#turns out there's no trap door cc sigh

[isimchi]

Downtown revamp: Hans' Trapdoor Corp

My concept for this: what if Han's Trapdoor Corp actually had... trap doors?!

Floor plan under cut:

The Simlandian Styles boutique downstairs looks standard enough, but two of the four changing rooms have secret back doors— which lead to a mirrored maze of doors! It has two not-so dead ends: a spiral staircase that leads up to a mysterious book nook, and an elevator long past it's inspection due date that brings you to a tiny speakeasy! Turns out those missing employees were just enjoying an extended break.

[dilfhos]

CURE TO BOREDOM

#!WHO; KENMA KOZUME x fem!reader

#!CC; overstimulation and edging, timeskip kenma

But he’s gathered the gist; you’re sorry for bothering him, it won’t happen again, for him to ‘please please please’ give you what you want…!

Very rarely does Kenma leave you unsatisfied, as he’s always made sure to take care of your needs.

But sometimes he needed to take care of his as well and maybe that called for a couple hours to himself on the game. He usually has a lot on his plate day in and day out with work at his company. And you respect his desire for solitude. But sometimes, you just get so bored, so needy and touch starved.

There’s only so much watching the television and scrolling through your social media could do to sate your boredom. You even tried turning on your own game system, but after a while you grew tired of that too.

You peek down the hallway at the closed door on the left. It was the room Kenma deemed as his personal space. A separate bed, a gaming system, an entire desktop for his PC gaming needs.

There’s literally nothing more he could ask for. In the past he’d always make it known that when the door was shut, he was done for the day. It was an inexplicit way of telling you not to bother him. And while sometimes you got away with doing so, there wasn’t a say of how many more slip ups he would take from you.

He was lenient, yes, but there's no telling how far he’d allow you to continue.

You sigh, biting your lip. It seems your restlessness was becoming the best of you.

Wordlessly, you rise from your place on the couch and creep to the room he occupied. Your stomach flutters as your hand falls on the cool doorknob before turning it. From the small crack you see it's dark save for the harsh glare of the screen and the red wire lights that run across his desk. He has a pretty intricate set up going on, something he takes pride in for every dime dropped.

“Kenma,” You call him from the cracked door. Bright light spills from the hallway, mixing in with the lights in the room. He’s mumbling something into his mic; if he’s heard you, he doesn’t make it known. Frowning, you open the door wider causing more light to seep through and that’s when his fingers pause from their speedy mashing against the keys.

“Is there something you need?” He mumbles, a bit annoyed to have been interrupted. You make your way behind him, hands moving to his shoulders.

“I’m bored.” Your voice holds a suggestive lilt to it. The male is nothing short of perceptive as he knows all too well what you‘re implying.

“And I’m busy.” It's as if you don’t even hear him though. Instead, you brush back his hair giving you access to his neck where you nibble at the juncture between his collarbone and shoulder. Just subtly, you see his head tilt a bit and you smile against his skin. Your hand files down to the front of his body, running a teasing trail down between the planes of his chest and his abdomen. But before you could reach your desired destination, he grips your hand.

“I said I’m busy.”

“I just wanna…play,” Your voice softens at the last word when he turns and you meet his eyes, the usual bright gold is now a darker shade of amber, his black pupils nearly engulfing the color.

“Play huh? Alright,” He says softly. Because of your proximity, you could hear the low curses of his friend Tetsurō demanding his attention in the headset.

“Kuroo, I’ll have to resume this in a little bit. There’s something I need to take care of.” He releases your hand and you step back. But you don’t get that far because Kenma whips his chair around before yanking you by your arm. You squeal as you unceremoniously fall across his lap. He has a hand quickly situated against the small of your back, trapping you against him.

“Kenma!” You struggle to move but his hand only digs in further.

“What’s wrong? Isn’t this what you wanted?” Not exactly, but you don’t get an opportunity to voice this as the hand on your back begins to move, trailing further down until he’s palming your ass. He massages the area as you whimper, stirring to alleviate the needy ache between your legs. He hums as he moves to pull against the waistband of your lounge pants, leaving your bottom half in nothing but your damp panties. His fingers immediately sought out the apex of your thighs, tutting when you try to clench them together.

“Don’t hide this from me. What, didn't you want me to play here?” The pads of his fingers brush up against the outline of your puffy lips, tracing the most delicate patterns against the fabric.

“Kenma…” You try and shift to reduce your discomfort as you're at a rather awkward position with the armrest digging against you. However, he’s not having it as his hand pinches at one of your ass cheeks.

“None of that.” He mutters, voice just loud enough for you to hear and send shivers down your spine. His touches are fleeting as he runs them up and down the seam of your lips. He hums as he then pulls the fabric of your panties to the side, unsurprised to find you utterly wet. Your thighs quiver as his fingers just barely brush up against you.

“Kenma please,” You mewl, giving you hips a little shimmy. He sighs before obliging, his fingers sinking into you. You sigh from the fullness of his long fingers and just barely he stretches them, spreading your walls a bit wider around him. His pace starts out slow and deliberate as he repeatedly sinks his fingers inside you. But in no time, he picks up the pace with every thrust, drawing out the most delicious cries from your lips.

“Kenma,” You whine, burying your head into the side of his leg. He ignores your whimpers as his dexterous fingers continue their assault, roughly thrusting and curling against your gummy walls. Each time, he’s hitting that spot within you, the one that has you seeing near stars.

In no time, your tummy tightens as you feel a sense of buildup.

You’re so close and already, it’s right there. It’s…

Kenma pulls away and you try to lift your hips up to follow but his hand is pushing you back against his lap. His hand grips one of your ass cheeks, spreading you before him as he leans over and dark golden eyes observe the way your cunt twitches around nothing.

After a moment, his fingers are roughly breaching your pussy again, twisting and thrusting with the same fervor as before. You’re keening against him, wanting to shy away from his ruthless digits but your body bows to his ministrations as before long, you're back where you were before. Your mind reels as he pulls away again just as your release is teetering on the very edge. So desperately do you want it to tip, allowing you to completely be washed under the pleasurable sensation.

“W-Why I-” Your body slumps back against him and you cry in frustration, knowing all too well what this particular game is. It’s one you dread.

“Why what? I’m simply giving you what you wanted. You said you were bored,” His fingers tangle in your hair, pulling your head back at an uncomfortable angle.

“Are you still bored?”

“I-ahh!” His fingers glide down your puffy lips until he’s pressing up against your clit.

“Yes or no?” He hums.

“No!” You cry out as he continues to roughly circle your bud.

“That’s good,”

“Kenma, I want to-to…”

“Want to what?” He’s thrusting into you again and your back arches slightly as you ignore the pain from the position. The corner of his mouth lifts slightly as he watches you become an absolute mess, growing harder with every defeated cry you release from his little game.

By now, you’ve lost count at how many times he’s denied you of your orgasm, your mind going more blank by the minute. You’re panting and drooling and begging him, your apologies lost somewhere in the midst of your incoherent babbling.

But he’s gathered the gist; you’re sorry for bothering him, it won’t happen again, for him to please please please give you what you want.

But it sounds all too similar to the last promise you had made. But after some time, he indulges you as his fingers are rapidly hitting that spot over and over again with precision.

“Can you cum for me now?” There’s definitely no hesitance with the soft yet assertiveness of his voice and the edging up until that point. Right on cue with his words, you're whining as your walls tighten around him, signifying your release. At least you were obedient where it mattered now. He pauses as you bask in your afterglow of your much desired, satisfaction easing into you.

Your relief is short lived, however, because his fingers are moving again.

You gasp as you grip at his leg, your eyes blurring with the way his fingers roughly plunge back and forth into you. Squelching noises resonate throughout the space, paired with your whines of it being too much but it seems your comfort was far from Kenma’s mind.

His lips are set in a line now, his face deadpanned as his fingers continue their rapid pace in your sopping cunt. You're squirming from the overstimulation as a new pressure begins to arise from within.

Kenma releases your hair as his hand presses down against your back which has you pinned deeper against his knee where pressure is asserted on a specific part of your tummy. He holds you down with unparalleled strength as he shoves you toward yet another orgasm but this time it seems different. Something else was tugging at your loins, something that has new tears brimming over your lashes and your cries coming in short pleas.

“W-Wait Kenma!” He ignores you and your futile struggles.

“Kenma please, it’s too much! I’m-I’m gonna- Oh!” It hits you almost painfully. You come undone once again, this time, your juices spraying around his fingers. He keeps thrusting through your release, your juices sloshing around his relentless fingers as you're crying and jerking away from him. Satisfied, he finally slows until he stops, pulling his digits away from you.

You’re a whimpering mess as he releases you, allowing you to crumple to the floor. As you’re catching your breath, your body still twitching through the aftershocks, he’s licking his fingers clean of your juices.

“I’m going to get back to my game now,” He says before turning his chair away from you. Kenma sighs before picking up the headset.

“You know, you could’ve hung up?!”

DILFOS. DO NOT PLAGIARIZE MY CONTENT—CURRENT OR ARCHIVAL.

[doombum]

I once again made Evan suffer for the #CC weekend bash. I was planning on doing fluffy stuff but the angst just keeps inviting itself to the party apparently.

@and-stir-the-stars

Sunday 7th: Trust / Betrayal / Trapped

Trigger warning: Panic attacks, Claustrophobia, Nyctophobia, Implied child death, Blood mention

Evan woke up to the sound of laughter resonating around the corridor and he immediately clutched Fredbear close to his chest at the unexpected darkness he was met with. He whimpered into the plush’s soft fur as he struggled to find the switch of his bedside lamp, turning it on as quickly as he could and letting out a sigh of relief as his room was illuminated.

He looked around and immediately noticed that his curtains had been drawn close at some point during the night, most probably by his dad - he had made a habit of doing so since finding out Evan was scared of the dark, telling him that he needed to grow out of his childish fears.

Going up to open them back up and letting the sunlight of the early morning enter his room, he also realised that his door was shut. He gripped Fredbear even tighter at the sight as he tried to calm himself.

He shakily walked towards the door, feeling tears already forming in the corner of his eyes as it started to become harder to breathe. It felt like the room was closing in on him and he needed to leave as quickly as possible before it crushed him.

Making his way there, he stumbled over his toys, scattered around the room, almost falling several times as he became more and more desperate to open the door. He grabbed the handle with sweaty hands, struggling to get a good hold on it before he pulled it down, frowning when it didn't do anything.

He tried again, and again, and again, growing more and more frantic as the door wouldn't budge.

A whimper left his throat and he turned around, eyes darting around his room to try to find another exit. He fell back against the door, clutching at his shirt in an attempt to calm his raging heartbeat as he realised his window was out of the question - his dad still needed to fix the broken latch - and there was no other way out.

“No, no, no !” He muttered to himself, dropping onto his knees and rocking back and forth. “Please, let me out !”

Gripping tightly at Fredbear, he shut his eyes closed to avoid looking at the suffocating room that was getting smaller and smaller. It was going to crush him.

He hadn't even realised he had started yelling pleas to be let out until he heard Mike on the other side of the door, fumbling with the handle and yelling back for him to calm down.

At the sound, Evan hurriedly turned around, still on his knees, hitting and scratching at the door desperately until his hands started to bleed. He only stopped when the door finally opened and he could breathe again.

He wasted no time pulling himself forward and into the corridor, desperately needing to get away from his room. As a result, he launched himself right into Mike's legs as his brother stood just outside the door with his hand still on the handle.

“Shit !” Instead of pushing him off, like Evan had expected him to, Michael kneeled down and pulled him into his chest, hugging him tightly. “I’m… sorry.”

Evan’s eyes widened at the hesitant words, his brother never having apologised to him before, but his surprise quickly gave way to a sense of betrayal as he took in the words.

“You locked me in there ?” He could hear his voice wavering at the thought, the tears that had started to stop starting to flood down again.

“It was just a prank !” Mike pulled away, crossing his arm and taking a defensive tone. Evan looked down at the ground, having a hard time understanding how his own brother could do that to him. “You weren’t supposed to freak out like that !”

“I couldn’t get out…” He said between sobs, his mind still trying to process what had happened. “I- I-”

Mike started to rub his back awkwardly and Evan cried even harder at the comforting motion. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.” After a moment, his brother tried to pull him away. A bit of struggle later, Evan was held at arm's length, trying to avoid his brother's gaze. “I won’t do that again.”

At that, he looked up at his brother's face, taking note of how serious and openly worried he looked. “You promise ?”

Mike hunched a bit at that, and looked away for a moment before he exhaled and nodded. “Yeah, I promise.”

Evan smiled shyly, still a bit wary of the older’s words. To reassure himself, he held out his pinky for Mike to seal his promise. His brother huffed and rolled his eyes but linked his own pinky anyway before ruffling his hair and pulling him back up on his feet. “Now, come on. Let's get you cleaned up.”

Evan giggled at the motion and followed Mike down the corridor, hoping he could actually trust him to respect his promise and never lock him somewhere ever again.

–––––––

Evan woke up to complete silence and darkness filling his vision. Terrified out of his mind, he tried to search for his beloved plush, wanting to feel the comfort it always brought him, but found his body completely unresponsive. Panic rose in his chest as he tried to blink to clear his vision but nothing happened.

What was happening? Why was it so dark ? Where was he ?

He tried voicing his questions, calling for help, desperate for someone, anyone, to hear him. But nothing came out other than a static sound that made him wince and want to curl in on himself.

He didn't understand. Why couldn't he speak ? Why couldn't he move ? What was happening to him ?

He struggled to remember, his mind racing through his panic and getting glimpses of balloons, cake and blood. So much blood. Why was there so much blood ?

He had been crying, pleading to be let go - he could remember that. But they wouldn't leave him alone. They had dragged him. Who were they ? He couldn't remember.

He tried to think, tried to see it, but the only thing coming up was the image of his father's terrifying animatronics. Surrounding him. Dragging him. Laughing while he was screaming.

Thinking harder, desperate for answers, he realised he knew those. They weren't animatronics. They were Michael's friends and their scary masks. Tormenting him.

Was it… Was it Mike ? Did Mike put him here ? Did he lock him here ? He said he wouldn't do it again. He promised him. Evan had trusted him.

Why would he do that ? Did he do something wrong ?

Please. Mike. I'm scared. Please, help me. I didn't mean to, whatever it was I did, I didn't mean to ! Please, let me out !

He tried to move again, but the most he achieved was to produce a weird creaking sound. He felt so heavy, like he was buried under a mountain of metal.

The darkness was becoming more and more oppressive the longer he stared into it, and it seemed to have swallowed him entirely. He almost wished he could just close his eyes and never wake up again.

Despair gripped at him as he realised he had no way out this time. No-one was around - the silence so overbearing - and even if there was someone, he couldn't move or speak to tell them he was there.

But Mike had to know he was here, right ? If he was the one who locked him here. He would come back for him. He would open the door and let him out. Like he did back in his bedroom. He wouldn't just leave him there. Would he ?

How long had he been here ? It felt like minutes. It felt like years. Was Mike trying to save him ? Had he forgotten about him ?

Maybe it wasn't him ? But then he wouldn't know where he was. Who he is. He wouldn't come for him. He wouldn't know it's him that's stuck here.

In a small, terrified final attempt to reach out for help, he whispered again into the void, hoping one day, someone will come and save him: “It's me.”

[gloriouswhispers]

felicity lets out a quick guffaw of a laugh to alec's words, forced like every interaction they've shared over the centuries. not one of them ever brief enough. 'i don't think compelled human opinions count.' but the statement of her well-being or lack thereof makes her quiet. the torture endured within the facility, a harrowing experience for even the most unafraid. but it isn't her own time spent inside there that plagues her mind. felicity wonders if humans would show any kindness to a child. she prays for it, and she has never once believed in god. but now she prays to any of them that may exist. she pleads with freya for cc's protection. she sighs for angels to be listening and watching and she's ready to raise hell with the devil to ensure just one thing. please let the humans show a kindness to children. 'i've been splendid. what makes you think otherwise?' she watches him with a ghostly smile, curious why the door remains open until alec, in all of his arrogance, makes even the faintest of her smiles drop away. 'you can celebrate if you wish but i can't promise it will be for long.' fel turns fully then, gaze washing over him as her voice dances along the edge of stoicism and anger. she follows, watching as the door is opened and studying the small room that will be her new home. she doesn't mind not having much. prefers it, actually. 'don't flatter yourself. people just like to talk, alec.' she glances to him, not reacting to her strewn bag and instead finding a slight glimmer of laughter at it. 'all these centuries old and you're still essentially, a child trapped in a man's body.'

★・・・・・・★

"Well, you know what they say about old habits." Alec's grin was sinister even as he still moved aside to let Felicity enter her new home. "And I have been told that I have an irresistible quality, so it could be that." he quipped through a smirk. "Well enough, thanks to this place. I take it you haven't been quite so well." Alec's tone met Fel's in their faux politeness, a slight ooze of amusement at the Beaumont's misfortune. Despite the Grand Central Massacre being a well known disaster through their species, Alec kept the door wide open and took a few steps away from it before glancing to the front steps and pointing between Fel and the empty doorway. "Oh...just you?" it wasn't a question, Alec stifling a soft but sardonic laugh as he returned to close the door. "Shame. But, it feels like a historic moment. The first time a Beaumont sister seen without another. We should...well, celebrate doesn't seem the right word." Pacing back towards Felicity, Alec swooped up her belongings and continued the walk to show her the room. "We can share, but I don't think I have the equipment you prefer." Alec laughed then, pushing open the bedroom door as if ready to guide her kindly before throwing her bag onto the bed. "You still listen for whispers about me? That's touching."

[jurrasicworldcc]

Jurassic World CC OC Fanfic

Title: April

Setting: Season 4, during “Turning Dr. Turner.”

I do not own anything

Casey sighed as Dr. Mae Turner opened the door to her home on this new island. It was really refreshing to see something that wasn’t Camp Cretaceous or the genetics lab…but Casey still had his suspicions over the hollow forest and how Mae’s bosses managed to get T. Rexes from Isla Sorna seeing how that island is pretty much myth or is it?

Sammy sat down on the couch. “Wow. As far as caves go, this one’s pretty swank.”

“You live here?” Darius asked.

“Live, work, play surprisingly competitive games of poker with my daughter.” Mae answered. “Usually win.”

“Daughter?” Brooklynn asked.

“Oh, yes. More like adopted in the case. April. Come out please.”

“Coming, Mum.” A voice said.

Then stepped out a really beautiful girl that Casey was hypnotized to. She had green eyes, red hair tied into a ponytail, fair skin compared to Mae’s Black skin, and wore a grey shirt that Sammy couldn’t help but see that the logo on the shirt was familiar, she wore a long-sleeved sky blue shirt over the grey shirt, tan shorts, and brown boots. The girl stepped out and asked, “Are these guests, Mum?”

“Yes, they are.” Mae answered. “All right, I’m gonna go whip up some sandwiches.”

She left and April looked at Casey. He was pretty much blushing really hard and April smiled warmly at the boy. She walked over to him and Casey’s mine was on the fritz. OH, GOD! SHE’S COMING RIGHT TO ME!! WHAT DO I DO?!?!?! BE COOL, BE COOL, BE COOL!!!! JUST USE KENJI AND BROOKLYNN’S ADVICE WHEN PRETTY GIRLS TALK TO YOU!

“Ello! I’m April Turner.” April said.

“H-H-Hi. I’m Casey…Casey Johnson.” Casey said while nervously shaking her hand.

“That’s a good name.”

SHE LIKE MY NAME!!!! Casey kept his blush and played with a loose strand of his unkept hair. “S-So…You…Uh…”

“What’s wrong?” April tilted her head in confusion.

Yaz put a hand on Casey’s shoulder and replied, “Sorry. He’s a bit nervous around pretty girls. Also, we haven’t talked to another human being in the last six months expect for a doctor and his gang of mercenaries.”

“Don’t forget Mitch and Tiff…” Casey whispered.

“Don’t worry. I don’t bite. Unless if you have to brand your claws to get some triceratops meat around here.” April giggled.

“W-Wait. Claws?” Casey asks.

“Oh, I’m a human-dinosaur hybrid. Had them when I was a baby.”

“What kind of genes?”

“Raptors.”

“Oh, me too! Actually I’m the first human-Dino hybrid in existence, and my mother, Caroline Johnson, was the one who made the formula to make us who we are.”

“How old are you?”

“Sixteen.”

“Same here. Say, you want a cup of tea while we talk?”

“Sure even though I’m a coffee guy.”

April walked over to make the tea and Yaz looked at Casey. “What was that?”

“What was what?” Casey asked.

“You have feelings for her.”

“What?”

Yaz raised an eyebrow smugly. Casey sighed as there was no fooling this girl and he blushed again. “I…I’m starting to. I mean, she’s beautiful, she’s sixteen, and she’s a hybrid just like me.”

April showed up with two cups of tea and the two sat down. Casey sipped from the cup and it was probably better than coffee. Even better than the coffee he made during the six months trapped on Nublar. Casey sat his cup down and asked, “So, how did you get on this island?”

“Well, Mum has worked at a lab back in London and I attended a private school so I could at least be entertained for a few hours while she was away. I did show some of my hybrid skills once in a while to my classmates. Then, Mum got a job and we dropped me out of school and we moved here.”

“Well, I was born somewhere in Costa Rica. Well, I spent mostly all of my life on Isla Nublar where I was “tortured” into being a dangerous hybrid. It was until my friends saved me and got me into Camp Cretaceous.”

“Camp Cretaceous?”

