could talk to everyone around him.

The bunker was filled with about twenty-five people.

Most of the kids.

Though there were more kids in the pack, some parents had decided to send their kids off to families in another pack just in case.  

A few of the pack members looked over to Darren and I as we walked in.

They nodded there heads to us respectfully.

They had all already known about the mating, since Quinton was able to show the meeting on the cameras.   

I made my way to Quinton and hovered over his shoulder for a minute, while Darren went over to Star.

The boys didn't seem to notice either of us walk in but as soon as Darren was within a few feet of them Star jumped to his feet and started waving his hands around.   

I could see Darren trying to process everything Star was saying.

He was new to the whole sign language thing and still had trouble learning all the words but soon he was able to get everything in a laughed and replied.  

"Sir," Quinton said, getting my attention.

"Everyone seems to be in place. Is there anything you'd like me to do?"

"No Quinton, you can relax. Just keep an eye on everything."

He nodded his head and went back to watching the cameras.   

*********

Far too soon Darren and I had to leave the bunker and make our way to the front gates where we brought lunch to Ellis.

Nothing had been seen or out of place for the last few hours and I was starting to think... no one would show up.  

"I think if he picks blue, you could accent it with grey," Ellis said to Darren, as I rolled my eyes.   

"Or..." Darren started but was cut off by the ringing from my cell-phone.   

Quinton's name flashed across my screen.

"Hello?" I answered.   

"Alpha Silas. There are three black cars coming towards the territory. A few miles away. Terence and Gwen say first car looks like three people, one front two back, car two is two people, one front one back and car three are three people, two front, one back. All windows are tinted but they said they could see outlines."

"Thanks Quinton," I said as I hung up my cell-phone.

Once I concentrated I could feel the cars about a ten minute drive way.

"They're coming," I said turning to Darren who sent a quick text off his phone for everyone to get on guard.   

Though we hadn't been told a fight would be breaking out.

I needed everyone to be ready.

I couldn't let my pack be caught off guard and attacked.

I couldn't let children be left at the park with no way of being helped.

I needed to make sure all bases were covered before this happened.

Darren, Ellis and I stepped before the front gates once the cars got closer.

Three shiny black modern Cadillacs stopped just before us.

I watched as the front door to the first car opened and a medium build, petite woman stepped out.

She had her brown hair tied in a bun and had on a black pant suit.

She nodded her head towards us before she opened the back door to the car.

Then, a tall man who had to be at least Darren's height stepped from the car.

His dark brown hair was gelled away from his face and he also wore a black suit but you could tell his was more money and taken better care of.

He straightened his jacket before his eyes met mine.

I sucked in a breath when I saw them, I knew I'd seen them before.   

Simons, eyes, he had Simons dark brown eyes but his lacked the special shine that Simon's eyes had.  

I knew his face though, I knew I'd met him before but I couldn't put my finger on where.   

"Alpha Silas," he said in a deep, booming voice.

It wasn't a welcoming happy tone, it was a cold dark tone, with an underline I couldn't quite touch.

"It's nice to see you again," he smirked, his eyes going from mine to Darren's, then to Ellis.   

"I'm sorry but I can't say I can I say the same," I replied.

I stood tall, with Darren and Ellis doing the same beside me.

I knew we were both giving off an aura.

We wouldn't let him think he could walk over us.

I wasn't part of this war and he needed to have that known.  

"Ah, I guess. It has been many years. Simon was only an infant when I last saw you, it wasn't a fast meeting, just a check up," he said casually, as he leaned himself of the car.

"Speaking of Simon, where is he?"   

"He's not here and to be totally honest with you, I have no idea where he is. Why do you want to know where he is?"      

"Can't a man check up on his nephew?" he asked.

I saw Ellis tense at my side.    

"It's Charles then, I assume."   

"Ah, yes. How rude of me. Charles Maverick. Nice to, re-meet you."

He held his hand out of me but after a few seconds of me not going to grab it, he put it down and just shrugged.   

"Why are you here?" Darren asked stepping up a bit away from my side.   

"I'm here to get what's mine. Which includes the golden wolf you're harboring and his brother."   

"We can't give you his brother because if he's not here," Darren replied, crossing his arms over his chest.   

A smile grew on Charles Maverick's face, almost as if he was trying not to laugh.

"Oh, of course, my mistake," he said before moving from his car and standing up straight.

"Now enough of this, my daughter and I have a few things to discus with you. Would you let us in. We promise to be good."   

I almost didn't let him in but I thought about it for a moment.

I wasn't going to get the answers I was looking for without letting him in.

He wasn't going to talk.

Star was safe underground, along with the rest of the children and the pack was trained in everything we needed.   

So I nodded my head and opened the front gates, letting the three cars and the eight people inside them in.

[forgotten-plotline]

It seems that you had some trouble with the keypad. I see what you were trying to type, and I will autocorrect it for you. One moment. Welcome, Eggs Benedict!

Man my head is so empty I am not noticing typos in my art