“It was a summer camp thing that my friends and the staff were testing out six months ago.”

“What made you stuck on that island?”

“Well, it was this hybrid dinosaur called the “Indominus Rex” that got us lost on the island and also these two poachers named Mitch and Tiff. Tiff really wanted my head on Mitch’s wall and she met an…ahem…gruesome death by some Baryonyxes.”

“Must’ve been hell trying to survive.”

“Yeah, it was.”

“At least, you have friends. I didn’t have any except for Mum. She’s pretty much my only family.”

The two smiled and then Mae showed up with plates of sandwiches.

[jgvfhl]

Number Lads! AKA me taking a hammer to canon :)

Well now we see some actual plot being affected by the character choices in this here little ol' story I'm writing. Damn this list is getting long... wonderful! (Read Part 1 - Part 2- Part 3)

Some gentle warnings for injury descriptions--specifically burns

ARC-0000 = Zero = d0nut man

CT-2222 = Do-si-do = Double Trouble

CT-3333 = Trees = Leafs

CT-4444 = Fours = Submarine

ARC-5555 = Fives = high fives

ARC-1409 = Echo = BetterDomino

CC-6666 = Sixes/Death = DEATH

ARC-7777 = Sevenset = RedBoiiiii

CT-8888 = Loops = Loopy

high fives: GUYS guys guys i think echo and i can get our hands on nines soon

d0nut man: “get our hands on nines”

d0nut man: well. I’ve heard stranger things out of one of our medics

BetterDomino: lol yeah us too

Leafs: nines? 212th yeah?

high fives: yeah echo and i just got the rundown for a mission with cmdr cody and gen kenobi and there was definitely a CT-9999 on the list

Double Trouble: oo what kinda mission??

BetterDomino: the kind you’re not allowed to know about

high fives: yeah :3

BetterDomino: and technically he shouldn’t even have mentioned it >_>

Double Trouble: oh ho ho

Leafs: do si do, gossip is not worth breaking classified information

high fives: but nines!!

RedBoiiiii: WE’RE GETTING A NEW NUMBER????

high fives: MAYBE

BetterDomino: very strong maybe

DEATH: classified missions = death trap

DEATH: the new guy might not even make it out, don’t get too excited

RedBoiiiii: life of the party, as usual

Leafs: well he is the more experienced of us in these things… so…

high fives: we’re not gonna die guys

Loopy: you better not :(

DEATH: you want some advice? if the seps point a gun at something, they’re going to shoot

DEATH: doesn’t matter how important it is to them or their cause. they will shoot it.

high fives: … noted sir

BetterDomino: thank you

RedBoiiiii: OYA DOMINO I LOVE YOUUUUUUU blease come back safe *bonk*

high fives: *bonk*

BetterDomino: *bonk*

____

Had Nines not been a member of the 212th for nearly two years, he’d probably be wondering if all of his general’s missions went this muja-shaped so fast. Well. Actually, he’d probably be dead. He rather liked not being dead, and hoped to keep it that way, despite the absolute and utter chaos happening around the Citadel’s lower airfield at the moment. The air was a haze of colors as blue, red, and green blaster bolts zipped through the air, combined with the five lightsabers whirling about the generals and commander. But right now, Nines was really trying not to die while pinned down behind this cargo crate.

The noise of a door drew his attention--ever so briefly--as yet more clankers emerged from the hellish prison. He could only take a glance before he had to duck back behind the large cargo crate he and two ARCs were using for cover. He looked over at the pair, watching one--Echo or Fives, he couldn’t quite recall at the moment--launch a charge at the new droids. Nines felt the detonation, and twisted back around to send some bolts towards the scattered droids. Kriffing hells, commando droids? Again? Stars, he really hated those buggers.

“General Skywalker!” Nines barely caught the tail end of the ARC’s warning as he returned to cover. “A droid is manning one of those turrets. They’re gonna blow up the shuttle, sir.”

Oh, hells no. Nines looked up, locating General Skywalker and General Peill on the little flying craft they’d commandeered from incoming assailants. It looked like they were heading towards the turret, then they disappeared over the edge of the cargo crate.

“This is our only chance!” Nines heard behind him from the same ARC. “We have to stop him.” He looked over just as one of the pair disappeared around the side of the crate, the other close on his heels.

“Echo no!”

Nines jogged over, hoping to cover the pair. Echo was running towards the shuttle’s ramp with a shield dropped by one of the commandos. Nines looked and saw at the same time as Fives--if that was Echo, the one still standing here was Fives--the commando droid at the turret’s controls turning the blaster barrels towards the shuttle.

Nines felt a horribly familiar cold lump sink into his gut as the seconds seemed to slow, green turret rounds creeping closer and closer to Echo and their only way out of this Maker-abandoned pit. But it seemed time hadn’t slowed for Fives, who was suddenly reaching to the ascension cable at the back of his utility belt.

He attached it to his blaster, aimed at his brother, and fired.

There was the distinct sound of the cable striking plastoid. A huge noise followed, managing to drown out the whizz of blaster fire. A wave of light and heat washed over the immediate area as the shuttle exploded. Nines’ eyes followed a chunk of the ship as it flew over the landing pad and destroyed the turret and the droid manning it, but then his attention was back on Fives. Fives, who was drawing in his ascension cable desperately as the rest of the strike team collected by the last way out of the landing pad.

“We need to go,” General Kenobi said, and no one was going to argue. “Now.”

“Fives,” Captain Rex stood next to his ARCs.

Fives was kneeling on one knee over Echo’s unmoving, singed, and smoking form, hastily detaching the cable from his brother’s chestplate. “I got him,” he said, and even for all the training he had, anyone would hear the distress underlining the urgency of his actions.

Nines cast his eyes over the fallen ARC. The plastoid of Echo’s boot had melted in the intense heat of the shuttle’s explosion. It wasn’t coming off until a medic was there to cut it off. Nines was grateful now for the filters in his bucket, keeping the smell of burning blacks and probably flesh out of his nose. Taking another look, he saw Echo’s right arm had suffered similar injuries--the side unprotected by the shield. But, judging by Fives’ concerted efforts, he was still alive.

As the team retreated, Fives finally stowed his cable and his blaster on his belt, hefting his brother across his shoulders and hauling them both up. Nines lagged between the two parties, waiting until Fives had caught up before picking up his pace.

“No man left behind, right?” Nines said, low enough to keep it between them.

“Not a kriffing chance,” Fives huffed.

_____

In a whirlwind of sulfurous stench, near misses, anoobas, crawling over lethal lava lakes, and the unfortunate death of General Peill, the greatly reduced strike team was finally aboard General Koon’s gunship. Fives carefully lowered his brother to the floor, leaning him against the wall. Captain Rex maneuvered over to them, standing between them and the other occupants like a human privacy screen as the gunship flew far, far away from the stinking hell that was The Citadel.

It was another hour or so before Nines had the chance to find them again. Echo’s injuries were the worst to come out of the mission, mostly because of the sheer number of casualties. Nines himself only suffered some relatively superficial bumps and bruises, so he was cleared from medical quickly.

“Where are you off to, Nines?”

The commander, too, had been quickly cleared, it seemed. Nines turned and waited for Commander Cody before starting for the other medbay rooms again. “Sir, I thought I’d check on the two ARCs. Fives and Echo?”

The commander nodded, switching his helmet to under his other arm. “I was gonna check on Rex, and he’s probably with them. I’ll come with.”

“The captain’s pretty fond of them, then?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” the commander smiled, though there was something bittersweet in the expression.

As he’d predicted, they found the captain and Fives outside one of the medbay rooms. Rex was seated on the bench between doorways, his bucket on the floor between his feet, a water bottle in one hand. Fives was on his feet, pacing back and forth in front of the room, his eyes only leaving the windows briefly at every pass. His bucket was resting on the ground near the captain’s.

When the two caught sight of Nines and Cody approaching, Rex made to stand, but the commander gave him a sharp look. “Sit down, Rex.” The captain slumped back down on the bench, where the commander soon joined him. “What’s the word?”

“There hasn’t been any kriffing word,” Fives growled, still pacing.

The commander’s brows scrunched. “It’s been over an hour.”

“I know,” Fives shot back with far more force than Nines would ever use towards a commander.

But Cody took it in stride, barely reacting to the added bite in the ARC’s words. He just nodded and leaned back against the wall like Captain Rex, whom he asked, “Have you both been looked over?”

The captain nodded. “Yeah, we’ve been cleared.”

Nines watched Fives pacing back and forth. He hadn’t gotten much of a chance to talk to Echo or Fives before the whole strike team went into carbonite. But, clearly, Fives needed a distraction. Nines had been around long enough, battle after battle, to recognize that.

He took a step forward, clearing his throat. “Hey, uh… Fives. What was it you were telling me about before we left? That… number group?”

Fives paused in his pacing, and some of the stress on his face replaced by slight confusion, then recognition. “Right. Yeah.”

The captain raised an eyebrow at them both. “Number group? Fives, how many people are you gonna tell about those guys?”

“Well,” Nines began, “he had a good reason. I’m CT-9999. Nines, sir.”

The captain chuckled. “I see.”

“Yeah, he didn’t get much out before we had to go under. Anything else I should know about these guys?”

Fives finally stopped pacing and sighed quietly, looking over through the medbay windows. “Yeah, okay.” He rubbed his eyes, his shoulders lowering as some of the fight left his system. It appeared he’d realized Nines was only trying to take his mind off his injured brother, and was giving in to the plan.

“Why don’t you get cleaned up while you’re at it, Fives,” Captain Rex told him, and despite the wording, it wasn’t a question.

“But--”

“Echo’s not going anywhere,” the captain said, cutting off Fives’ protests. “I’ll stay here, and I’ll comm you the second I hear anything.”

Fives sighed again. The captain had won, Nines knew. The ARC trudged over to collect his helmet from the floor by his captain’s boots. As he straighted up, the captain caught the back of his neck and pressed their foreheads together long enough to murmur something inaudible. Nines knew it wasn’t for him to hear anyway. But Fives nodded when he was released, and even Cody reached up to pat his chestplate. Huh.

“Food first or shower first?” Nines asked when he walked over to him. “‘Cause I’m starving.”

“Yeah, me too,” Fives admitted. “But, I think I wanna get the stink of that place out of my armor before I try eating anything.”

_____

After a fast shower, even by GAR standards, Nines found Fives sitting on the floor outside the ‘freshers in just his blacks and boots with his kit and a wet cloth, in the middle of wiping off the worst of the grime from the mission. He had paused, however, and was now fiddling with his wrist comm. Nines sat down next to him with his own kit to do the same.

“Any news?”

“No, I just remembered something…” Fives replied, clearly occupied. Finally, his comm blinked green as it connected with someone else’s. “Loops?”

There was a hesitant answer. “Fives…? Why can you comm me while I’m in hyperspace?”

Fives smiled triumphantly. “Don’t worry about it. Are you busy right now?”

“I mean… it can wait an hour or so. Why?”

“You wanna pop down to the mess hall for a bit?”

There was a pause. “Are you onboard?”

“Maybe.”

Loops stuttered out a few indignant syllables before demanding, “Did we just haul ass across hyperspace to pull you out of The Citadel?”

“Well, not just me, but yeah. Thanks, by the way, for whatever small part you played in getting us the hell out of there.”

“What in the nine hells were you doing in The Citadel, Fives?”

Fives rolled his eyes. “Can you just meet me in the mess and I’ll tell you?”

Another pause. “Fine, but I’m not happy about it.”

Even if Fives hadn’t filled Nines in on who Loops was on their way to the mess hall, it would have been fairly obvious by the large eight tattooed on his cheek, much the way Fives’ tattoo was obvious. Loops was CT-8888, and his face only dropped its suspicious scowl at Fives when Nines introduced himself.

“Nines? Really?”

“Hey, I said we could get our hands on him,” Fives said around a mouthful of rations. He and Nines had gotten their food and found a table before Loops had shown up.

“Yeah, and the commander said he’d be dead by the end of the mission,” Loops shot back across the table.

Nines raised an eyebrow. “Well, I’m not dead…”

“Which is wonderful,” Loops assured him.

“And… which commander?”

Loops looked at Fives, who took the opportunity to take a long drink. “You didn’t tell him about the commander?”

When he finished, Fives shrugged, wiping his mouth and smiling. “I think it’s better when you find out organically.”

“Maker, you and Sevenset are two of a kind,” Loops said, shaking his head. “Hey, where’s Echo?”

“Medbay.”

“Is he okay?”

Nines watched the shadow of worry fall across Fives’ face, but he seemed to shake it off. “I don’t know yet.”

Loops dipped his chin, looking sympathetic. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

Fives tried to give an assuring smile, but it didn’t quite land. “Yeah, well… it’s not gonna kill him. So.” He poked the remaining cubes of food on his tray with his fork.

His friend nodded, understanding that, sometimes, injuries weren’t so straightforward to fix. Clones had been decommissioned for some pretty mundane reasons, and everyone knew it. “Well, hey,” he said, “you’re both alive, and so is Nines. You can prove the commander wrong if nothing else.”

“Well, you’ve got a point there.”

“Do you wanna do that now, or…?” Loops asked, slowly raising his wrist comm and opening a text channel.

“We’re in hyperspace,” Nines reminded him.

He frowned, putting his arm back on the table and resting his chin on it. “I hate hyperspace.”

Nines could understand. Usually, he was too busy to complain, but now he was a bit at odd ends. But before he could voice his commiseration, Fives’ comm pinged, and a second later, Fives sprang up from the table, food and tray almost forgotten.

“That was Rex, I gotta go,” he said, already hurrying away to deposit his tray before dashing out the door.

Loops had made no move to follow him, and Nines knew there would be no room in the medbay for them regardless. “Hope it’s good news,” Loops said. Nines nodded.

_____

Fives skidded to a stop, narrowly avoiding crashing directly into Rex in front of Echo’s room in the medbay. Rex grabbed his upper arms to help him stop.

“What is it? What happened?” Fives demanded, only just noticing the Wolfpack medic standing by. He looked regulation except for a large geometric tattoo on the left side of his neck.

“Take a breath, Fives,” Rex told him. “This is Bolt, he was just about to tell us.”

Bolt gestured them into the room, allowing Fives to move past him to stand next to his twin. Echo was still unconscious, although Fives didn’t know if that was because of the extent of his injuries or because of something the medics had done. A blanket was drawn up to his chest, his arms laid out at his sides. His right arm was swathed in bandages almost to the shoulder joint, and Fives could see by the outline of his right leg that it was wrapped up similarly. He reached over to put a hand on his brother’s head, feeling some of the tension he’d still been carrying fade as he ran gentle fingers through his brother’s hair.

“So, how is he?” Rex asked.

“Why is he still unconscious?” Fives added.

Bolt folded his arms, tucking his datapad under one arm. “He’s medically sedated. The burns on his leg are extensive and severe, and it’s better for him to be unconscious for the pain. Most of the time we spent today was getting his leg out of his boots and blacks. They’d melted on in some places. There are some third-degree burns around his knees and ankles where his armor didn’t protect him, but for the most part, they’re all second- and first-degree.”

“But his--it’ll all heal, right?” Fives wanted to know. Batchmate aside, Echo was his partner on the field. He needed to know Echo could still be that, or else Jesse might be getting a bit of informal ARC training to make up for it.

The medic nodded. “It should heal. There might be some nerve damage that will take longer than the rest, but it should be a functional result. Whatever surgeries or grafts will be minor, which is good. As soon as we come out of hyperspace, I will contact your medics, Captain, and let them know to have a bacta tank ready for him when you arrive.”

Rex nodded back, and Fives could see a similar shedding of worries from his shoulders. “Thank you.”

“It’ll still be a couple months until he’s ready for action, but he should be able to return to full duties eventually.” He unfolded his arms and moved towards the door. “You can stay as long as you want.”

Fives nodded, his focus back on Echo now the medic was done. He didn’t notice the captain moving until Rex’s hand landed on his shoulder, and he looked over. “Have a seat. I know you’re gonna be here a while.”

An empty supply crate had appeared behind him. He sat, his hand moving to grasp his brother’s. “I thought I was gonna be the one getting hurt doing something stupid like that.”

Rex breathed a short laugh. “Yeah. Well. Good on you for pulling him out like that. Ascension cable--don’t think I would have thought of that one.”

A tiny smile appeared on Fives’ face. “Guess the ARC training was good for something.”

“Mm… I think that was more Domino training than ARC training.” Rex ruffled Fives’ curls. “Maybe get some sleep while you’re keeping him company, okay?”

He didn’t have any arguments for that. Once Rex was gone, however, he stood up so he could lean over Echo to put their foreheads together, resting his left hand on the side of his brother’s face. He remained like that for a short moment, where he could feel his brother’s slow, even breaths across his face, and to finally let it sink in that Echo was okay. That explosion had been terrifying to watch, and the sight of Echo’s body landing limply on the ground on the end of the cable would have debilitated Fives before ARC training. Then again, they wouldn’t be ARCs if they didn’t have the potential to be better than themselves.

Echo was okay. That was the important thing.

“You’re gonna be right as rain in a few,” he murmured before moving to kiss the spot where their heads had touched. “And I’ll be there the whole time, okay?”

He pulled the crate a bit closer to the bed before he sat back down so he could lay his arms down and rest his head on top of them. He took Echo’s hand in his own, tucked their clasped hands against his cheek, and closed his eyes. Sleep wasn’t far behind.

_____

high fives: guess who’s not dead commander

RedBoiiiii: FIVES!!!! YOU’RE OKAY!!!

DEATH: what do you want, a medal?

high fives: already have one, thanks

Leafs: is everyone else alive too, or just you

Double Trouble: YOU LIVE!!! Now do we get all the goss about the mission??

Leafs: do si do you are a hazard to the gar

Double Trouble: why thank you trees <3

high fives: anyway nines is *also* alive

RedBoiiiii: NINES??

Loopy: and so is echo

d0nut man: oh good nox and pixel were worried about their “handprint buddy”

high fives: that’s adorable he’ll be glad to hear it

DEATH: Where is your plus one?

high fives: … medbay

high fives: also sevenset, i sent you nines’ comm code? didn’t you get it?

RedBoiiiii: oh whoops hang on

d0nut man: what happened to echo???

Leafs: is he okay?

high fives: he got caught in an explosion, got some nasty burns. he’s still in bacta for another half-day, but the medics seem pleased with the progress so… yay?

Double Trouble: damn i’m sorry that sounds awful

RedBoiiiii: nu ;-; fives that sucks but i’m glad the medics are keeping an eye on him

Loopy: yeah that’s good to hear

Loopy: sevens did you get nines in here yet i wanna say hi to my number neighbor

Orangio: hello i’m nines

Orangio: please tell me i can change my own name here

Loopy: nines! hiiii, yeah you can change it

high fives: hey nines

Leafs: welcome to the madness

Double Trouble: we’re not *that* bad :)

d0nut man: … arguable, but welcome anyway

Double Trouble: >:(

DressedtotheNines: thanks guys

Submarine: sorry to hear about your batcher, fives. hi nines

RedBoiiiii: IS THAT FOURS???

Loopy: fours!!

Submarine: yeah sorry i’m not here a lot, but i read all of it

RedBoiiiii: no apologies!! only love!!

Double Trouble: yeah there’s no pressure to use the chat, don’t worry about it

DressedtotheNines: so if i happen to get good footage of cmdr cody like spin kicking grievous or smth, you guys want to see that, yeah?

RedBoiiiii: YES

high fives: pleeeaassseee rex hoards his footage the bastard >:(

d0nut man: i would like to see it

Submarine: yeah me too. general mundi is… he doesn’t do that

DEATH: i’ll bet i could get cadet pictures of cody from some of the alphas

DressedtotheNines: commander death sir i would be honored to help blackmail him for you if you ever need it

DEATH: noted

RedBoiiiii: wait

Double Trouble: anyone else see that

RedBoiiiii: DID WE FINALLY FIND A NUMBER SIXES LIKES????

DEATH: no and while you’re at it kriff off

RedBoiiiii: nines you are magical

DressedtotheNines: ………… cool

I love these lads so much :) @darth-void @23-bears @theultimatesandwich @nintendolover13 @peacefulwizardfox @glubtheflyingfish (lmk if you don't want to be tagged anymore 👍 or if you'd like to be tagged in the future!)

[detroitbydark]

Chapter 11

Characters: Fox/Mouse (reader), appearances from Hound, Thire, Rule, Mace Windu, Yoda, and Padmé Amidala.

Warning: angst (y’all want me to hirt you right?)

A/N: so get ready to read nearly 6000 words of Fox’s self loathing, the CG being supportive vod, Jedi being Jedi, and Mouse being hurt yet again.

Current

The choices had been fresh ink or gut-rot barracks hooch. Fox chose the ink.

He’s down in the levels, he can’t remember which one exactly, far enough from prying eyes and questioning vod, that was all that had really mattered. The artist, a pantoran with a nice portfolio, was busy laying out the design. He can feel the cool transfer as it’s pressed over his heart and he drags in a ragged breath. This was penance. This was the closure he needed. He’d messed up. For two weeks he’d messed up and now any chance he had was gone along with her.

“You wanna talk about it, man?” The tattoo artist asks as he peels away the flimsy leaving the outline on his skin.

“No”

Two weeks earlier

Fox hates the sterile smell of the hospital, the beige walls, the gleaming metal all around. It reminds him of Kamino and a medbay he’d spent more than enough time in. He was never quite as strong or quite as fast as the other CCs in his batch, men that would go on to bear monikers like Gree and Bly and Wolffe. He made up for it in other ways. His mind was sharp, quick to come to a plan of action, he could think on his feet.

He remembers Sargent Kal coming into the CC classroom one day for a talk on urban combat- something that had piqued CC-1010’s interest from the word go- and how by the end of the lesson he’d ended up the star of the day. His observations as they’d talked through scenarios had left Kal remarking that he was “Sly as a Fox” and that the Triple Zero would be a good place for the likes of him. He was only the second in his batch to earn a name and he wore it around like a badge of honor.

Now he didn’t feel so honorable or so sly. He felt a lot of other things though. The psych droid, a loathsome device of he'd ever seen one, had talked him through what had happened in the Supreme Chancellor’s suite. It had questioned him over and over, maybe expecting the answers to change, about what his part in the assassination of Sheev Palpatine had been. He was tired. He wanted to wrap himself around his cyar’ika and pretend the whole day had been a nightmare.

That was impossible, she was somewhere else in the hospital being treated, shoved into a bacta tank. It had only been Rex’s firm voice that had convinced Fox to let the medic’s anywhere near her. When he’d let them take her limp body away from him-

Fierfek.

The handprint- a bloody partial across the left side of his breastplate, was still there.

“Commander Fox” a familiar voice cuts through the silent world of the room“ Much to think about you have“

He recognizes the Jedi Master, Yoda, immediately. There was no one else the ancient green Jedi could be mistaken for.

“I prefer to not“ being around a force wielder was not high on Fox’s current list of things to do.

“Such Is life”

“With all due respect sir,” he can hear the petulance in his own voice but he has neither the energy nor will to rein it in “I didn’t ask for this life.”

“But given to you it was, nonetheless. Choices you must make with what to do with it.“

Fox is quiet and the small Jedi Master matches it until the door opens again and General Windu joins the pair. Fox meets his gaze and the Jedi nods solemnly.

“Much discussion Master Windu and I have had these last few hours-“

“So it’s back to Kamino then? Reconditioning or Termination?” Fox can’t hide the bitterness in his voice. He doesn’t want to. He wants the world -or at least the two Jedi in the room- to see his pain. To feel it like he was.

Yoda sighs and moves to him, walking stick clicking in time with his steps. He hops up on the cold metal table next to Fox in a way that makes Fox think that the walking stick was not really necessary. He fights the urge to move away.

“A great disservice has been done to you, Commander. No, Kamino is not where you belong, deserve punishment you do not.”

The words burn. Fox is trapped between relief and a slow simmering rage, one that demands he be punished for his inability to protect those most vulnerable. First Fives. Now Mouse. He failed because he was weak-

“Stop” General Windu’s voice is firm. The look on Fox’s face must read pure terror because the Jedi huffs softly, “I don’t need to see inside your head to know what you're thinking. It’s all over your face. Do you know the kind of power Sidious possessed? To fight off that kind of insinuation would have been nearly impossible and that was before the chip-“

“The chip?” Fox attempts to rise to his feet but three green fingers press down on his arm. He looks down at the tired, ancient face of the Jedi Master and sits back down. “What of the chip? What has it got to do in all of this?”

The answer is simple. Everything.

Fox sits in cold shock as the Jedi describe to him what they’d learned of Palpatine’s- no, Sidious’ plans for the clone army. He stops them once to go to the bathroom and vomit. It wasn’t just Tup and Fives and him. It was all his vode. The entire clone army programmed to turn on their leaders, their friends with the utterance of a single phrase. He thinks of the hints Bly had made about his Jedi when they’d last spoken.

For a moment it’s more than he can fathom, and he holds a hand up for quiet. The Jedi allow it. He gives himself a minute, just one, before he pulls himself together, before he sits up straight and pushes the anguish, hurt, and the dirty feelings deep down.

“What now?” The implications of what has happened are finally becoming clear “The Republic can’t know the truth. There’ll be chaos in the streets. They’ll turn against the clones entirely” Fox worries more for his brothers than ever before. If the citizens knew…

“Correct you are, Commander” Yoda agrees..

“It needs to stay under wraps. The only people that will ever know it was anything other than an sudden death by natural causes will be us and the others that were in that room. Skywalker, Captain Rex, and-“

“Don’t say her name” it comes out as a growl, “leave her out of this.”

“There she was, Commander. Secrets she must learn to keep.”

Fox’s nails bite into the palms of his hands, “you won’t-“ he can’t bring himself to say the words.

“We will not force thoughts into her head.” Mace clarifies. “From what I’ve heard of her I think she’ll understand our reasoning for secrecy. Her injuries will be said to come from a mugging. You’ll fill out the report. Wrong place wrong time”

Wasn’t that the truth.

Fox nods slowly, “and what of my brothers?”

“Come out the chips must.” Fox flinches when a green finger taps at his temple, “but uncomplicated and quick it is.”

“We will let it be known that the chips are faulty and to continue to use them puts the clones in danger of having unforeseen medical problems.” Mace’s eyes narrow as Fox scoffs. He raises a brow challengingly, “do you think they’d rather know that they were all ticking timebombs? That at any moment they’d be triggered into mindless killers? Pawns?”

A tense moment passes with the two men glaring at one another. Of course Fox doesn’t think that would be any better.

“We’ll begin rotating troops through the nearest medical units capable of removal immediately.” Mace explains. “We can have the entire Coruscant Guard done by the end of the week and it appears with minimal down time. A day, tops.” He explains.

A quick nod is all the acknowledgement Fox can muster. He doesn’t like the idea of keeping the Guard in the dark and he hates having them undergo any medical procedure even more. He wasn’t the only clone who had lingering emotions when it came to the medbay, not by a long shot.

“I’ll go first.”

The Jedi at his side makes an agreeable hum. General Windu nods.

“As I would expect a good leader to do.”

Fox isn’t sure how much he buys into their approval.

13 days earlier

The official story was that Supreme Chancellor Sheev Palpatine had succumbed to a sudden illness. The holonews was ablaze with stories: from the official release to the tabloid fodder. Fellow politicians waxed poetic on him as a man and a leader, someone who stepped forward when the Republic was in its darkest hour to take control of the chaos.

It was said his last words were, “and sorry I couldn’t give more for my people and the galaxy.”

If Fox’s eyes rolled any harder he was sure they’d fly from his head and ping around in his bucket. Sidious was dead. He didn’t deserve the adoration of billions or the high honors of his burial. He was a hu’tuun. The skanah was better suited as feed for the carrion birds than the marble burial chamber he’s laid to rest in with military honors provided by clones he’d have used as weapons against the very Republic they swore to protect.

10 days earlier

Four days without Mouse and Fox feels twitchy. It’s been over a year since he’s gone more than two days without laying eyes on her. Knowing that she was recently released from the bacta tank doesn’t make it any easier. He’d not wanted to see her floating in the tank for a plethora of reasons, the least of which was his own guilt. That didn’t stop him from setting up a guard rotation at her door as soon as he was cleared to return to duty. It also didn’t stop him from demanding regular updates on her care from the kits he was setting up at her room.

Ryk had been present when she’d been taken out of the tank and said she’d seemed in good spirits as she’d slowly come too.

Wren had gently indicated that she’d love some company while she was on bed rest.

Rule had given him a look that screamed, ‘don’t be a scum sucking piece of nerf fodder.’ As he’d explained that Mous’ika had been asking for him.

She’d been asking for him. Even after everything she wanted to see him.

And he couldn’t do it.

He’d made his way twice to the nurses station before turning and making an excuse to leave.

He couldn’t look at her. Sidious’ words still swirled in his head. even though General Yoda had reassured him that he was no longer under the sway of the Sith, the thoughts still lingered.

You were supposed to use her to fuck your baser urges out.

She’s using you to obtain a foothold in the guard.

She’s fooled you all.

The underlying message was unmistakable.

Why would anyone choose to care for a clone?

Fox almost wishes the headaches would return so he could focus on the pain in his head vs. that dull empty ache in his chest, a black hole behind his rib cage, but he hasn’t had one since both the Sith Lord and the chip were removed from his life.

9 days earlier

Bail Organa is voted into the Chancellorship by an overwhelming number of his peers.

It’s the best choice, as far as Fox is concerned. With Senator Amidala announcing a leave of absence to give birth to the best guarded secret since the clone army, it’s the only choice Fox finds acceptable.

Not like anyone would ask his opinion.

Organa is a good man, even if he is a politician. He’s only ever looked out for the Republic, never given in to self indulgent whims, never taken more than he deserved.

Fox touches the fresh scar on the right side of his head gently as Holonet News continues to replay the new Chancellor's inauguration from earlier. Barely more than a week and everything has changed.

General Windu was correct, medical had been able to get through the entire guard in rapid fire. All of his men were sporting matching scars, many were more than a little curious as to the actual reason their chips had been removed. He’s both insanely proud and horribly frustrated at the theories being bandied about. Some far too close for comfort.

They can never know. Nobody can ever know.

But somehow Bail Organa knows.

He’s only had one meeting, early this morning before the inauguration, in private with the new Chancellor but he’d alluded to things that left Fox speechless. He’d known Bail to have friends in high places, but he hadn’t realized how high.

“Think he’ll do better than the last one?”

Thire hovers in the doorway, unmoving until Fox inclines his head toward the open seat across his desktop.

“Can’t be any worse.” There’s no humor in his tone but Thire huffs out a quiet laugh.

There’s a lag in the conversation, not like one has truly begun, and Fox takes a breath before setting down his datapad and flicking the holo off. “How long have we known one another?” He asks looking up at his lieutenant.

“Long enough.”

“So, you and I both know that you're here for something else and It's not just to make quips about the new Alor.”

“I suppose that’s true” Thire’s face gives nothing away. Fox liked that about the shock trooper. He was reserved, yes, but also pragmatic. A problem solver, not ruled by his emotions. Which was all well and good but something about the way he’s staring makes Fox feel like he’s the problem needing solving.

“Spit it out.”

“Go see her.”

Fox raises a brow in his vod’s direction. “Is that an order”

“Respectfully sir” the corner of Thire’s mouth quirks almost imperceptibly before it falls away.

The little shit.

In reality, Fox had known this one going to come from one of his men. He’d expected Rule or Hound, the more brash and aggressive boys, to be the ones but Thire is not a complete shock. He’d never seemed particularly close to Mouse but the lieutenant did play things close to the chest.

“She had a nightmare last night while I was on watch. Woke up crying your name.”

Inside Fox crumbles. No amount of talking to a psych droid was going to fix that feeling. No amount of time would make him feel ok about what he’d allowed to happen to the woman he loved. Thire continues.

“A clone's lot is not much. They decant us. They train us. They ship us out to fight in their war. We live, maybe. We die, more likely. Nothing is given to us.” Thire runs a hand over his head, fingers scratching at the crown. “Sometimes though, a di’kut like you gets a break. That woman in that bed cried in my arms. Talked to me like I was you for over an hour and I let her. You know why?”

Fox has to unclench his jaw, work past the jealous ache rising up in his chest to respond, “why?”

“Because it’s the closest I’ll ever have to feeling that kind of emotion. I’m not ashamed to say I pulled your girl into my lap, held her close and said soft things I didn’t even know I knew into her pretty hair until she calmed down. I was happy to pretend to be your atin’shebs but you know what the real kicker is, Vod?”

Fox’s hands are like vice grips on the edge of his seat, knuckles pale white as a shinies armor. The thought of Mouse hurting is one thing, but to have someone else be the one to comfort her? It tears at him. “What?” He asks through gritted teeth.

“When she calms down she says, “I know you're not him. Thank you for letting me pretend for a minute”.

7 days earlier

He pretends like he doesn’t know where he’s going. Like talking to the kriffing psych droid really had him so out of sorts he didn’t realize he was getting on a turbo lift and heading up three flights after his appointment.

He tries to act like he doesn’t know his feet are carrying him to the room with the familiar red and white sentinel outside the door.

Rule quirks his helmet before snapping to attention.

“Commander Fox, sir?”

“At ease Sargent.” It's late, well past visiting hours but the few sentient nurses and the droids assisting them make no move to rush him along. Perks of the armor.

Rule relaxes and glances through the small transparisteel window on the door behind him before turning back.

“She just had some medicine.” He explains, “pain was getting pretty bad again.”

Fox’s bucket hides his cringe, allowing him to outwardly remain impassive and aloof, his voice even as he asks simple questions about visitors and any possible issues arising.

“No problems here sir. I think I heard her Doc say something about discharge tomorrow. She’s doing ok” what isn’t said hangs in the air.

She’d be doing better if you were with her

“That’s good. That’s good” Fox agrees, readily avoiding the things left unspoken. “Have you been relieved for dinner?”

“I have a ration bar in my pack sir.”

“Do I need to say it?”

The sunny tone of Rule’s voice tells him everything he needs to know. He can imagine the shit eating grin that accompanies it. “I’m not entirely sure what you mean, sir?”

A quick glance up and down the hall shows nothing but gleaming white tile. No staff. No visitors. No one but Rule to bear witness to his moment of weakness.

“Take the night off Sargent. I’ll cover the watch.”

He stares at the emotionless visor for a beat waiting for his kit to argue, for him to make a smart comment.

It doesn’t happen.

Rule rolls his shoulders, stretching slightly as he makes his move past Fox. At the last second, Rule's hand shoots out, resting over Fox’s vambrace. The moment lingers without either speaking until Rule gently pulls the Commander in and knocks his bucket against Fox’s, pressing his forehead to his Commander’s.

Fox, claps a hand behind the sargents head and they sit there frozen for a moment in time, Rule offering more comfort in that one gesture than he’s felt in days. A Keldabe kiss to ease his fragile psyche.

“Alverde.” Rule offers quietly when the pair finally part.

“Sargent” Fox gives a minuscule nod. “Enjoy your night.” He watches the youngster head down the hall until he turns a corner and is gone from sight.

Fox manages to avoid looking in the room for five minutes exactly. He’s able to fight off the pull to enter it for another twenty. The draw of her is too much in the end and he finds himself slipping into her room before the first thirty minutes are even past.

The lights are low and the monitors and electronics surrounding her hum and buzz steadily. Everything is white and stark. His cyar’ika is nearly the same color as the sheet she lays under.

She looks small, and so achingly fragile Fox is afraid the weight of his look alone will break her. She shivers lightly and he lurches into motion, dragging the itchy comforter over her legs and tucking it around her shoulders. Her body stirs as his gloved hand grazes along her cheek.

He freezes as her eyes flutter open. Her pupils aren’t quite right. It seems to take her a moment to piece together what’s going on but when she does the realization that washes over her is visible.

“Fox” his name sounds like a long lost friend rolling from her lips. She struggles to sit up. A look of pain flashes across her face as she twists under the blankets.

“Stop that” he demands impotently, his gloves moving to press gently against her chest. “you’re going to hurt yourself.”

She blinks owlishly up at him in the way only a person on good pain meds can, like she doesn’t quite understand what’s been said and she’s not sure whether she should comply or question it. It’s somewhere between bemused and scared.

He cups her cheek in his hand, “easy precious girl.” He soothes. Mouse relaxes into his touch as his gloved thumb rubs softly. Her eyes flutter shut and he can feel the soft sound she makes against his palm.

This was already far past what he intended. He just wanted to see her, to prove to himself she was really alive and in one piece despite him.

Now, he finds himself already slipping into old habits.

More focused, her eyes open. Her hand slips up and grips his vambrace. Slowly she pulls his hand away from her face. She lets her fingers slip down into and through his. Her voice is thick with sleep when she speaks and Fox has to lean in to hear her.

“I knew you’d come”

Of course she had. Fox wonders if she knew him better than he knew himself. This was always going to happen no matter how many times he’d lied to himself. He pulls his hand away. Mouse’s hangs empty in the air for a moment before she sets it down over her chest.

The quiet burr and hum of the monitors around her are the only sound between them until he reaches up to his bucket and lets the seal pop with a soft hiss.

Her eyes scan his face as he sets the helm off to the side. There’s a question there he can’t decipher. “What can I do?”

A harsh laugh escapes Fox’s lips and Mouse frowns at him.

“I think you’ve done enough, cyar’ika.”

“Fox-“ it’s a scolding tone that holds no weight when she looks like a battered doll in a too big hospital bed. She closes her eyes when he doesn’t give in and offer her more.

The bed dips under his weight as he sits at the edge of it. “I just wanted to make sure you were, ok. Alright?” He holds back from touching her again. It takes an enormous amount of will.

“I’m ok, Fox. Because of you.”

It’s a lie. All of it. It can’t be anything else. “You're in a hospital bed,” he growls, pushing up to his feet and stalking toward the window. He can’t look at her. “You spent days floating in bacta. You-“

“I’m alive.”

“That’s not because of me.”

He hears the ruffle of sheets as he looks out over Coruscant. The lights of the buildings and speeders in the sky lanes, like stars in the polluted evening light.

“Fox-“ her hand touches his arm and he spins to steady her. Anger swells up in him.

“Kriff- Mouse, get back in bed” he orders lowly, “you’re going to get hurt.”

She sways gently on her feet in the too big hospital gown but her jaw is set, “will you listen to me?”

“Will you get back in bed?” Fox pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a deep breath before looking at her again. “Get back in bed and I’ll listen. Please.”

Mouse stands, arms crossed, glaring pointedly. Fox has had enough. Quick and smooth like a tactical insertion he scoops her up. Mouse makes a small noise as his arms slide behind her knees and his other arm cradles behind her shoulders. She breathes heavily as she looks up at him.

“You’re going back to bed.” He covers the small room in just a few steps. When he goes to set her down she slips her arms around his neck and holds on for dear life.

“I’m not getting back in that bed unless you come with me.”

“You’re not in the position to make demands.” But that’s a lie because, with him, she was always in the position to make demands. She just never had to.

“Please, Fox. I just want one good night. You can leave as soon as I'm asleep.”

It’s hard to say if it’s the tired tone of her voice, the smell of her skin so temptingly close, or just his own beaten down need to be close to her, regardless Fox gives in.

“The armor stays on.” He says as he settles into the bed, he tries to keep his boots off the bed the best he can. Mouse curls tighter against him. It can’t be comfortable against the plastoid but to look at her he’d never know. One hand rests along his jaw while the other wraps around his back keeping him from easily disentangling himself.

Fox can’t help himself as he slips one glove off and cards his fingers through her hair, stopping every so often to work out a tangle. Mouse sighs against him.

“Precious girl,” he hums lowly as her fingers trace along the stubble at his jaw, “go to sleep.”

“You're going to leave once I do.”

“Yes, that was the deal.”

“You’re not going to come back.”

Again, he’s struck with how well she knows him. “No, cyar’ika. I’m not.”

6 days earlier

His knuckles are wailing in pain and it feels so kriffing good. His hands, wrapped in protective tape are held tight and safe as he tenderizes the heavy bag in front of him. A low, guttural growl works its way up from his chest with each landed blow.

It’s the first time he’s felt in control in days. Even if it only lasted for his duration in the sparring rooms he didn’t care. When he closes his eyes he doesn’t see Mouse at the end of his blaster, the way her body recoiled and convulsed at the first shot. He doesn’t hear the scream that rips through her when the second bolt burns through her side. He doesn’t dwell on the voice in his head demanding the kill while Fox did everything to drag his near perfect aim away from center mass.

He pictures Sidious’ face on the bag and the pile of sloppy mash his fists were making it into. There’s catharsis in the exertion that a psych droid couldn’t give him.

“Commander, sir?”

Fox turns to see Hound stripped down to just his black under armor pants. He was a burly boy as far as clones went, thicker and more muscular through the torso, next to Hound, Fox looks almost lithe.

Fox pants lightly as he dips to grab a bottle of water and straighten back up. “What can I do for you?”

“I- do you need to-“

Fox watches as the man chooses his words carefully, finally gesturing first toward the mat.

“You wanna go a few, rounds? Looks like you could use it?”

A roll of tape is flipped through the air in answer. Hound catches it smoothly, giving Fox a happy grin as he begins wrapping his hands.

5 days earlier

There’s a neat hole in his wall, fist sized and fresh, less than a week old. Fox pretends like he doesn’t see Chancellor Organa eyeballing it with some amount of apprehension. What he can’t pretend is that a visit from the newly minted Chancellor to his office isn’t a surprise.

“Commander, you can drop the title with me.” The Chancellor says for the second time since his arrival.

“Sir, it’s frowned upon-“

“-not by me”

Fox huffs and closes his eyes to hide the roll of them. “Ok, fine. Can I get you something to drink? Some caf?”

Bail waves off the offer, “I won’t be long and it looks like you're woefully underserved.” He tips his head back toward the door and the empty desk.

A bristle of irritation tingles down Fox’s neck. “She was in the hospital. She was…” the words trail off. Part of protecting his little Mouse was keeping her involvement in the Sidious event quiet.

“I know, Commander.” Bail says quietly, “we share a friend on the council who’s made me aware of many interesting things.”

It feels like he’s being baited. He likes to think Organa wouldn't try to try to weasel information from him but his trust is a very delicate thing at the moment and he’s not willing to give an inch. His loyalty is to his men and the republic, after that only one other person had earned any devotion from him and that was not Bail Organa. At least not yet.

“If there’s anything I can do for her, anything she needs we can make that happen.”

Fox glances at the picture on his desk. It had come by courier earlier in the day. It’s been neatly matted and framed to be hung, a children’s drawing of a small green twi’lek child and him holding hands. He’d stared at it on his desk in silence for far too long before he felt something ugly bubble up. Now he had a hole in the wall. He hoped the picture would cover it.

Fox continues to look at the picture. He needs a second to pretend like he knows what Mouse needs. He doesn’t listen to the nagging voice inside of him saying it to him. He hates that voice, would smother it if he could.

“She needs time to heal.”

“I can make that happen.”

“Thank you.”

Earlier this day

“Senator Amidala” Fox greets the senator at the door, “this is a surprise. If I keep receiving politicians in my office I’m going to have to have it made more suitable.”

The senator gives him a bright smile, “it’s good to see you Fox.”

He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, “it’s good to see you too Padmé.”

They were friends, of a sort. They’d seen enough together that Fox would gladly file her under battle buddies in his short list of friends. She looks lovely, as always, absolutely glowing. Her hand rests softly over the growing baby bump she was now proudly displaying.

“You look wonderful. Congratulations on the coming Ik’aad.” He offers gesturing toward her belly. His eyes linger and he remembers laying Mouse across his bed, placing kisses in a ring around her naval and imaging what it would be like someday when he-

Fox gives his head a quick shake and refocuses on the senator.

“Thank you.” He watches her eyes travel to the child’s drawing on the wall behind his desk before returning to him. “And how are you doing?”

“As well as can be expected. Chancellor Organa keeps a busy schedule and he’s insistent that I go with him. He’s got a lot of ideas and he asks my opinion. It’s different… but it’s nice.”

Padmé slips into the chair across from him.

“That’s wonderful” but she doesn’t sound like it’s wonderful. She sounds like she was here on a mission that he hasn’t been briefed on. He raises a brow at her. They’ve known each other long enough that she should know to just come out with it.

“We’re leaving for Naboo today. I want to have the baby in the lake country. It’s beautiful and peaceful.” She lets out a tired laugh, “and far away from the prying eyes of the holonet news.”

“They’ve been very… interested in you as of late” he offers diplomatically.

Another small laugh, “to say the least” Padmé sobers. “I just wanted to make sure you were ok with her going?”

Confusion must show on his face. Her?

Padmé frowns gently, the look of pity is out of place on her serene features, “you weren’t told, were you?”

“I’m afraid you’ll need to speak clearly.” Fox tries to bite back the tension but it slips into his voice.

She says Mouse’s name. Her real name.

“The Chancellor asked if we would take her with us. That she needed a place to finish recovering.” Padmé is watching his face. She’s trying to gauge his reaction.

He tries to give her nothing.

“She’s an amazing woman. She said if she went then she had to be useful. She’s going to be my assistant while I’m on leave-“

Fox holds up a hand. “She’s excellent at what she does. You’ll never be in better hands.”

“What about you?”

“I’m not her keeper. Mouse deserves to be safe and happy.” He shoots her a forced smile. “That’s not with me.”

Current

He had the rancor etched into his arm after Thorn had been killed in action on a mission Fox was supposed to have led. It was an inside joke they’d heard as shinies. Something about a Jedi and a rancor walking into a cantina. He can’t remember the punchline. It wasn’t funny anyways.

The Pantoran works the needle over his freshly shaven chest. Back and forth, outlining and filling. Pressing the ink into his skin to permanently mark him with another mark of regret, penance. Everytime he looks in the mirror, stripped down from his armor and his blacks he’ll see the reminder of what never was supposed to be, the thing that he went after when he knew it wasn’t allowed. The love that nearly destroyed the person he cared for beyond all others.

“So, this picture is pretty wicked” the Pantoran says conversationally. He glances back and forth from the reference picture Fox gave him, a partial hand print pressed against his armor, the fourth and fifth finger only partially visible and the heel of the hand smeared red. “Was it done in ink?”

“No. Blood.”

The Pantoran makes a sound of understanding. The buzz of the tattoo gun fills the quiet.

Seconds, minutes, hours it’s all the same as Fox sits still as stone in the chair, the press of the needle intimately familiar.

He thinks of Mouse on a shuttle to Naboo.

This was what he’d needed. Mouse far away, somewhere safe. Somewhere no one could hurt her. Where he couldn’t hurt her. No matter what he’s told he still doesn’t believe there isn’t something in him that can be persuaded, to be flipped on, that won’t harm her.

He needed to focus on his job, his men, the Galactic Republic. There was no world in which he and Mouse would work and it was better that she wasn’t there to know that.

“Alright, mate.” The Artist sets the gun down and claps his hands once before rubbing them together. “You’re all set. Why don’t you take a looksy in the mirror while I grab the bacta gel and a dressing?”

Fox nods and pushes himself up. His back is stiff from laying still and he takes a moment to stretch and twist before stepping in front of the mirror. His eyes trace the ink. It’s a perfect replica of the picture, deep vibrant red fingers pressing into his armor, only now pressing into his heart. A reminder of what happens when he becomes selfish. When he wants more than the greater design allows for.

“It’s perfect.”

[aces-to-apples]

Written for Day 3: Role-Swap of Codywan Week 2020 @codywanweek

Here on AO3

Rating: Mature Category: M/M Relationship: CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi Additional Tags: no betas we die like man, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Jedi Cody, Clone Culture, Jedi Culture, With a twist!, Rex Is The Snotty Former-Apprentice

“i know that i’m a handful, baby”

“Have you considered wearing one of those little wrist straps made for holo-game remote controls?” Commander Kenobi asks as the door slides open, holding up Cody’s lightsaber with a smug little grin. “At the rate you lost your robes, General, I’m worried this poor fellow may be next.”

Strictly speaking, a Jedi High General should be too civilized to sigh at their nat-born commander’s antics.

That doesn’t actually stop Cody from sighing. “Are you planning to keep running your mouth like that for long?” he asks, eyeing his commander from head to toe. “Because I was prepared to lose a bit more than my robes with you before I opened the door, Commander.”

The way Kenobi flutters his eyelashes in a blatant attempt to look enticing should not work as well as it does.

He grabs the lightsaber with one hand and Kenobi’s waist with the other and tugs him over the threshold. A quick key-command to lock the door and then Cody has his commander right where he wants him: in his arms, pressed right up against the durasteel wall, with no paperwork or council meetings or snotty former-apprentices to keep him from kissing Obi-Wan as long and hard as he wants.

And, Force, does he want Obi-Wan.

The Jedi are expected, and frankly encouraged, to form relationships within the Order rather than seeking sex or romance elsewhere. It's traditionally considered an in-house matter. Not precisely a rule, but with unit cohesion considered paramount, it's definitely the norm.

That Cody's taken up with his own nat-born commander isn't quite frowned upon but he knows better than to flaunt it. Alpha-17 has always had a relatively soft spot for Cody but… if it comes to light that they're involved, his loyalty could be questioned. Even the Grandmaster of the Order won't object on his behalf.

Cody isn't compromised, though. He doesn't need reconditioning, and he doesn't need a new commander.

What he needs, at this particular moment, is to get Obi-Wan out of his useless rank robes and into Cody's bed. He needs to forget about how poorly negotiations are going, and how deeply stressed he is. He needs to be distracted and Obi-Wan Kenobi is a very lovely and willing distraction.

Obi-Wan mutters the same uncomplimentary things about Cody’s armor that Cody is thinking about Obi-Wan’s robes in their race to undress each other. Neither of them really cares for the trappings of the other’s original functions—Cody’s armor makes negotiations more fraught than they need to be and Obi-Wan’s robes don’t protect him from anything but prying eyes.

They have a grand time stripping them away, though, until they’re wearing nothing but their skin and scars.

Cody isn’t too proud to admit that his commander can drive him wild, in circumstances personal as well as professional. The easy way he lets Cody move him where he wants, the sneaky little tricks he uses to get Cody to move him where Obi-Wan wants, the soft hands and harsh kisses, the sweet nothings and sincere everythings that he whispers into Cody’s ear while they move together, is just a bit too much.

It all adds up to Cody panting I love you, I love you, I love you frantically into his commander’s ear when he comes, not minding that Obi-Wan chuckles and finishes himself off without responding. That wasn’t a new development, any of it.

Obi-Wan had been surprised, flattered, and a bit uncomfortable the first time they’d fallen into bed together. Nat-borns, Cody soon learned, tended not to speak about their love quite so frankly, nor so quickly. It didn’t make a lick of sense then—and still doesn’t, really—but Cody explained in turn that clones were trained to readily become Attached to their comrades and use those feelings to their advantage.

If a Jedi loved the people around them, they’d fight harder to protect them.

And that didn’t even touch on the Force.

Once the war began in earnest and the Jedi Generals were sent out into the field in droves, it became clear that the average being had no understanding of the Force, of its non-linear nature. They didn’t understand how a person in tune with the Force could forge such strong bonds to those they’d only just met, and found it off-putting. Cody fell three-quarters of the way in love with Obi-Wan the second they met, just because the Force showed him that he would be in love with him later.

The emotions of the future bleeding into the present, making everything more intense.

He walked surely and deliberately the rest of the way, choosing to love his snarky, former-pirate, rapscallion of a commander with his eyes open. And he didn’t shy away from that once Obi-Wan showed his own interest.

It isn’t the same for him, though, Cody knows.

Even with his aptitude the Force, which Alpha-17 had noted at the start of the war and passed onto Cody before they’d been assigned to each other, Obi-Wan has been burned. He needs time and acceptance and the kind of care that comes without expectation.

Cody is happy to provide.

He doesn’t want Obi-Wan to return the sentiment because he feels obligated, and told him so during that first awkward conversation. Clones fall hard and fast—that was just a fact, part of their culture and their nature—but reciprocation isn’t a necessary part of that.

It’s enough to feel their own love, everything else is just an added bonus.

Breathing heavily, Cody nuzzles his commander’s temple, pushing waves of desire and affection gently across Obi-Wan’s shields. Nothing demanding, or invasive, just… there. If he wants it.

Obi-Wan shifts and moves until they’re wrapped up together in Cody’s bed and then, hesitantly, lowers his shields. Not all of them, not completely, but just enough that Cody can get a sense of what he’s feeling without stomping all over his privacy.

Hardly daring to breathe, Cody pulls away just far enough to meet Obi-Wan’s gaze.

“Really?” he asks, curious.

Obi-Wan looks as cocksure as ever, but Cody can feel his uncertainty beneath the facade. “Yes,” he says, not swallowing even though his mouth has gone dry. “I’m sure. I… love you. Too.”

Carefully—so, so carefully—Cody slides a hand into his hair and pulls him in for a kiss. If he has anything to say about it, it won’t end for a long, long time. Any of it.

[fafulous]

New Orleans’ Auror (TOxHP) Chapter 15

Co-Author: @sweetpea-cc

Chapter 1 | Chapter 14

"Willow?"

"Yes?" She looked up to the swirls of his brown eyes as she felt his grip tighten around her arm slowly. They walked towards the cemetery together as Elijah's worry spiraled with every step he took towards the witches coven. But then he looked at Willow, still holding the sunflowers and looking at it with so much adoration.

"Just stay close alright?"

She nodded her head at Elijah. Willow never really understood his concern about her visiting the place, but she pushed it aside in sheer excitement. He, on the other hand, had no good feelings about taking her to the Cemetery. The witches, apart from his sister Freya, gave him a very negative vibe. But he knew the reason, the witches despise the vampires, especially the Mikaelsons and their loved ones.

Especially after Davina's sacrifice.

On their way, Willow decided to break the nervous silence that was written all over Elijah's face. It was like her curiosity kept jumping to places and people alone.

"May I pop in a question?"

"Go ahead," he said while having a constant awareness of his surroundings.

"What was Klaus' accusation towards me about?"

Elijah didn't stop walking but slowed his steps, not letting go of Willow's hand in his elbow. He hesitated quite a bit, not wanting to involve his newly found interest into the affairs of his family, but deep inside he knew - she was already involved.

"It's rather complicated."

"Elijah. I only do complicated. Nothing is simple in my life," she smirked.

Elijah couldn't recall a statement more relatable than what Willow had just uttered.

"Alright, but you must take into consideration that neither me or Kol or Rebekah-"

She waited for him to complete his statement of trust towards her, where he completed it with stating that even Klaus found it completely hideous of him to not trust you.

"Wow Elijah," she huffed with a little laughter, "that's really appreciative of your family to trust me, but as you were saying?"

Elijah realized for the first time in the centuries, he may have let his tongue loose for a few moments of rambling. "Pardon me," he continued after a long pause, "As you know already, my brother was under the impression that you were a threat to our family."

"Yes, I'm aware,"

"Yes, unfortunately, it just added on to the existing predicament"

"And that is?"

"That my darling is a story for another day" he sighed, "But just to give you a superficial glance, Marcellus and the Mikaelsons are not on the same side of the scales"

"Oh," mouthed Willow, "It was quite obvious actually. Neither of you spoke much in that dreadful party."

Elijah left a small snigger for he himself was not fond of that party, except for the part where Kol introduced Willow to him. They walked along a curvy lane which indicated the turning to the cemetery.

"Then what is this Papa Tunde's blade that Klaus spoke about?"

Elijah stiffened harder, only this time he made his reply quicker for he felt obligated in letting the Willow know, for he believed she had to know what was happening.

"Well, it's a very powerful weapon that can subdue an Original for long periods of time, created by the covens long ago. It causes one to be in constant agony, especially my family,"

Willow winced, for she hated torture and constant painful acts, no matter who she had to encounter. In her Auror life as she remembers, only rarely has she tortured someone. But being tortured...

"The blade was in Niklaus' possession," Elijah continued, "but now it no longer is. Without any proper evidence, my naive brother thinks that it is with Marcellus. With that and your recent acquaintance with Marcel,"

Just when Elijah was thinking of the politest way to convey his brother's accusation-

"Klaus Mikaelson thinks that I'm working with Marcel Gerard."

Elijah subtly nodded his head, too ashamed of his brother's thoughts. She was too pure to be associated with his family.

"How unsurprising. Don't worry" she clenched his elbow firmer, "I have had a fair share of naive and threatening accusations. It's no big deal really."

"Yes but-"

"Galloping Gargoyles."

It was well understood that they have reached the place. The Cemetery oozed of eeriness but had this mysterious beauty to it.  

Standing at the entrance Willow could see the big, structured archaic tombstones. They were as grey as the ghosts that lurked in Hogwarts. The absence of moonlight and the deafening silence made it even scarier, but strangely it attracted her while she stood there in the bitter cold of the night.

Why it attracted her made her feel irksome.

Elijah looked at her gaping in awe for the place which he loathed the most. Loathe would perhaps be an understatement for the Mikaelsons. Here was the place his niece was planned to be sacrificed in lesser than an hour after her birth, here was the place his mother trapped him and blew him the truth of Tatia's murder and here was the place that trapped him inside his dreadful red door. This place gave him nothing but good memories.

But nevertheless, he was here. He was here for her. Just for her short-lived happiness.

"Curious really. Why did Marcel ask me to stay away from this place?" Willow asked in her thickened British accent from the cold bitterness. She tugged on to Elijah's trench coat even tighter.

"This is where the formidable witches of New Orleans come about to do their infamous revolting tricks and what not..."

Willow automatically shrugged at his statement. Was it possible he thought about all other witches the same way?

"...at least the majority is," he completed. He glanced at Willow sideways and noticed her quivering in spite of his thick trench coat over her shoulders. Elijah neared her wrapping an arm around her in attempts in offering her comfort.

Willow relaxed in his arms, his body warmth helping her in more ways than she could have ever imagined. But despite it all, her eyes never left the cemetery, especially the from the one particular tombstone that had candles lit around it.

"We should get going. It sure is getting cold," he muttered.

"C-can't we go inside?" she asked her curiosity peaking without any boundaries.

Elijah's face became stern, a wave of protective emotions washing over him, "I understand your inquisitiveness but it's really not-"

The loud buzzing of Elijah's phone, the only sound recognizable in the eeriness, made him pause his admonitory statement. He took away his arms around Willow's shoulder, unaware of Willow's dazed attraction to the location in front of them.

Excusing himself for a moment, he took out his phone and looked at the caller's name, dreadfully.

Hayley

He rolled his eyes. Honestly, it was followed by a relaxed gulp. After his unwilling breakup with her, neither of them entertained calls with each other, let alone seeing each other occasionally while picking up and dropping Hope to the compound.

Of all the days to call, she had to call him on the day when he finally took a decision to make a small step to move on.

Elijah huffed for he knew he had to take the call, her ego was too large for her to make any efforts in reconciling a friendship at least. Hoping there was no emergency-

"Hayley"

"Forgot where you were meant to be tonight huh?"

"This conversation would be non-existent if you perhaps knew me well"

"But clearly I'm having one now"

Elijah was supposed to pick up Hope from Hayley's home. Not able to do so, he requested one of his siblings to do the needful.

"I've made the necessary arrangements. Kol or Klaus should be there anytime."

"Why aren't you here?"

"I never knew that it was a part of my errands to let you know about my whereabouts. Pray tell me since when?”

Elijah was losing his patience. There was a pause on the other side, probably an eagerness to know more about her ex-boyfriend.

"Now if there is anything else, Hayley, I would love to continue my day with someone who I'm not talking to over the phone"

Elijah didn't mean to be so salty, but he had to because he was getting too impatient to get out of this place safely with Willow. In his impatience, however, he turned around to look at Willow.

Except she wasn't there.

Before Hayley could even exchange her reply to him, he cut the call abruptly, for his heart never beat so fast.

He only walked a few steps away from Willow, his back to where she was standing. All this time while speaking to her, he never faced Willow for which Elijah mentally berated himself.

"Willow?"

He was replied with the sound of owls and crickets making their nocturnal noises.

"Willow! Where are you?"

Elijah called out with all the hope in the world. It was only logical that Willow would have gone inside the Cemetery, so he decided to do so. But it wasn't so easy, was it?

He felt his face slam against an invisible boundary, later remembering that this place was no longer welcomed for the Vampires. He could see the sunflowers that he had handed over to Willow crushed and strewn all over the floor inside the stone pathways of the cemetery.

"Not another boundary" he whispered while biting his teeth in frustration.

Elijah was growing frazzled as time went by, desperately calling out for her name. He didn't want to lose her on the day of their first date. Who loses their date in the first place?

He panted, sweated for he went around the cemetery if not inside it, calling her name loudly like a chant. Willow's name echoed and echoed, only for it not to be reciprocated by her.

In the heat of the moment, desperate to get to her, he foolishly forced himself on the invisible boundary. He pushed himself, feeling the resistance of the boundary's magic on his whole body. There wasn't a chance in hell that he would break the boundary, but he was willing to.

When it became too much, he roared out loud while he tried to enter the place with all his might. He didn't care that his eyes and nose were dripping with drops of blood. He wanted her. He wanted Willow.

"No!"

And then everything fell into Oblivion for this ancient vampire

--

Was she in trance? Maybe. But was something suspicious? Definitely yes.

As an Auror, Willow was equipped with the skills and abilities required to grow in her field, but along with it came a trait she both loved and loathed - intuition. And right now, it wasn't very helpful for she soon realized she was in a place that was not meant for her.

But she couldn't keep her feelings aside. It was too difficult for her. She could sense it.

Sense her world's magic.

Willow didn't tell Elijah, for he would rush her out of the place immediately. She had to know what was inside the Cemetery since the coincidences were all too much for her to handle.

Taking one glance at Elijah, who was busy away with a phone call, she seized the opportunity and entered the cemetery stealthily, clenching on to Elijah's long trench coat towards the light. She whispered the Muffliato charm, in case if there were any sort of vampires or witches sensitive to sounds made. Ironically, she wasn't able to hear any sort of sound. She placed the sunflowers neatly over one of the tombs, as she made her way inside.

As she went deeper and deeper, the ground of dead witches gave her a spook realizing quickly again that she was not supposed to be here. Although she was a witch, she wasn't their kind and they weren’t hers.

She came across a clearing and a particular tomb, that had lights lit dimly like an inside room. Speculating whether or not she stood outside for a few moments, trying to figure out any familiar sounds.

Peeping in slightly, she made out that the room was deserted, with the middle of the narrow room being decorated with an old wooden legged table. Taking one last glance of her surroundings she made her move into yet another unknown area. She silently wished not bumping into anything that she wasn't aware of.

Nearing the room, it was filled with eerie skulls jutting out of the walls while there were some ancient candelabras that were no longer functional for use to illuminate the room. The whole room gave a cave effect, giving Willow a feeling that if not for the Muffliato charm, her footsteps would have echoed in the room.

Foolishly Willow went up to a table to see a white fang like structure. One that reminded her of the Basilisk fang she has seen in books and pictures. It had engraved veins going at the end of it, giving it a look of a very archaic powerful blade. Could this be-

"I knew you'd come here, Scarlett"

Involuntarily before turning around to the statement, her hands automatically went ahead to draw her wand inside her slit. But nevertheless, she was too late.

As she turned around, a familiar spell took over her, ropes encircling her body tightly right till her thighs. Her arms were stuck to the sides tightly wrapped by the rope, so much that she found it difficult to breathe. Her hands didn't pain a lot, thanks to Elijah's trench coat.

Willow failed to find an opportunity to speak for the minute she tried to ask who he was, she felt a gush of harsh wind sending her back forcefully to the stone wall and slid down instantly as a result.

Her back getting most of the damage, she kept head low with eyes closed, trying to get the smallest chance to breathe. Willow could feel her bruises growing on her back, wincing slightly. She panted, her head circling with no idea as to what was going on.

Slowly she put her head back on the stone wall behind her, she looked at the woman in front of her. The only thing between them was the table that held the white blade, surprisingly not affected by any of the violent attacks.

A petite, brown woman with clothes as black as the grim reaper stood before her. Conveniently her face was covered with a black hood, only her red painted lips set on display with an evil smirk that Willow was familiar with. She felt too dizzy to notice if she held a wand or not.

"What...who are you?"

"Foolish woman. Pathetic, really. You're quite the predictable one."

Willow scrunched her eyebrows in confusion in failure to understand the context. She also tried to reach out to her pocket, but in vain for the ropes were tied too tightly.

"Always at the wrong time at the wrong place aren't we Scarlett?"

"That will always be my pleasure," Willow huffed, her sarcasm not ceasing even in a threatening situation. She tried so hard to reach her wand and even tried concentrating on her nonverbal spells. But it didn't seem to do the trick.

The woman came closer, toying with the white blade in her hands. She picked it up and walked up to Willow, looking down at her with arrogance and disgust. "It's not been even a week and looks, a romantic spree with a Mikaelson."

Willow didn't respond for all her focus was on retrieving her wand.

The lady crouched down in front of Willow, her hood still covering her visage. She toyed with Willow's head with the blade. "Don't even try darling. Spells won't work. This is a special rope which doesn't let you do your magic."

"Oh yeah, thanks for the knowledge," coughed Willow, ceasing her effort, "tell me where I can get these so that next time I can use it on you,"

"Ah yes," she traced her finger over Willow's lips, "I was warned about your impulsive yet sarcastic linguistics. He said it could be very vexing at times."

"Uh huh," said Willow, finally able to focus the lady in front of her, "who is that very unfortunate, unlucky chap?"

"Aren't you keen to know? Although I will tell you who if you tell me why you are here?"

"Don't tell me you don't know why I am here when you have the bare knowledge of knowing me!" Willow while listening to her question, was observing the woman's feature and hidden face all this while.

"You see Scarlett, I'm not like other captors," she snarled, "I have zero tolerance for sass so." Without any warning, the lady plunged the knife swiftly into Willow's left thigh.

Pain shot through her thigh like a lightning, wincing only little to not let her weakness show. But as she tried to ignore and neglect the pain, she felt every ounce of her energy ooze out of her body.

Before the woman got up and walked away from Willow, she kissed her forehead. Willow could feel the vindictiveness and felt polluted from her contact. The clicking of the woman’s heels and her breath was the other only sound that echoed through the tomb.

"My oh my," she whispered, "I saw those beautiful sunflowers you kept there waiting. Too bad, I crushed them. You do really have the gall to date a Mikaelson on this moonlit night, especially the noblest of them all. What a smart way to earn their trust. I should have thought this to myself."

Willow wanted to smack her right there and then, if not physically at least with words, but she has so little energy she felt like she was slowly being choked, air disappearing around her quickly.

"Wha-do-you-"

"In a couple of hours, you won't see and sense, won't breathe-"

The woman gave an eerie pause as Willow felt her heart racing unnaturally. She felt her body tense up at both fast and slow paces irregularly, which kept her on the edge at the moment

"And as you take your last breath alone in this dark place like your life Willow, you will remember him," she grinned like a death eater, "he sends his regards Scar."

Willow felt her heart stopped for she knew who she was referring to, for only one person in the whole wide world called her that. But it couldn’t be possible, she wondered, and her heart sank immediately. And as she thought about him, she felt thinking too was draining her energy.

“Oh, the Mikaelsons are going to be in for a treat and Elijah,” she sniggered, “is in for another heartache.”

Saying that last statement, Willow could see with her slowly fading vision that the woman made her way out of the dingy tomb.

The pain became more unbearable, deducing from the woman’s words earlier that she was probably poisoned. Every inch of her skin was covered with sweat, realizing that her end was probably near. She used all her will power to stay awake focusing on the light of the candles, while simultaneously thinking of a way to escape. She could call Lucy, but Willow pushed it away, for she would rather die if anything happened to any one of her family members on her cost.

Just as her eyes were about to shut to unconsciousness, an idea spurted from her still functioning head.

This rope disables me from conjuring spells, but it doesn't stop me from- Getting a brief level of briskness, Willow mustered all her draining strength. She knew what she had to do after all. -- Rebekah and Elijah looked at Freya and Kol working their best in trying to track Willow’s location. It had been merely almost an hour since Elijah woke up from his unconscious state at the cemetery. He knew it was worthless trying to enter into the restricted area and so decided to go to his elder sister. Coming back and telling them those dreadful words made the Mikaelsons heart stop.

"What happened Elijah? Why do you look-"

"I've lost her."

"You what?" asked another voice from the top of them. Standing at one of the railings, Klaus looked down at them with shock on his face too, for he too was infinitesimally growing to like her.

Kol took out his handkerchief and handed it over to Elijah to wipe the blood out of his cheek and ears, as he narrated the events that took place. He decided only to mention the brief details of their date by respecting their privacy and how Willow was keen to visit the cemetery.

Elijah admitted how his attention was short-lived thanks to Hayley and he even mentioned the strange glances received near the flower shop while they made their way to that dreadful place where he would never go.

"That woman has no sense of timing," huffed Kol, "Of all the times to be concerned, she had to call you tonight huh."

"Leave her,” convinced Rebekah “We'll do something about it brother. Nothing is going to happen to her as long as we’re here."

"Any luck?"

"Nothing,” said an exhausted Freya after chanting around five spells that were on her fingertips, “I was able to trace some alien energy from the compound, but now it’s not there."

“It must be her then,” said Elijah, who was getting restless. It had been too long since Willow had disappeared. He didn't dare to check up on Lucy the elf since that would almost bring the roof down. But he didn't have a choice if it were going to be like this for the next few minutes.

Kol pointed out something else from his mother's old grimoire. "What about this Freya?"

"Nope that wouldn't work but- why do you have that Klaus?"

"Someone is down," Klaus whispered to all of them.

Without much thinking, all of them rushed down to the foyer in hopes of seeing someone who they hoped to see. Elijah silently prayed to a non-existential being who he believed so, even if it would get Willow in front of her alive. But strikingly, it wasn't Willow Scarlett.

It was a Doe.

"Oh," shrugged a defeated Kol, "it's a beautiful doe."

Not expecting it to be an animal, Rebekah groaned. "Oh, bloody hell, when did the compound become a zoo now?"

But Rebekah wished she could retract her words for they saw closely at the doe. It was distressed, breathing ruggedly as it limped while it neared the Mikaelsons. Its once beautiful eyes looked droopy and half closed as if nearing its dear end.

"Don't go near it, it could be some sort of trap!"

Elijah on the other hand, not heeding to any of Klaus' words, went up to the Doe. He felt this strange appeal to this limping animal. He lowered himself, caressing the doe while cautiously checking for any other injuries than the limp. Stroking its forehead, the doe came even closer to him, placing its shaky head in the crook of Elijah's head.

Stunned by the creature's affection, he had no other choice but to enclose the deer in a hug. He felt the creature relax under his touch, while all the other Mikaelsons were vigilant by looking at what was going on.

Elijah closed his eyes and took a small breath, where he reminisced a similar incident of an injured animal embracing him when he was just a mere teen in the forest. But his nostalgic path was cut short of the doe, emitting a familiar scent to Elijah.

He opened his eyes and checked the Doe again physically. While his palms stroked the soft yet thin fur of the animal, he felt something catch between the middle of his fingers. And when he saw it, his eyes widened.

"Freya, what is the meaning of this?"

She crouched and looked at Elijah’s finger. “Elijah, it's just a yellow petal.”

“Not just a petal,” said Elijah his faith resurfacing, “it’s a sunflower petal. Before we went to the cemetery I gifted her a bouquet of sunflowers, which I told you were- “

“-Strewn and crushed all over the floor,” said Kol. Everyone looked at the doe and at Elijah with a confused look. Klaus came forward and took a deeper look at the Doe’s injured leg. “It has been stabbed and not shot. This is not right”

“Who stabs a Doe? The last time I heard animals were stabbed were by witches who sacrifice-“

Kol stopped saying the statement as a lightning-like thought struck his mind. But Rebekah took the limelight which shook the Mikaelsons.

“It possibly can’t be- It possibly can't be Willow, can it?”

--

Taglist: @ranger-treaty @poemfreak306 @kickasskittie23 @spunky-89 @kpoplover1306xdepressedgirl315 @theroyalbrownbarbie @shanty-lol @bluetink2002 @henrietteoaks @literally-anythin @leximarie66 @naomi02hook @heythereelejah @evyiione @wolf-lover-bookdragon @mschellehitt @sassyandclassyx @sieg-phantomhive @the-fandom-ness @indahzahra @marauderette130 @thegingerthatwaited @magnificentsoulecollector  @alishlieb @booktvmoviefangirl (IF I HAVE LET OUT ANYONE PLS MESSAGE ME ASAP/ ALSO OPEN)

AAAAH I KNOW ITS BEEN SOO LONG. ISMY TAGLIST ALIVE??

If you guys are I am so fucking sorry okay. Having a couple of terrible months followed by Writers block :(

I hope people are still reading this and give some feedback!!! :D

AGAIN I LOVE U ALL SO MUCHHHHHHHHHHH

[stillthewordgirl]

LOT/CC fic: (I Don’t Believe In) Destiny, ch. 3 of 11

Leonard Snart is back, finally pulled from the timestream where he's spent the last four years. But he wasn't alone, and the repercussions of that will echo through the Legends, the Time Bureau, and beyond.

And maybe, just maybe, they'll bring everything around full circle.

---

Posting a little early!

You can also read here at AO3 or here at FF.net.

Chapter title: For So Many Different Directions

Ava ends her latest call to the Waverider, lowering her head into her hands with a sigh. Over the past few years, she’d thought her relationship with the Legends had been getting better, even with her breakup with Sara, but it seems they’re nearly back to square one now. All because none of them seem to be able to get past the, well, past.

She understands their dislike of Druce, somewhat. But for a group of misfits who’ve always been about gathering people who need a second chance, the depth of the hatred seems a bit inexplicable.

She wonders wistfully again why Director Hunter hadn’t told the bureau, told her, about the tools the Time Masters had had at their disposal. He’d gone to so much trouble making the bureau a body that was responsible and careful. Hadn’t he trusted them after all?

Her thoughts are interrupted by a noise at the door, and Ava lifts her head, carefully composing her features as the guard bring Druce in, stationing themselves by the door as the man himself approaches her.

“Master Druce,” she says formally, clasping her hands. “How are you?

The man inclines his head to her. He’s a little worse for wear—holding one arm stiffly, and with the dark color of a bruise on one side of his face. She’d known that, but they haven’t yet had a chance to do an in-depth examination of what had happened earlier, when the alarms had alerted everyone to someone breaking out of Druce’s quarters. Someone who, as it turned out, hadn’t been Druce.

“Well enough,” the man says stiffly. “Given that I was attacked in my own quarters by a murderer and time criminal.”

Ava nods. She’s been looking at the security camera videos from the hallways and comparing them to Time Bureau records, and she’s pretty sure what’s coming. Still, she wants Druce to tell her, wants his full take on the matter.

“You said a portal, like one created by a time courier, opened in your quarters,” she says, “and this intruder emerged, attacked you, and ran.” She pauses. “That’s all the information we exchanged in the middle of the chaos. Now, tell me more. You recognized this person, didn’t you?”

Druce scowls—not, she thinks, at her. “It was the one who blew up the Oculus itself,” he says, cold anger in his voice. “The man named Snart, who looked in my eyes and taunted me as he destroyed it all. All my ships. All my men.” His eyes narrow. “He must have been trapped in the timestream, like me.”

Ava thinks of Sara’s careful questions about the timestream around the Vanishing Point. Had she been thinking of this Snart, who’d caused the explosion?

She’s met Leo Snart of Earth X, who’d struck her as a good man and a responsible one, but this version seems altogether different. A crook and a killer, she knows from the records. Not a good person. But then why had Sara asked about him? Had she wanted to warn Ava?

And why had she fled the bureau with him? Something isn’t adding up. Ava bites her lip despite herself. Sara might be in danger, and she can’t figure out why the Legends aren’t even concerned. It’s like they’re too fixated on stymying her to just listen.

“We’ll find him,” she tells Druce. And Sara.

The former Time Master nods, once, regally. Ava isn’t particularly pleased at his growing tendency to behave as though he’s the one in charge here, but she ignores it, choosing to simply dismiss him by looking downward and reaching for some paperwork.

The guards step forward and Druce turns with them, heading for the door. But right before he steps out, he turns back toward her and clears his throat.

“This man,” he says when Ava glances up, “Snart. He is, after all, a thief. And he…stole something. From the Vanishing Point. It is important that we regain it.”

Ava frowns at him, puzzled. “What?”

But Druce is gone now, with his escort back to his rooms, and Ava can’t help feeling like she’s the one who has, after all, been dismissed.

---

Leonard had stretched out on the mattress and fallen asleep near-instantly, a measure of how exhausted he’d been. Sara, rather tired herself, watches him a few minutes, trying to wrap her brain around the fact that he’s back, really truly back, then lies down herself with a sigh. She expects a bit of insomnia, considering all the thoughts rattling around in her brain, but she also falls asleep, quickly and thoroughly.

She’s not sure how long it’s been when she wakes again, to utter darkness and a noise of strangled terror coming from the man on the other side of the mattress.

Sara shakes her head roughly, hearing another cry, then hesitates only a moment before shifting over a little, reaching out gently to touch Leonard’s hunched shoulder.

“Len,” she whispers. “Leonard. It’s OK.”

He thrashes a little more, and Sara tightens her grip carefully. “Leonard,” she says, raising her voice just a little. “You’re not…not there.” She shifts even closer, wanting him to feel her physical presence. “You’re here, I’m here, you’re safe.”

Leonard rolls over abruptly, staring at her in the dark with eyes that just barely reflect a little of the light reflecting in from the small lamp she’d left on in the other room. “Sara,” he says.

“Yes.” Sara moves closer, studying him. “I’m here.”

“This is real.”

The dumbfounded shock in his voice hurts. “It is.” Sara moves her hand back, running it down his arm, then lifting her fingers to touch his jaw. “You’re back, you’re out of the timestream, and you’re free. It’s OK, Len. It’s real.”

He stares another moment. And then he reaches out slowly, carefully moves his hand behind her neck, and pulling her toward him just a little, bows his head…and then kisses her, finally stealing the kiss she’d challenged him to so long ago.

Sara closes her eyes, savoring the tentative touch of lips. She parts her lips a little, inviting more, and feels his own intake of breath before…

And then he’s not just kissing her, he’s devouring her, and Sara’s there for it, devouring him in return, their bodies pressed together, their mouths tasting and their hands wandering. Sara, after a moment, reaches down and grabs the hem of Leonard’s borrowed shirt, tugging it up enough to splay her hands out flat on his back. He, for his part, works his hands under her own top, blunt nails scraping against her skin, pressing her closer, and she hums in pleasure, biting his lip gently and moving one hand downward to the small of his back.

And then Leonard suddenly jerks his head back with a gasp, making Sara blink and catch her breath, staring at him.

He looks dazed. “I’m sorry,” he mutters, looking down at Sara. “I’m sorry. I just…there was so much nothing, and…I didn’t know what…what was real…for so long…”

The broken mutter from her once-confident crook breaks her heart. Sara reaches up to touch his jaw again, looking into foggy blue eyes, and tries to decide what to say.

“Leonard,” she says gently. “It’s OK. I…” She takes a deep breath. “I think maybe we could both use this. The physical comfort. And as for the future…well. We can talk about that later. But for now…Len, I want you and you want me too.” She runs a thumb along his jaw. “Let’s comfort each other, OK? I can think of no better way to prove that…that this is real, and you’re home.”

Leonard regards her, and then the corner of his mouth ticks up. “I dreamed—or hallucinated, I guess—a lot,” he says quietly, eyes on hers in the dark. “When I was in the timestream. Some after. But, Sara, I don’t think it was ever anything quite so pragmatic.”

Sara smirks back at him, loving the way he drawls her name in a way that echoes deep down in her bones…and other more sensitive areas. “Assassin,” she whispers at him. “Definitely pragmatic.”

Leonard’s lips twitch in return. “Captain,” he whispers in return, a use of her title that’s even sexier than the way he says her name, and then he ducks his head to kiss her again.

Sara meets him halfway. She moves her hands back to the hem of his shirt, yanking it up. He helps her maneuver it over his head, then throws it somewhere in the room as Sara runs her hands down his sides.

There are scars. She lets her fingers linger on them just a little, enough to show that she simply considers them part of him, then allows her hands to wander farther as she moves her mouth down a little to his neck, enjoying the noise he makes, quietly determined give him something distinctly real to take him through the night.

---

Leonard had meant what he’d said about hallucinating a lot, in the timestream. It’d been either a whole lot of nothing or a kaleidoscope of images and sounds with no initial rhyme or reason.

Gradually, though, over a timeframe that he can’t even begin to guess at, distinct trends had begun to emerge, taking over his wavering consciousness for periods of time, submersing him in dreams. Bits and pieces of his past, or a hoped-for future—the things he didn’t do, that’d kept him up at night.

These dreams had focused on good things, sometimes wonderful ones, a bit of a surprise to a man with plenty of darkness in his life—but the coming out of them, that was always rough. And Leonard wasn’t the sort to trade a pleasant dream for knowing what was truly going on around him.

He has a foggy suspicion that something had been directing those dreams or hallucinations. Something not without its own motives. But he’d gotten the impression that they were, at least in his case, meant to help, to cushion the fragile human mind at sea in the timestream from all that alternative cacophony or nothingness. It—the Time Force, for lack of a better term—had seemed almost perplexed the times when he’d resisted.

Many of those dreams had been about Sara.

And none of them had been as good as the reality.

Oh, the Time Force could give him a fantasy, but it couldn’t even come close to the way Sara laughed when he drew his fingertips up her sides—or when she unexpectedly wrapped one of those small, strong hands around him, and he threw back his head, startled, and banged it into the wall, leading to much swearing.

It couldn’t come close to how she breathlessly whispered his name as he touched her, or the noise she made as she slid down onto him, hands splayed on his chest, or the way their names, each uttered by the other, melded as the world came apart around them.

Or the way he felt afterward, holding her as her breathing evened out in sleep.

Not even close.

---

The Waverider picks them up the next morning, not so far away from the safehouse, a quick stop with the hatch already open so Sara and Leonard can duck on board and the ship can get into the timestream quickly—just in case.

Leonard stumbles, just a little, as the Waverider takes off again, still a little unsteady from his weeks in captivity—and the fact and he and Sara had decided to “comfort” each other again that morning probably didn’t help. (Though he has absolutely no regrets about it.) But before he can fall, a big hand reaches out and closes around his bicep, holding him steady.

Mick stares at him. He looks different in a way Leonard can’t quite place, but it’s not in a bad way. Leonard tries to give him a smirk in return, but Mick doesn’t return it.

“It’s him,” he says to Sara in what’s not quite a question.

The captain, who seems to have no problems at all with her balance, flicks a knowing smile Leonard’s way and then looks at Mick. “Yes—as close as I can tell without the medbay and Gideon’s expertise,” she tells him, bracing herself as the ship jumps into the timestream. She looks at Leonard again. “That should be your first stop. Get a clean bill of health...and confirmation.”

Then Sara sighs. “I need to go contact...the Time Bureau,” she tells Mick, running a hand through her hair in a way that betrays more uneasiness about that than Leonard would have thought. “Team meeting on the bridge after that’s done and you’re done in the medbay. Tell Gideon.”

“Gotcha, Boss,” Mick rumbles, getting a head tilt from Leonard, though he can’t help but smile a little at the words. Sara gives Leonard another of those little smiles, then turns and heads down the corridor toward the bridge. Leonard watches her go, then glances back at Mick, uncertain what to say.

Has he been forgiven for his actions, at the Vanishing Point and before? Nearly four years...it’s a long time. Mick looks like he’s settled in here, and Sara is “Boss” now, and...

And his oldest friend steps forward then, wrapping his arms around the very startled Leonard in a bear hug, lifting him right off his feet and squeezing in a way that could be threat as well as affection. (And very probably is.)

Leonard wheezes a little, and Mick lets go before he loses his breath, setting him back down on his feet and nodding in satisfaction at the look on his—former?—partner’s face.

Leonard blinks at him.

“What,” he manages.

“It’s good to have you back,” Mick says simply. “Just don’t go telling Haircut or Pretty that I do hugs.” He turns toward the medbay and Leonard falls in next to him, bemused.

“Pretty?” he inquires.

“Ha. You’ll see.”

The ship seems much the same, though the others on it must be keeping their distance, for whatever reason—whether it’s letting the returned team member acclimate without too much chaos or making sure he is who he says he is first. The medbay seems a little newer, a little shinier, and Leonard glances around, trying to match memory to reality.

“The kid made some updates, before he left,” Mick says a little gruffly, waving him toward one of the chairs. “Blondie told you?”

“About Jax...and the professor? Yeah...”

But a familiar voice interrupts them as Leonard settles into one of the medbay chairs, a voice that makes him smile again. (He seems to be doing a lot of that. More than usual, anyway.)

“Hello, Mr. Snart,” Gideon’s familiar voice says smoothly. “It’s very good to see you again.”

Leonard starts to respond, but Mick does first. “You sure?” he asks, his voice nearly a bark.

The AI’s voice gets a touch prim. “His right hand is of my make, Mr. Rory. I am sure.” She starts scanning Leonard as the two men stare at each other, the returnee wondering what Sara hasn’t told him yet.

“You’re a bit malnourished and dehydrated,” Gideon announces only a few minutes later, oblivious to (or more likely, ignoring) the tension, “and there are some barely healed injuries, the worst of which is the rather nasty bone bruise on your upper left humerus. And, of course, the still-raw wounds on your wrists.”

She pauses. “I’m going to ignore other...recent...bruises. And scratches. And odd muscle strains.”

Leonard frowns, but Mick huffs out a laugh, studying him and reading Gideon’s prim comment correctly.

“So it didn’t take you and Blondie long to make up for lost time,” is all he says.

Leonard lifts an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

Mick snorts, and Leonard thinks then, a little belatedly, of how he and Sara both seemed intent on leaving their mark on each other the night before—and that he’s wearing a T-shirt and not his usual layers. Still, he brazens through it, eyeing Mick and thinking about his friend’s need for confirmation that he’s himself...and Sara’s mention of other times and Earths.

“I figure you got a lot to tell me,” he says simply. “So, ‘fess up. Before I have to go meet the rest of this crew.”

Mick studies him, but his dubious expression is interrupted by Gideon’s voice again.

“I want to give Mr. Snart some nutrients and hydration intravenously,” she tells them, “as well as antibiotics. Forty minutes or so should be sufficient. So, Mr. Rory, you might as well start talking.” A pause. “Mr. Snart is, after all, correct. There’s a lot to tell.”

Mick makes a noise that’s part sigh, part grumble. But he nods and then pulls up a chair.

“OK,” he says, taking a seat, “so, after you...after the Oculus blew up, we went after Savage...”

[stusbunker]

Known: Case of the Weak, Part B

A Supernatural Dark Fan-fiction

Featuring: Dean Winchester x Demon!Reader, Sam, Female Vessel OC, a nameless trucker and some guy named Alan.

Summary: A discovery and an exit strategy.

Warnings: Talk of vomit, possession, angst, blood, consequences.

Series Masterlist

March 25, 2014

The Bunker

Dean felt nauseous.

He had stepped into the spare bedroom CC stayed in to change the sheets and the stink of sulfur hit him like a right hook. It was everywhere, the bed, the desk chair, little dusting of yellow flakes that stopped him in his tracks. He closed his eyes as the rage poured through the Mark and into his veins. A tiny voice inside his mind replied, ‘And you call yourself a hunter.’ He clenched his fist and released his jaw, taking in one more deep breath of betrayal.

“Sam!”

“Yeah?”

“Just come here a sec!” Dean barked, the energy drained from him as the terrifying possibilities came crashing into focus.

“What is it—shit, it reeks in here,” Sam’s eyebrows shot up. “You didn’t test her?”

“I was a little preoccupied!” Dean admonished, “what? You didn’t either!”

“Is she?”

“No, she’s alive or at least she was last I saw her. How did I miss this?!” Dean’s eyes finally locked onto Sam’s. Sam swallowed as he realized how deep this cut into Dean’s carefully crafted armor. Dean dropped onto the perfectly made bed, elbows resting on his knees as he tried to gather himself.

“You’re telling me,” Sam huffed, then their old friend suspicion surfaced. “Crowley.”

Dean pulled his bottom lip against his teeth, shaking his head as it didn’t add up.

“He was pretty keen on meeting CC, Dean.” Sam mentally walked through the day at Magnus’s and the last time they saw the King of Hell.

“Oh god, Sam. What if it was one of the ones that defiled my Baby?” Dean stood and stormed down the hall toward the bathroom. “I am going to be sick, I mean, I--- and she--- and--”

“Breathe!” Sam rolled his eyes as his brother started to dry heave. Dean inhaled the cool, fresh air of the shower room, face leaning over the sink as Sam waited beside him. Dean tried to block the images of CC’s face in his hands, blood on his thighs, mouth on him. He sloshed the cold water on his face and neck, fingers dragging a little rougher than necessary, subconsciously hurting himself to bury the repulsion, the guilt, the fear.

“How did it even get in here, Sam? This place is warded to the gills.” Dean kept his eyes closed, unwilling to meet his reflection in the mirror. “She had a branding, on her thigh. But it wasn’t ancient, it just said, ‘Hi.’ I mean ‘hi’, really?!” Dean pushed off the sink, hand tugging the hair off his forehead.

“Might be some kind of blood spell? I’ll look in to what could have gotten past the Men of Letters’ fail-safes.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” Dean sighed. “You do that, I’m gonna burn my sheets and take a shower. In lye.”

Three hours later and Sam hadn’t narrowed down what a demon would have to do in order to gain access to the Bunker. Dean had stopped himself from calling Crowley five or six times, unwilling to give the demon the satisfaction of pulling one over on him. The whole thing felt like a sick twisted game of humiliation and not even the good kind. As most days when he was lost in thought, Dean’s left hand rubbed over the Mark, like bellows doting over embers.

“Look, just call her, maybe we can meet up, exorcise it?”

“Something tells me she is going to see through whatever we cook up, Sam,” Dean muttered.

“This isn’t Chloe, Dean. This is a demon who has our friend!” Sam was losing his patience. “I mean, no matter who she’s working for, we have to go after her.”

Dean waited, letting Sam’s exasperation contort his face into five different things before he looked his big brother in the unamused eye. “You done?”

“No, but if you have something to add, why don’t you share with the class?”

“You don’t think that I know what this means, for CC? The girl that I--, the hunter that has been pulling my head out of my ass for the better part of a year to be taken like this? To have that thing inside her? Sam? Really?!” Dean had his lecture face on staring admonished at Sam’s bitch face and his lips pursed.

“Well, don’t you think it’s time we do something about it?” Sam shifted in his chair.

“Oh, we’re going to do something about it, but I’m not leaving it to chance or a bad tip from Crowley. We do what we do, we hunt the thing.” The brothers shared a look, an entire conversation that resulted in a sucking of teeth and a ruthless smirk.

*^*

Her bike had run out of gas, how something that was extremely fuel efficient and, also the stuff of dreams ran out of gas, made little sense to Chloe. But there she was, on the side of the road in the afternoon heat, stranded. Her conversation with her granddad’s spirit had replayed itself in her thoughts for days. It was like elevator music to her now, familiar yet warbled, and easily dismissed.

The eighteen-wheeler was the first sign of civilization she had seen since leaving the memories in the woods. If this was her impending choice, she was ready to answer and take the next step back towards control. It was not. Though the trucker was friendly and had the air conditioning on full blast.

“Where to, princess?”

“Don’t know, we’ll see when we get there.”

The driver gave a thoughtful frown and eased off the brakes.

*^*

April 9, 2014

Sayre, OK

Fog clung to the road, sloping into ditches as the passing cars drove by, their proximity rattling the windows around you. You had pulled over to the shoulder hoping for a distraction, but that was hours ago. The body heat had steamed the windshield against the sunrise, scarlet and coral blotches appeared slowly before your unfocused eyes. You listened to the voicemail again, letting the once solacing voice eat away at any semblance of purpose you had left.

He had heard about your last case, wanted to meet half way. There were rumors about Crowley and Dean felt like his show down with Abaddon was an any-day-now situation. Damn, was he a brilliant bullshit artist. You almost believed he wanted to see you. It almost sounded that he had convinced himself he need to see CC again before that next battle. Maybe that’s what it was, maybe it was just Dean’s sentimental side breaking through before he got the First Blade back in his hand.

But it was just a hint too earnest and two puffs too smooth for someone who had done the things to you that he had. Dean knew and he was setting his trap.

You thought of going underground, knowing Crowley still had a few tails on you, despite your regular check ins. There was always defection, switch teams and play against the world’s deadliest hunters, with the last Knight of Hell as your team captain. Or you could tell him the disgusting, grisly truth and let him, or Sam, exorcise you where you stand.

None of those were without merit, but all were without much hope in your survival. The radio crackled over the opening cords of the next song, Kurt Cobain’s voice came next, shattering your pretensions, and finally the tears began to fall.

*^*

Rock Springs, WY

April 12, 2014

The Impala pulled into the parking lot just after rush hour, which wasn’t much to avoid in most respects. Sam had been on the phone on and off the entire drive, keeping tabs on the soul banks that Abaddon had erected all over. Dean was listening, but they both knew he had checked out unless it was about CC or the Queen Bitch herself. He needed the easy routine of tuning the radio and the weight of his foot on the gas. Because when he stopped or thought too much, everything seemed to unfreeze and fall apart at his slightest touch.

The motel had plenty of vacancies, especially for Agents Hawkins and Grohl. There wasn’t a verified case for forty miles, but something about putting on the Fed suit and using an alias made Dean feel in control. It was hard to believe there was a time when he hated the get ups. He replayed his times with CC on and off through the years, usually as one forgotten memory would surface, eventually they all snowballed over the bigger picture. But he could only see now where the holes in time split and the emptiness of his unspoken promises fissured.

“You call her?” Sam’s voice broke through his weapons check.

“Yeah, just rang through to voicemail. We’ll settle in and grab something to eat and I will try again.”

He didn’t turn around to see that look on Sam’s face, he already felt its sting without having to face it.

*^*

It as if she was asleep, her body seemed so much smaller from the outside. Though her boots fell inside the edge of the mattress, you felt the need to bed her knees, curling her on her side as she liked to rest. She was warm and her body heavy. You waited at the small breakfast table, new vessel’s fingers flexing as you acclimated to him. “Come on, CC, wake up.”

She shouldn’t have been tired, you had a solid six hours the night before. But when you left her mouth, you only passively realized that she was nowhere to be found. In fact, you couldn’t recall the last time you felt her fighting you.

Dean.

You hadn’t felt her since Dean. It was a good thing they were coming for you, then. Maybe his voice could break through to her, wherever she had gone. Like some macabre fairy tale, the cursed hunter wakes the mind-lost vessel. You should be gone by then, they didn’t need an audience. You didn’t need to bare witness to that. They would probably blast you full of rock salt and finish you off with their Kurdish knife. Instead you stayed, staring at the man’s generic phone screen until you heard CC’s ringtone from her coat on the rack behind the door.

Dean.

*^*

“I don’t know Sam, this all feel off to you?” Dean swallowed down some coffee as he waited for CC’s voicemail message to pick up again.

“We’re hunting a demon, not really expecting it to make it easy,” Sam shrugged.

“But, wouldn’t it pick up and taunt us?”

“Maybe it ditched her phone, want me to try the GPS?” Sam offered, pulling open his laptop on the cramped diner table.

Dean smiled at the waitress as she brought his slice of pie, though his stomach was full, he wasn’t going to deny himself a slice of Dutch Apple, especially not tonight. Sam huh-ed.

“What?”

“It’s pinging at our motel.” Sam stuck his tongue in his cheek as he spun the screen for Dean to see.

“Fucking demons,” Dean spoke through his bite of pie, inhaling all he could as Sam packed up his computer and left more than enough extra for a tip.

*^*

You could smoke out, there was still enough time. The Impala’s engine cut on the other side of the parking lot. You could almost feel him from where you sat, but this body was a poor substitute, and you were a selfish, masochistic bitch. So, you waited. Chloe’s breath was shallow, but steady. She hadn’t stirred or made even one noise. In a way, this was probably the last time you would ever see her again. Moving day and this was your last walk through of your first place. It was understandable to linger, justifying your inability to walk away from her and Dean.

They had geared up in their room, you could hear muffled voices through the walls, there were just three rooms between you and two were empty. Even whispering, you’d know those voices anywhere. They walked around the building, knowing if they took the shortest distance they would pass in front of the large window at your back. Sometimes you hated hunters’ caution and sometimes you wanted to pat their little heads. You pulled air through his nose and waited.

He called again. Honestly.

“Door’s open,” you said to whichever one was at the door, trying to discreetly pick the lock in nearly full view of the parking lot and surrounding alley. The voice was coarse out of your throat, foreign and distasteful to use for such occasions.

*^*

As the door swung open, Sam’s eyes fell on their host, before locking on to the sight of CC prone on the bed. He dragged his brother to his feet, and they walked straight into the fray. Tucking away his lock pick, Dean rocked forward in a fury, only taking two steps before he was knocked back. In half a breath, Sam and Dean were pinned against the coat rack as the door swung closed. The demon hadn’t even stood up.

“What did you do to her?!” Dean demanded, working to focus and to buy Sam time as a distraction.

“Nothing much worse than you did,” he spoke calmly, but the cadence wasn’t meant for this mouth.

“I’m going to kill you, you sonofabitch!”

“I know you want to, especially now, with all that blood-lust running through you.” The demon stood, the vessel was a white guy in his forties, small compared to them, but that meant nothing now. “The Mark really smarts after you lost the Blade, doesn’t Dean? I know how it makes you feel and how you think. So, I know you want to kill me, in fact, I was banking on it. That’s why I found a new meat suit. Didn’t wanna add anymore guilt on the Winchester laundry list.”

“But, why?” Sam searched for understanding, “I mean, why stick around for us to find you. You could have run back to Abaddon or Crowley or to fucking Botswana by now.”

The demon didn’t answer, but watched Dean watch CC, it almost seemed wistful. Sam was struggling to piece together its motivations all while fighting the force holding him against his will. But Dean had stopped fidgeting beside him, his brother had gone lax. Dean’s eyes unfocused before glaring at their captor.

“You like to watch, huh? Is that it? You get off on people’s feelings, you sick fuck.” Dean inhaled slowly with a piercing stare that further challenged the demon. He tried not to let his rage plummet with the shock as he started to feel an ease of pressure against his body.

“You know I don’t. Besides, I haven’t answered Sam, yet.” The demon approached them, waiting just out of arm’s reach. “I need your help.”

*^*

You had no clue if this would work, but it was the Hail Mary at the end of the game of your own devising. You kept going back to him and now that you had been made, you were running out of options. Nothing you did made sense, but if you were going to get through to Dean, you had to tell the truth. Or at least part of it.

“I don’t know where CC is.”

“You mean other than on the bed,” Dean was not amused with the child-like turn.

You rolled your eyes and put your hands on your hips, which was far less empowering in this form than in hers. “Obviously. She hasn’t been talking back for a while and when I exited stage left, it’s been quiet.”

“Has she had any brain damage or major trauma?” Sam asked.

You shook your head and then shrugged, possession was a bit traumatic, even when you weren’t out to derail her sanity. “The last time I remember even a glimpse of her was with Dean, so I was hoping…”

“No.”

“What, why?”

“It wants me to wake Sleeping Beauty,” Dean snapped. “I am not putting the moves on a comatose girl, not after what, just no.”

“It has a name,” you snipped, dropping your hold on Dean, which oddly wasn’t as secure as it was originally. “Just try and talk to her? Maybe she can resurface.”

“And if I don’t?” Dean watched you like a true enemy. While the power you possessed was nothing compared to what he unknowingly held over you, it was nice to been seen for what you were finally. Again, you remained silent, choosing to squeeze Sam’s throat enough for him to audibly choke. “Noted.”

He approached the bed with caution, eyeing the weapons you had forced from their grasp and waist bands with their confinement. You slid them across the floor beneath the table, nudging Dean onward. Out of annoyance more than courtesy, you removed the strangle hold from Sam’s throat. He sputtered and coughed as Dean checked CC’s pulse.

“Dean?”

“She’s good.” Dean’s large hand cradled her face as he began to whisper, “I’m so sorry, but we’re going to get you out of here. We’re gonna get you back on your feet and we can kick the bastard’s ass together, okay? Cease, you hearing me in there, huh?”

Your eyes flitted back to Sam, he looked at you with something too close to pity in his eyes. You let your eyes blacken and stuck your tongue out at him. Dean started talking again, leaving a little peck on Chloe’s forehead as he waxed on about their first hunt. Things you had learned but hadn’t realized what their past meant for him. It paled in comparison to yours, but Dean wasn’t here for you. And, finally you saw that you weren’t only there for yourself either.

“What about a dream walk?” Sam suggested, “we could probably scrounge up the ingredients between us.”

“Dean? Think you could handle it?” Everything rested on the head of a pin, Chloe’s life, your afterlife, Sam’s patience and Dean’s faith.

“I’m not leaving you alone with Sam,” Dean didn’t bother looking at you, he was too worried about CC.

“It’s not like we can trust her with our bodies, Dean.” Sam cocked his head as Dean’s eyes looked skyward.

“Demons don’t sleep, ergo it’s not coming with.”

You swallowed, remembering everything you knew about the ritual. “Dean, look, if I trust Sam to keep from killing OR exorcising me while I’m in. Will you trust me to go with you?”

“Why are you even still here?” Dean muttered, offended by your very existence.

“Because I don’t want Chloe dead, if I did, I would have done it a long time ago.”

“That right?” Dean stood now, looking down his nose at your vessel.

“Look, I asked for your help, alright?” You threw in your final chip and let Sam fall back to his feet. “Either help me find Chloe or kill me and do it on your own, but this guy has kids and I haven’t done a thing to him or her since you’ve been here. You can trust me.”

Dean let out a mirthless laugh. “Trust you? Sorry, Alan,” he quipped as he flicked the embroidered name tag on your chest. “I don’t even know you.”

*^*

He was impossibly close now and though he had been hiding it, the rage was surging just beneath the surface.  Dean’s every instinct told him to kill this thing, but the way it moved and spoke was giving him a headache. It was like a bad body swap, because he was very clearly talking to CC while talking about CC. Just how long had she been possessed for it to have this sort of mimicry?

“That stings a little, but I’m not going to hold a shitty memory against you, Dean. Ball’s in your court, boys.” The demon sat down, leaning back to grab both of their guns and knife.

Tags: @mogaruke @dontshootmespence @mrswhozeewhatsis@smi727@sassykayla255@supernaturalboi@dumbthotticus@eve05glee@veroinnumera@spn-dean-and-sam-winchester@fanfictionrecommendations-com@soullesscollection-world

Next Chapter: Case of the Weak Part C

[ivadeshin]

Five Soda Maximum (Highschool AU) pt 3

(pts 1 and 2 here!

 As this story goes on, there’s going to be mild issues with anxiety and food, jsyk <3)

The cafeteria exit faces the treeline, so there’s no passing traffic or people walking by. The concrete pathway from the door to the parking lot is only ever really used for fire drills, so when Caleb and Nott round the corner, they’re surprised at how much quieter it is than the south side of the building, with sports and picnic benches.

Beau looks up first, pen pausing over a workbook. Caleb waves, but Beau just looks back down at her book. Caleb feels his stomach turn, and he already regrets the half sandwich he ate at lunch.

“Beau,” Fjord’s saying, using his sneaker to nudge her leg. “I invited them. C’mon.”

“Oh. Fuck.” Beau looks up, waving now. “You’re Caleb Weiss, right?”

“Right,” Caleb confirms, still biting back the dissonance at the last name even after all these weeks. “This is Nott.”

Jester looks up from her phone. “Hiiiii!” She leans back in the grass and smacks the spot next to her several times, moving a heavily adorned backpack behind her to widen up the little circle. “We already know Nott, kind of! Caleb, where are you from?”

“Germany.” He sits down in the new spot, crossing his legs and looking down at his torn up sneakers before making himself lift his head and make some eye contact. When Nott plunks down next to him, he feels a bit better. “And you?”

“Romania, but mostly here.” Her tail curls around her, snaking up to the workbook that Beau’s leaning over again and gently smacking it. Beau makes an annoyed noise but puts it down. “Fjord and Beau are regular Americans. Do you like it here?”

Caleb nods. “Everyone at school is very nice. It is, um. It is strange to see so many non-humans, but it is not, it is not bad, just different. They are all good. I like non-humans. I am friends with Nott.”

A silence begins to settle, and threatens to crush Caleb into a fine paste of shame and regret.

“Caleb’s still learning English,” Nott pipes up. “In school back home he was taking Sylvan and he only knew English from tv and stuff.”

The other three nod, happy to have something new to work with. Fjord gives a thumbs up.

“You’re doin’ great so far,” he compliments. “Fast-talking teachers aside. That’s gotta be hard.”

“He mumbles,” Caleb says, and Fjord and Jester both make pained faces in solemn agreement.

“Enunciate’s a good word,” Beau says thoughtfully. “Kind of long, but. It means to talk clearly.”

“Thank you,” Caleb says, pretending he didn’t already know that word and that people don’t get really thorny when you ask them to do that.

Beau shrugs. “If your homework trips you up, come bring it to us, we’ll help. Well.” She looks over to Nott. “I’m sure you’re already helping him.”

“I can use all the help I can get,” Caleb interjects. “Um. Your history classes are very… focused on America, and I am used to lots of focus on Europe. So a lot of it is quite new. To me.”

Jester is unpacking a small embroidered bag with cosmetics. “Nott, have you tried the new MAC Cool Exotics collection?”

Nott blinks several times. “…no,” she says, clearly not sure what she just responded to.

Jester holds up a small palette of colors from light green to deep purple. The box is sleek and black, and Caleb thinks back to the word expensive. “MAC does the best colors for non-humans. They do warm collections and cool collections, and you are green, so you are ‘cool’, like me.” She leans in and squints. “What is your skin routine?”

Beau makes a pained noise. “Don’t make her do girly stuff with you,” she groans.

Fjord laughs and shakes his head. “You don’t have to,” he tells Nott. “She’s a little makeover obsessed. Blame YouTube.”

“It’s okay,” Nott says quickly, shocking Caleb. “I just, um, is it okay if I don’t know anything?”

“That’s even better because then she gets to teach you.” Beau snorts. “We’re doomed. Caleb, she’s going to have you moisturizing and wearing sunscreen soon.”

He touches his face. “Am I sun scorched?”

“Sunburned,” Nott murmurs under her breath, scooting over to move between Caleb and Jester.

“Sunburned,” Caleb corrects quickly.

“No, she’s just excited to slap BB cream and CC cream and …” Beau shares a look with Fjord. “I don’t know, Korean skincare became a thing and now she’s obsessed.”

“Korean sunscreen is much better for you. They don’t have a lot of the bad chemicals, in it, and also, it doesn’t have that stinky smell.” Jester bites her lip as she pulls out several clips, pinning Nott’s hair away from her face. “Hm. You have an oily complexion.”

“I’m a goblin,” Nott mumbles.

Jester shakes her head. “That’s racist bullshit. Every person has some oil, or dryness, or combination problems. Goblins don’t produce more oils than anybody else. Here.” She pulls out some sort of wet wipe and holds it up to Nott’s face, showing it to her a moment before beginning to wipe her down. Nott makes a face but holds still.

“Can you, um, can you do my eyebrows?”

Caleb can’t hide the look of utter shock at those words, and Nott blushes a little.

“People always think I’m a boy.”

“You should, um. You should,” Caleb gestures to his own face. “You should make your face however you want.”

“I don’t think I would wear makeup every day,” Nott shoots Jester an apologetic glance, but she’s flapping her hand dismissively. “But maybe if. I didn’t feel so greasy. And my eyebrows were a little less messy.”

Beau leans in to Caleb. “You’re trapped here now,” she warns. “You’re a project.”

Caleb looks down at his sneakers. “Oh, no,” he says flatly, and is very, very pleased when his three new friends giggle.

**

They relocate from the bleachers. Caleb learns that if you are rich, you can have a private tutor even though you already go to school. Jester’s is named Mr. Cestovatel and Fjord says, when Jester is not around, that she definitely has a crush on the guy.

And Jester seems to be loaded, not just by Caleb’s standards, but she doesn’t act the way Caleb would expect. She loans Nott some weird looking skincare bottles to try, and doesn’t laugh at him when he admits he can’t give everyone his number because he doesn’t have a cell phone.

Beau is rude, even by American standards, but she isn’t mean. Fjord is usually punching her arm to remind her to thank someone or pay attention and it seems like she’s mostly sort of trying to get better about it. She seems to pay a lot of attention to the news, and she refers to a Twitter account where she ‘retweets’ things about Antifa, which Nott has to explain to Caleb later.

Fjord is… super nice. It’s clear why so many girls have a crush on him, even though he doesn’t have nice clothes or a lot of money, or play sports. (Caleb is delighted to learn that Fjord is going to be in Robotics class with him once it starts, and is not shocked at all to learn that this, also, is not considered cool.) But Fjord’s voice is low and smooth, and he smiles easily.  He doesn’t get in much trouble and he seems to care about people. Beau says he got bullied when he was younger for being chubby and the only half-orc in his elementary school, and ever since he shot up a million feet and started ‘making thicc look good’, as Jester calls it, he’s been the guy that shows up in hallways.

“The foster house popped up a couple years ago,” Beau says quietly one day, when Fjord isn’t there. “A few assholes used to joke that ‘the circus had come to town’, and you’ll never guess who wasn’t standing for that shit.”

“Standing for,” Caleb echoes, frowning.

Beau sits up a little straighter, deepening her voice and trying to do a southern accent. “That’s enough ‘a that shit,” she mimes, pretending to give him a disapproving look. Caleb’s eyebrows fly up and he grins.

**

Caleb doesn’t have a phone but Nott does, and so Nott will read to him from the group chat sometimes.

“Beau wants to know how to say ‘fuck you’ in German,” Nott reports one day.

“It was only a matter of time,” Caleb sighs.

Nott frowns. “You don’t like it when people do this to you,” she guesses quietly.

“No, it is fine.” And it is, somehow, because it’s been three solid days of hanging out with these people and he... doesn’t feel like a side show at all, now that he thinks about it. He really doesn’t mind. “Fick dich.”

“Ha!” Nott giggles delightedly and hovers her thumbs over the tiny keyboard. “How do you spell that?”

[voidequine]

The First Adventure of Team Seahorse

In which Horuss and Feferi are partnered together to assist with the incoming weather crisis relief.

@fishprincessofthelaw

Feferi

CC>AJ: ) (ey ) (oruss! So we're paired up! > Well that wasn't awkward. Not sure what to say are you.

Horuss

AJ>CC: 8=D Greetings to you Feferi. It would seem that we are insteed. 8=D Did you hoof a particular place you wished to start the relief efforts? > You are going to allow her to make the decision here as you hoof neigh idea of your own where to even consider beginning. Differing to the superior and all.

Feferi

CC>AJ: W) (ale I was thinking my old neig) (bor) (ood would be a nice place to start if you're okay wit) ( it!

Horuss

AJ>CC: 8=D That is certainly mare than agreestable with me, feel free to direct our course as you please.

Feferi

CC>AJ: Okay! I'll ) (ead to the precinct to meet up wit) ( you?

Horuss

AJ>CC: 8=D Of horse. I shall meet you there.

Feferi

CC: Sea you soon!!!

You are Feferi Piexes. You are ready to help your community! You just have to meet up with your winter storm safety buddy first. Horuss. The Zahhak you think you might have spoken to the least so far. Not from lack of want, after all he had amazing puns. Life has just left you two barely crossing paths. UNTIL NOW! You reach the precinct and you arm yourself with shelter information flyers and decked out in warm clothes you wait for him.

Horuss

You are the Horuss Zahhak in question and you are prepared to get to work yourself, garbed in your own thick winter gear to help ward off the cold you are still unused as of yet. You are currently waiting at the precinct for one Feferi Piexes, the one you hoof been assigned as the partner of for the duration of the storm relief efforts, someone you hoof spoken to very little, then again that could describe all your new workmates you hoof been very slow in your adjustment to the new climate, that is your usual though so you need neigh worry about it too much. You notice her stepping inside the precinct and collecting the information pamphlets for the shelters, so you stride forward to meet her. Calling a gentle greeting as you get within speaking distance of her. "Hello Feferi, are you ready to make hay?"

Feferi

You hear him speak and turn to flash a bright smile, "Whale hay! Yup! I am good to go! It's a pretty far walk from here but at least walking will keep us warm!"

Horuss

"We will be walking?" You are fine with that, walking is good exercise and will only help you accumulate to the weather quicker. "Alright, that is mare than agreeable with me. Let us set off then?"

Feferi

"Shore!" you beam. "Team seahorse is off!" you laugh as you lead the way to the door and hold it for him politely.

Horuss

'Team seahorse?' Well that is certainly an amusing way to view this. And then she's holding the door open for you which is neigh something you are used to, neigh so much due to blood colour or caste-system, but mare so due to your sheer size and the intimidation that affords. You follow her out of the precinct, stepping into the rapidly dropping weather outside, tucking your nose into the collar of your jacket momentarily before lifting your face to the world once mare.

Feferi

You follow after and brrrr! Cold! "Wow it's nippy! Hee hee! Maybe folks can make snow people when it warms up later!" you chatter as you start to walk the old familiar path to where you used to live.

Horuss

"Perhaps," you agree, falling into step behind her and allowing her to lead the hay to their first destination. You hope that you will neigh be finding any actual 'snow people' after the blizzards clear but it is neigh a very STRONG one, inevitability and all. "I am sure there will be many relishing in the chance to escape the confines of their homes and shelters once it is over."

Feferi

"For shore! I was always super happy to get out when the weather allowed during the winter when I was little," you say. "Were there bad winters where you grew up?"

Horuss

"Neigh," Alternian winter's weren't quite anything close to those experienced on Derse. "Winters on Alternia did neigh e%perience such storms, at least neigh for as long as is expected here, the sun is harsh throughout the entire year, even if a snowfall was to occur during the night it would be gone by the next midday." At least where you had grown up it had, the heat from the sun had been a constant all year round.

Feferi

Oh geez that's some intense sun. "Wowie! That's pretty strong sun. So... on Alternia it's switched right? People sleep for the day and do things during the night?"

Horuss

"Yes, it's much safer that way, hence our tendency towards nocturnal lifestyles," the sun was... neigh something to tread lightly with, neigh at all. "The night cycle is a much easier time frame to exist and work in."

Feferi

"Sounds interesting! And also explains why I'm not a morning person at all," you joke. "My lusus though, she's a morning gal through and though." You glance at the land marks and smile, "We're almost there."

Horuss

"My lusus used to be mare of an early riser as well, a great help during my youngest years, before I got settled into the training schedule given onto me." You take a note of your surroundings as well, mare to help your own mental map of the city than anything else. "Good, we will hopefully be able to get the information to everyone soon enough then?"

Feferi

You nod, "Since I used to live here till recently I know most of the homeless folks, so they'll listen to us. It's kinda why I wanted to come myself cause whale... I want them to be safe and okay..."

Horuss

"An understandstable motive and reasoning, people tend to listen mare to someone they know than a stranger," you take in your surroundings with a closer eye, it is neigh one of the better ones you hoof seen during your time here but that is fine, individuals should neigh be judged for where they grew up, else you would hoof to be judging your own diamond quite harshly. "Let us get to work then so that they can start their journeys to safety before the worst of the weather sets in, neigh?"

Feferi

You nod eagerly. "Yeah!" You lead the way to the places where those you know are at giving them the flyers and explaining the situation. One old man who's always loved to tease looks at you and Horuss and chuckled, "Traded in the lil fish for a side a beef, ay lil lady?!" You blush and tell him firmly no not at all this is your partner Horess. After he heads off you look at Horuss, "Sorry about him. He likes to think he's very funny."

Horuss

You give out flyers and though you can neigh make yourself appear smaller or less threatening, you offer close mouth smiles and allow Feferi to do mare of the talking, you are neigh the best with such situations anyhay. Neigh for you at all. You snort an amused noise at the elderly man's words, what a humorous thing to say. "There is neigh need to apologize," you assure once the man has left hearing distance. "I did neigh take offense to his joke, and you did neigh do anything to foster or encourage it, so you do neigh need to hay sorry. I do neigh mind."

Feferi

You sigh a little relieved. "I'm glad. He's nice fella. I've given him food before only to see him turn around and give it to stray animals," you tell him.  "There's only a few more places left here. Which is probably good cause we shouldn't stay out in the cold too late either," you admit. "Night's here are yeesh. Especially near the desert where the wind is the worst."

Horuss

"That certainly does sound like a kind individual," kindness and foalish often go hand in hand, you feel neigh need to point that out. "Let us continue then, as quickly as we are stable too," you admittedly do neigh like the sound of anyone staying out here when you two can at least give them the opportunity to escape the worse of the elements, whether or neigh they accepted it was aneigh-ther matter all together.

Feferi

Nodding you lead the way one last time. You are extremely glad you find everyone you know and a few people you didn't. One troll refuses to talk to you staring pointedly at your fins and will only deal with Horuss. You can't help but be crestfallen because of it as it's time to head back. You wonder how you went so long without noticing... Maybe it was because back then you'd been too busy with your own survival to pay attention.

Horuss

The two of you end up working through the entirety of the stack of flyers you had brought with you, which is a hopeful end to the task you and Feferi had set out to complete. You are neigh a praying type but you shall offer what little value your thoughts hoof towards a safe continuing to these individuals and their lives, insteed of the slow cold end at winter's uncaring claws. The troll that dismisses Feferi is beyond rude, towards her and then you in kind, you are cold enough to be distainstable but warm enough to be tolerstable to speak with. You give it neigh mind, you neigh-ver hoof, why would this nameless neigh-body be any different, but it seems Feferi does neigh hoof the same willingness to ignore and continue on that you do. "You need neigh pay mind to individuals such as that," you offer once the two of you hoof started the journey back to the precinct, your longer, STRONGER stride assisting you in traversing the snow already starting to build up on the streets. "It is their choice to see blood colour over an individual's own merits and baring, neigh-thing you need to be concerned with."

Feferi

"But... It feels like... I don't know... Like I'm trapped in the shadow of what people expect a fucshia to be..." you admit, feeling quite vulnerable. "Not everyone does that but... Cod it's not even just a troll thing. It's like I'm either a monster or a failure........ even someone at the Precinct thinks I could be a threat to his race... That it's in my nature to kill and conquer..." Looking away and down you say, "I think I'm most afraid they could be right on some level..."

Horuss

"Then do neigh let them be," it really is that simple, at least for you it is. If she does neigh wish to be those things then she should simply ignore what others wish and continue her life how she wants too. At least you believe it is that simple. Mind over matter and all that neigh-sense. "You will find it... difficolt to change what others believe about you so it is mare often than neigh better to simply stride towards actions that make you happy with your own self. They do neigh hoof to live with the person you become, only you really do." You hoof said similar words a number of times to your palemate, you do neigh understand what about the concept is difficolt for others to grasp but apparently it is.

Feferi

Glancing at him, you feel grateful for his words even if you're unsure how well that advice may work as if you choose the path to become empress, the feelings others have about you will matter a lot. "Thanks, Horuss," you say with a smile to him.

Horuss

You blink, "it is neigh matter," you do neigh think so at least. Either hay, time to drop the subject and continue back to the precinct. "We should hurry along before the streets become too untraversstable and I need to assist you over it." By that you mean carry her above the snow, something you are STRONGLY confident in your ability to do.

Feferi

You laugh, "Hey now, I'm not as tall as you but I've delt with this before." You forge your way past him to prove your point. "I am Derse hatched and scrappy!"

Horuss

"Of horse you are," It takes neigh effort and two-and-a-hoof paces before you past her. "I was marely stating a worry, neigh offense meant to you."

Feferi

You take this as a challenge and start trying to outpace him as you grin. "None taken. But I whale hoof to prove my stuff!"

Horuss

"I am sure you will hoof mare than enough opportunities to," you believe that your partnership with one Feferi Peixes will be a enjoystable one, for however long it lasts.

[natasha--jane]

The Verdant Queen

the verdant queen chapter one

(active movement) oli p.o.v. While looking over shado’s wounds i sigh, if Anatole's boat doesn't get here soon shado wont survive irregardless of what I've done for her wounds i realize dejectedly. I jump as a small hand taps my shoulder i look up to see Ishida’s fogged green eyes "raò me, wô de ài rén(what's wrong my love[Chinese]) I murmur tiredly. She goes to answer but is cut off by the sound of a boat engine coming close. "Russian.     good job my love" I turn to the children "Bleib hier! (stay here![German]) I order as I run toward the sound, going up the cliff face as fast as I can. The climb cutting my feet along the way. At the top I pull my bow line up one of my tar arrows light it take a breath and aim I release it along side my breath. I smile as the stacked debris goes up in flame with a foooom. 

As I see the boat turn to the island, I rush to the beach waving my arms. I fall to my knees in relief as the captain and his children disembark. We'll be all right the thought crosses my mind before I can smother it. against my better judgement hope flutters in my chest.  An older man comes over to me and holds out his hand pulling me up i’m surprised when he pulls me close, but I adapt and leaning into the comfort he is offering, closing my eyes for a moment allowing myself just a moment of assurance that he's real, then I pull back and say as clearly as i can manage "jiù jiù wô, ta shòu shang le (please please help me she won't wake[Chinese])" as I pull him along with me, his son and daughter follow us to the campsite. I gesture for the children to let them through giving a tired smile as I watch Alyssa and Tysa lead ishida away acting as her eyes. I wave to get Alyssa's attention to sign to her 'head to the beach' I turn to the young man who looks 16 "do you speak English" the boy nods "can you take them to the boat" he nods gesturing for the children to follow him and heads off, after they have gone i turn to the older man who is looking at me curious "why send them away" he asks gesturing to the direction of the children.

I point to shado "shes unconscious but will still voice her pain when i move her i try to spare the children what i can. my names Oliver queen she is shado my wife the little ones are Alyssa Tysa and Ishida. whats yours" i ask politely he answers "tt my son cc and my daughter ss she can help you move ms. shado she studies medical books and shes good with wounds." he offers gesturing to ss who nods and steps forwards. I shake my head "it'd be more helpful if you could go to the boat and collect some supplies and clear some space on the deck, so i can see to her wounds away form the children" ss nods and dashes off.

"Could you take the bag so i dint have to make two trips i’m quite eager to get off this island" i ask the older man he laughs a swings the bag over his shoulder. "as you should be" he murmurs i smile at his good humor and scoop up shado trying to avoid the burns that litter her chest back legs and arms, but touching them is unavoidable, resulting to me trying to ignore the pained moan. i try not to gag as i think of the fact that her wounds were still in that raw oozing stage of healing beneath the poultice beneath the bandages. As we walk down to the beach she moans again drawing my attention to her face and the poultice that adorns the left side of her face from her scalp down to her mid-cheek hiding beneath the non-assuming poultice is a brand that to this day i cant bare to look at it for more then it takes to change the bandage and poultice.

As we approach the boat i cant suppress the genuine smile of happiness as i see the children who are bundled up in blankets rice and tea on the table in front of them as cc flutters around with a box of baby wipes washing them up and fixing their hair. i laugh as they glare at him but allow it. i board with shado and see the tarp laid out on the deck i look to ss as she begins to speak  "I've disinfected the tarp with alcohol not preferred but what i had on hand you have three bowls all disinfected one empty, one with a honey aloe and//, and one with clean bottled water." i settle shado down on the tarp and look on as ss takes over removing the bandages being forced to soak them in places to remove them.

 i look to the older man as he pilots us away from li un yu. Then i look to ss she seems have shado’s care under control i head into the cabin to speak to tt. "What can i do to repay you and your children for your help" I ask quietly as i watch cc put tysa to bed Alyssa already asleep on the cot. "You don’t have to do that son. We aren't wealthy but we get by as we are" he murmurs shaking his head. I look away from cc feeding ishida by guiding his hand rather then treating him like an infant the action making me smile. "I must insist my family is quite wealthy back home and I would feel horrible not rewarding you and your children for what you've done for me and mine." I look to ss as she bandages shados face with a look of outrage on her face for shado and then to cc as he tucks Ishida between Tysa and Alyssa and covers them all, before heading to help ss with shado, he scoops her up and brings her into the cabin laying her on the second cot ss covering her with a blanket for modesty.

tt waves for cc to take over piloting the boat and leads me outside "I would feel uncomfortable taking money from you" he says looking out over the water. "What about a sponsor ship deal ill pay for them to go to school and pay you for their absence so you can hire help it wont just help your family but also the families of those you hire and after they complete school they can pay me back by working for me for a year at the end of the year they can decide whether or not they wish to continue or strike out on their own, would that work?" He looks shocked but nods, he turns to head into the cabin and i follow. "We'll be in range for our phone to work in a few hours, you can sleep until then if you need to." i nod and curl up on the third top cot.{kids on middle shado on bottom} -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------chapter one page two {flashback on the gambit oli p.o.v.} I’m sitting on the bed in my cabin room on the gambit packing my books into their waterproof bag along side my thumbnail cameras and their monitors when i hear the door open and Sarah enters i look up ready to ask if shes ready to go to bed only to stop short as i see her, shes shaking like a leaf. "Are you ok" i ask as i stand. She lunges at me collapsing into my arms. I quickly lower us to the bed pulling her close worried "I’m pregnant" she gasps out. I take a breath realizing why shes so shaken "and you don’t know-" she nods hiding her face in my chest "it could be yours or Tommy’s or .....or" she cuts herself off not wanting to put voice to the possibility of her greatest fear. /or Laurels/ i think the memories of that night rushing forward before i force them back with a shake of my head. i lean back so i can look her in the eye as i say "ill stand by you no matter what path you take. you know that don’t you?" i end it with a serious question she nods, wipes her face and takes a breath "i have no idea what to do about it so I’m putting it on the back burner for now put i had to tell you it was eating me up inside but until we’re done with this whole mess I’m ignoring it" she says gesturing to the bags as she stands. i nod as she heads to the bathroom to clean up and change. I stay back to finish tying my bags together rechecking the zip locks and water seals, as i do i see the flash from lighting go across the wall from outside and start counting automatically until i hear the thunder roll.

Trying to focus on the storm rather the the memories of the night Sarah’s child was conceived, I shake my head and look up as Sarah comes back in and sits beside me. We go over the plan again and settle in for the night both of us giddy for the plan to come to fruition tomorrow "so are you ready for this little bird i murmur into her hair as we lay there in the dark the storm raging out side. she thumps me in the nose for using that hated childhood nickname but nods in response twitching as another roll of thunder reverberates through our teeth. I reach for my left arm stroking my thumb over the dog tags i can feel sewn into the under side of the the worn leather as i do so i can `feel` my mark burn. then as i trace the pattern inlaid on the surface of the leather Sarah places her hand on mine  "are you ready to see him?" she asks gently while tapping the cobra and viper embossed resting beneath a hawk on the leather. i sigh uncertainly "I think so, but we wouldn’t be having to track them down in china if everything is alright so i have no idea if hes even ok much less if hell be happy to see me." She nods but responds in a steady voice "If he needs it you'll kick his ass and drag him home to his kids" i laugh bitterly "i wish i had your confidence in me" i feel her shake her head "its not confidence its surety of faith and certainty in knowing how you defend whats yours" thunder rolls and lightning flashes giving her words an unearthly heavy weight. we fall silent and drift off into a light doze.------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------chapter on page two {active motion oli p.o.v.} I’m jarred awake by the boat coming to a stop. i get up and wake the children cc takes over and ushers the children off the boat and bundles them into the van while tt helps me off the boat as I’m carrying shado. ss starts the van as tt bundles me and shado into the back i zone out as ss drives and tt looks shado and i over, trusting tt ss and cc to care for us for a little while. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- chapter two page one {flashback oli p.o.v.} 3 days after last flashback i wake from yet another nightmare of Sarah’s death, a scream trapped in my throat. I turn to Sarah and shake her awake, something that has become easy to do since 'that night'. "Whats happening oli?" she asks blearily wiping sleep from her eyes. "DREAM" i answer simply, coldly as i get up and begin gathering my bags. she jumps from the bed quickly having learned to trust my dreams without question and grabbing the life jackets i point her to. She dons one as i finish tying my bags to the strap around my waist and straps the second one onto me as i tie her bag to her waist. we both look up as a hurried knock sounds at the door "come in" i call as i double check the ties and Sarah checks the buckles on the vests. The door opens and my father looks in "were turning the boat around the storms gotten to bad out here ok?" i nod and wave him off. Sarah lays a hand on my shoulder as i check everything a third time "somethings wrong isn’t it?" she asks worried. i nod and pull her into a tight hug knowing that she knows i cant put words to my dreams but knowing she knows that ill do my best to protect her. "you k-" I’m cut off by the boat jerking to the left hard a thunderous crash sounds through the boat reverberating through my bones cutting through the sound of the storm outside the boat jerks again throwing me to the bed and Sarah to the wall. i get up to get to Sarah but loose my grip on her hand as the boat is ripped apart and we are both plunged into the icy water. i begin treading water calling out for Sarah only to be pulled from the water and into a life raft. i look up to see my father pulling my bags from the water by the cord. I get up determined to get back in the water to find Sarah but my father pulls me back "shes gone oli shes gone" he murmurs into my hair. i try to lurch forward only for him to hit me in the head making the world go black.----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------chapter two page two

{active movement oli p.o.v.} I come back to awareness with a jump as a hand touches my back I look up to see tt looking down at me "duì bù qî, wô yôudiàn tiào (sorry I'm a little jumpy[Chinese]) he nods and holds out his hand and helps me up out of the van, he looks at me with concern as the movement causes me to moan in pain as the wounds i have gathered over the last few days make themselves known. i brush off his concern with a shrug as i turn to the van and pull ishida out lifting him up on to my hip and watch ss copy this action with Alyssa and tysa grab her free hand smiling at Tysa’s refusal to be as she calls it babied knowing that those rules don’t apply to my cuddles at the end of the day. I look up at shados groan to see cc carefully pulling her out of the car tt runs ahead and comes back with nurses and a gurney we are shuffled into the hospital shado being taken into the back another nurse leads tt cc and ss to a waiting room and a doctor leads me and the children into an exam room.

[firesoulstuff]

Ooh! Bad things happen: Caught in a snare. CC or any Legends ship you like :) Thanks!

I chose to go with the “any Legends ship” option because I had a very good idea for Mixen with this!

Trapped

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13188444/chapters/36982392

Mick is heading back to his room when he hears the faint shouts, and so he stops to listen.

“Help!” The word is so faint, coming from somewhere down the hall, but clear; so he picks up his pace.

The shouts grow louder the further down the hall he goes, his panic increasing when he realizes it’s Amaya’s voice. He breaks into a run at that revelation, not knowing what kind of trouble she could be in but knowing that if she’s resorted to shouting for the help of any passerby it must be bad. Of course he furrows his brow when he nearly misses the door from behind which he’s sure the cries are coming from, because it’s his door; and what would Amaya be doing in his room?

That’s when his eyes grow with absolute terror, the pieces clicking into place within his mind; he knows exactly what’s happened.

After the new girl somehow snuck her way into his room and even more mysteriously got her hands on his novel he… updated, you could say, his security.

He’d kept what he already had; the lock box, the swamp of dirty laundry, the bear trap, the electric shock on the lock box, even the exploding ink. But after New Girl somehow managed to still get into his personal property he’d added one more measure, an old favorite of his.

A traditional snare trap.

Sure enough, when he bursts into the room Amaya is there, suspended from the ceiling by a rope caught around her ankle, and looking none too pleased.

“Uh…” He stutters out, torn between being angry and being sorry. “Wat’cha doing up there?”

He has to smile, there’s no way he can’t once she crosses her arms over her chest and frowns at him, the expression looking absolutely adorable from this angle.

“Oh you know,” she sarcastically bites, “Just hanging around.”

He chuckles, and then begins maneuvering himself around the heaps of laundry on his floor until he is just underneath her. She lets out a shriek when he undoes the rope, but it fades once he catches her and sets her on her feet.

“Thanks,” she grumbles.

“No problem,” he says, “Now, mind telling me what you’re doing in here?”

She looks unamused at first, but it turns quickly to guilt as he stares her down.

“Zari… told me about your novel.” She admits, biting on her bottom lip and making herself look so innocent. “She says it’s really good and… it doesn’t matter, I still shouldn’t have snuck into your room. I’m sorry.”

He hums at her confession and then with a sigh turns around and, being careful as always not to set off any of his own traps, opens up the lockbox and removes the rough version of what he’s been writing.

She looks confused when he hands it to her, and she’s hesitant to take it.

“New Girl’s already gone and run her mouth,” he excuses as he fingers finally curl around the very corner of the stack of papers. “Might as well get a second opinion.”

She still looks weary, but now there is a little smirk breaking through her features now, and he smirks.

He’s still going to get some revenge on New Girl for running her mouth, but maybe it isn’t the worst thing she could’ve done.

[writingkeepsmewhole]

7 Years Of Good Luck

This is part 6 of A Team.  Emily has a panic attack and Andy helps her deal.

Andy Biersack x OC Emily

Warnings: Blood, panic attack, probably language 

I looked behind me to see a girl with long blonde hair with her arms wrapped around Andy's neck. "I take it that's the girlfriend?" I asked Andy "Yes. I'm the girlfriend and you are?" She said glaring at me "I'm Emily the girl your boyfriend kidnapped." I said shrugging and standing up. Being a lady my age with my job you get a lot of dirty looks so her question and looks didn't bother me. "Did you not get the text I sent you last night?" Andy asked I didn't bother staying to see what she said back I started walking around the tent looking for someone to talk to. "Hey what are you doing walking around by yourself?" Asked someone behind me.

I turned to see Ashley there with a slight smirk on his face. "Bored, Andy's girlfriend showed up and she didn't seem happy that I was there so I left." I said shrugging "So what if she didn't want you there she just needs to know that your not hooking up with Andy." "Its fine I'm used to the looks. I'm not worried with it. I'm just going to head back to the bus. Thanks for trying Ashley." I said smiling softly and walked around him. "Alright bye Emily." He said I just waved behind my head not bother looking back.  I started waking back to the bus not understanding why we didnt just walk in the first place it was not that far. I walked onto the bus and walked to the couch. I sat down and looked around the room for something to do. Finding nothing laid back on couch closing my eyes. fuck, I'm bored!" I said sighing "Then do something." Said a bubbly voice that I knew to well inside my head. "The hell you talking about being bored. Your at Warped Tour! Get up and do something!" Yelled the voice of Alexis in my head. I sighed shaking my head. 'I must be going nuts if I'm talking to my dead best friend....' I rubbed my eye feeling my make up smear. 'My best friend is dead.... Alexis was dead-No Alexis was killed! Alexis was killed by the guy that I was whored out to. Alexis was killed because of me!' {What's wrong with you?} 'Nothing....' I thought sighing {You could have just told the bouncer to keep Jack from you.... But no you let it go on to keep getting money....} 'A girl as to eat! I need the money!' {Its all your fault you know?} '....No...' {How could you do such a thing? Letting her die like that.... Just think of what Jack did to her before....} 'Shut up!' {Why, am only saying what's true....} 'Get out of my head!' I though sitting up and shaking my head as if I could shake the thoughts away {Why fight it? Your just wasting space here.... Andy dose not need you here. He didn't even know who you were...} 'I didn't know who he was at first.' {Ah yes but he became what he always wanted, and where are you? A whore.} 'Its not like I wanted to be this....' {But your no good at anything else are you? Your just a waste of space. I would say look at the bright side but I doubt even Alexis would want to be around you now} 'Shut up shut up shut up!!!' I closed my eyes tightly and punched my left thigh knowing the scares that are there. {Come on you know its for the best} 'No! I promised Andy I would stop.' {Ah yes how long ago was that? Three years? I think your over do} I got up from the couch and walked to the bathroom. I closed and locked the door behind me. I looked in the mirror as if I could trap all the bad thoughts in there. I turned on the cold water on sink and washed all my make up off. I looked up in the mirror to see the ugly yellow brown mark covering my right eye and cheek. 'I wonder if anyone could see the mark threw the make up? If they did they hid it well.' I softly touched my face it still being sore. {Ugly whore.} Barked the voice of my father FLASHBACK

16 year old me stood on my toes to get closer to the mirror in the bathroom to fix my eyeliner. I bit my lip and smiled looking at the light purple that faded into a smoking purple eye shadow with the best wing tip I have ever done. It covered all my eye lash line in a dark black making the light purple pop. I smiled even bigger thinking of what Andy would say, he was after all the one that helped me do it the first time. I quickly put all my make up in my room where my dad could not find it. I closed my door and started to walk down the small hallway that lead to the steps. I stopped half way down when the front door opened hitting the wall making a loud bang. "Emily! Get your ass down here now!" Yelled my dad slamming the door shut I knew he could see my feet so there was no since trying to hid. I walked down the steps keeping my head down. "Look at me!" I flinched at his words and very slowly looked up "So its true then. Today my buddy Joey goes on about how he sees you walking around down town with some freak in all black and your have on enough make up on for ten whores! I, being the good loving daddy I am said that it had to be someone else, but I see that its true. So you like wearing this whore make up huh? You think your old enough to walk around with whoever you want?" I didn't say anything not wanting to piss him off more "Well I guess since your so big and bad now I will help you with a few things. First thing your make ups not dark enough hun." Before I could do anything he grabbed my arm roughly and punched me as hard as he could in my left eye. "Don't forget your other eye silly little girl." He said again punching me Everything went black very quickly but I woke up just as quickly. "Falling asleep while I'm trying to help you, well you are being very rude. Now for your next step." He said dragging  me up the steps roughly by my arm. "You want to be a whore well I'll show you how to be a whore." He said throwing me into his room and shutting the door behind him After he was done with me he grabbed me by hair and dragged me to the bathroom with strength that he should not even have left. I was fighting with everything in me to stay awake  let alone walking around. He grabbed my face roughly and made me look in the mirror. "Ah just what you wanted to be a ugly whore." I snapped out of it to the sound of someone banging on the bathroom door. "What?" I said shocked at how my voice cracked I looked up and stepped back as far as I could. The mirror was broken and blood was running down the broken spot. I looked down at my right hand to see the side and some of the palm with a long and slightly deep cut. "Are you okay in there? I thought I heard crying." Said the voice from the other side of the door It was female but I don't know who it was. "I'm fine, just hmm hit my foot on the door." I said as calmly as I could. "Oh okay." They said walking away I think I smiled at the clothes I had on before still in the floor. I quickly cleaned up the blood with them. I used a ripped a part of the shirt off and laid it on the counter. I turned the sink on and cleaned my hand as best as I could with what I had. I quickly wrapped my hand up tightly and picked up the bloody clothes. I opened the door slowly and peeked out. I sighed when I didn't see anyone. I quickly walked to for now my bunk. I threw the blood clothes in it then crawled in after them. I bit my lip when I put presher on my hand but quickly got in the bunk and closed the curten behind me. I closed my eyes tightly hoping I fell asleep quickly or something trying to not think about how small a space this was. I shook my head fighting the voices that were still there. I bit my lip holding back tears. I would not cry, I didn't want to cry over self pity. If I was crying anytime soon it would be the loss of a dear friend not because I hurt my hand, or because I could not deal with a voices that could not really hurt me. I didn't realize I was holding my breath or how long I was even holding it till I heard someone walk down the hall past my bunk. "Hey Emily you awake?" Asked the voice of my old best friend. "Y-yeah." I said kicking myself for my voice cracking. "Hey are you okay?" "Whoa what happen to the mirror?!" I heard CC from the bathroom "What do you mean what dose it look like?" Said Ashley "Come look at it I swear I didn't punch it but that's what it looks like happened." I curled into a ball hiding my hand and the clothes between my legs and chest. 'PLease don't open the curtain' I chanted over in my head. I'm 21 years old I'm to old to be having panic attacks, blacking out and punching mirrors. I could not start doing that again... I closed my eyes tightly when I heard the curtain to the bunk open. "Why don't you come out and talk to me. I would like to catch up with you. I know nothing about you now." "Hey are you alright? You seem scared." Andy said touching my shoulder making me jump. I again kicked myself when I did. 'Stop acting weird!' I yelled at myself. "I'm fine you just- I didn't know you were there." I said turning my head to look back at him and made myself smile. "Em... What happen?" He asked softly stroking my cheek. 'Why is he- Oh that's right I have had make up on every time he has seen my till now.' I thought forgetting about my cheek "Its nothing. Just ran into a wall a while back you know how clumsy I can be at times." I said waving my hand. "Emily!" Andy said grabbing my right hand quickly making pain shoot up my arm. "Please don't tell." I said whimpering softly. I have only been on tour with them a day and I have already broken something of theres. Andy sighed laying my hand down and started to walk back down the hall. I looked down holding back tears knowing that that was what he was going to do. Tell. What else could he do. Lie? As soon as they seen my hand they would know and its not like I could hid in my bunk till it healed. I roughly rubbed my eyes not caring that it hurt and closed the curtain back. I pushed the bloody close to the foot of my bunk and curled back into a ball. I was shocked to hear the curtain opening again and a hand on my back pushing my closer to the wall. Before I could say anything Andy was already in my bunk, laying beside me with the curtain closed. "Turn around." He said It was odd, his voice was so much deeper and rougher then when he left. All the years of smoking and drinking made his more scratchy and dark. But even when he said something as short as "turn around" It was still soft and warm. I didn't feel like I was going to get yelled at as soon as he said it or that he was mad. He didn't sound happy, he just sounded like he was sad. I turned around slowly not looking at him I kept my eyes on the clear first aid box laying between our chest. "Want to tell me why you punched the poor helpless mirror?" Andy asked smiling softly at me as he made me look up at him. "I wanted 7 years of good luck." I said biting my lip and not looking at his face "I think that's bad luck Em." Andy said laughing softly and stroking my cheek with his thumb "No its good luck." I said sticking my tongue out at him "Whatever you say." Andy moved his hand from my face down to my hand and slowly unwrapped the bloody cloth. I was shocked at how he just started to clean and re wrap the wound. I could not help but to watch the way his fingers moved softly on my hand it seemed as if he was not touching my hand at all but he was. His eyebrows stayed together the whole time he worked making him have cute little lines in his forehead. 'Cute? No nothing about Andy is cute! He is just a old friend from high school." I said- well lied to myself. Andy would always be more then just a friend to me. He was my best friend, my shoulder to cry and lean on, my savior, he was my fallen angel. "There done." Andy said ripping me from my thoughts. "Oh umm thank you." "No need to thank me its not like I have never done it before." He said smiling. "Ah yes I did seem to get myself hurt a lot didn't I." "So how have you been?" Andy said changing the topic Made since why talk about my dark past, when there was I'm sure lighter topics to talk about. And that's what we did we talk, we talked about every thing from the first time he played on a big stage to how I got into dancing at the club. To how he got his koala tattoo to, how I got wasted and got my pink car. Both me and Andy were laughing when the curtain to my buck got pulled open by Danny. "Well what are you two love- Oh I thought you were with your girl sorry man." Danny said patting Andy's arm. "Hello to you to Danny." I said shaking my head and laughing softly. "What's so funny?" Asked Ben popping up beside Danny. From where? No idea. "Just that Danny thinks that it was Andy and Juliet back here so he pulls the curtain back all fast but he says sorry because its me not Juliet. So dose that mean he would have not been sorry if it was Juliet?" I asked laughing louder so I covered my hand with my mouth forgetting that it was wrapped up. "What happened to your hand?" Asked Ben and Danny. "I got mad and punched the mirror." I said it like everyone dose that "Why did you punch the mirror?" "She wanted 7 years of good luck." Said Andy shrugging and turning over so he could face Danny and Ben. "I can't see now!" I said pushing his back. "Sorry." Andy said staying were he was. "Fine I'll move." I said moving so my hand was on his arm and my chin was resting on the back of my hand. I moved my knees up to my chest tucking them between Andy's back and my chest. It most likely looked very uncomfortable but oddly enough I was comfy. "Hey are we having a party in the hallway?" Asked CC stopping to stand beside Ben "Yep wanna join." I said giggling "Andy why are you in the bed with her?" Asked CC looking like a confused puppy. "Because I kidnapped him to my bunk because I was bored." I said wrapping my arms around his arm tightly but not tight enough to hurt him. I bared my teeth and made a hissing nose like a cat guarding there pray or young "Man she is nuts I like her."  Danny said laughing. He moved to the bunk across from us and sat down, while Ben and CC went back to the living room part or the bus. "So what are you doing over here man?" Andy asked "Well I came over to play games with CC and was going to ask You if you wanted to join us but clearly you cant leave." "No, no he cant." I said sticking my tongue out at Danny but started laughing I could not help it, it was just funny. I let go of Andy's arm and held my side still laughing. "You can go play will Danny I'm just going to take a nap." I said pushing Andy's back playfully I must have pushed to hard because I was shocked when he fell off the bunk. I coverd my mouth with my hand so I would not laugh. I put my head out of the bunk and looked down to see Andy laying on his belly on the floor. "Are you okay?" I asked biting my lip "No." He moaned shaking his head. I bit my lip and moved down out of the bunks crouching beside Andy I softly patted his head. "Are you dead?" All he did was nod and stick out his tongue and closed his eyes. I giggled and poked his cheek. "What are we going to do with out Batman?" I said in a fake sad voice and shaking my head. "I know I will go to the Joker." "No you will not!" Andy said pinning me to the floor and started to tickly me "Danny! Save me!" I said in between laughs. "Say Batman is better then the Joker." Andy said not stopping "No!" I said trying to getting away from his long fingers "Say it." He slightly growled "Batman is batter then....... Andy Biersack" I said still laughing I laughed harder when I seen Andy's face. He looked hurt but I could tell from his eyes that he was faking. I smiled and used that moment to get out of his grip and fun to the front of the bus. "Hide me he is coming!" I said hiding behind Ben that was standing in the kitchen. "Is she drunk?" Asked Sammi that was sitting beside Jinxx on the couch as the door to the bus opened. "Oh hey do guys know were Andy's at?" Asked Juliet as she closed the door behind her. "He was in the hallway floor." I said pointing to the hall way as I moved from behind Ben "Thanks." She said glaring at me "What did I do?" I asked no one really when she walked into the back part of the bus "She is always like that. She just needs to trust you then you will see that she is a nice person." Said Sammi smiling at me. "Well I hope she dose I'm not found of being glared at." I said walking into the kitchen. As soon as I did Jake walked on the bus. "Hey they are moving up the show dates so I guess we are going to the next one tonight, they want all the bands back to there buses." He said walking into the bus with Ella behind him. "I'll go tell Danny." I said walking past everyone and to the back of the bus. I was shocked to find him sleeping in my bunk. I guessed that Andy and Juliet were in the back room since I didn't seen them any where. "Hey do you care to tell Juliet to?" Asked Jake poking his head into the hallway. "Sure" I said smiling back at him. Oddly enough no one seemed to realiezed that my hand was wrapped or that Andy wrapped it. If they did they didn't act like it. I could not help but smile at the fact that no one seemed to look down on me. Well Juliet didn't seem to like me but I could understand were she was coming from. I'm a old friend of Andy's just showing up. For all she knows I could be his ex or something. I shook my head at the thought. Andy dating me? Yeah right. Haha. "Danny wake up." I said poking his arm softly. I was not shocked when I did get nothing out of him. "Ben!" "What?" "I think Danny died." I said shaking his arm. "Why do you say that?" He asked walking up behind me. "He is all sleepy in my bed. I would like my bed back." I said like a little kid. Maybe it was the fact that I lose some blood with pouching the mirror but I just some how felt really clam and relaxed around everyone here. I don't know if that was a good thing or not. I didn't want to make bonds with everyone. I didn't even know if I was going to stay with them or leave yet. "Danny." Ben said in a high pitched voice right beside Danny's ear. "Fuck off." Danny mumbled in his sleep and pushed at Ben but he ended up hitting my face. "Ow!" I said holding my cheek. As soon as I spoke he sat up straight and hit his head on the top of the bunk, making me and Ben bust out laughing. "Shut up." Danny said moving to get out of the bunk making me and Ben move out of the way. "Aww are you okay Danny?" I asked when he was standing in front of me. "I'm fine love the question is are you okay? Sorry about that by the way I thought you were Ben." "Clearly and yeah I'm okay just now I know to never wake you up again." I said moving my hand off my cheek laughing "Yeah so why did you wake me up?" "Ben will tell you I have to go tell Juliet before I forget." I said waving at Danny and Ben then walking around them. I walked to the back room and knocked on the door hoping that they were not having sex. "Come in." said Andy. I sigh and open the door to see Andy and Juliet sitting on the couch talking. "Hey Jake said something about the dates being moved and all the bands have to go to there bus because we are leaving tonight or something like that." I said sounding confused. Which I was. I have never been on tour I didn't know how it all worked. That was never my thing I was into. "We will be out in a minute." Juliet snapped at me as she moved to sit closer to Andy. "Okay just wanted to let you know." I said smiling back at her then closing the door back. I moved back to my bunk and quickly crawled in. I closed the curtain and covered up. I curled into a ball and closed my eyes hoping I fell asleep quickly and that I don't have any nightmares tonight.