#i just wish cc would shut up already and leave them be

[catharsisxf]

Do I think Chris Carter's comments are insensitive?

Yes.

Do I still hate that he used Scully’s pregnancy for dramatic effect AGAIN?

Hell yes.

However I don’t regret the opportunity in season 10 and especially 11 to witness middle-aged M & S. While I hate that it was up to fanfic writers to make sense of the Conversation on the Pullout Sofa or Scully’s maddening speech at the end of MSIV, revival MSR is one of my favorite genres now. So many wonderful stories came out of this and in my head canon they’re still out there, happy and together.

[ducknotinarow]

[Raph and CC uwu]

Maybe Casey was leaning too much into this cowboy thing for his, and everyone else's, good. At the same time, hoedown's and the like were pretty damn fun, and he'd like to go in with an actual dance partner for once. He knows it's not going to be Raph's thing, but, it's just something fun, they only have to go for an hour if he really hates it.

Regardless, Casey still made sure he was dressed up for it. It was a date after all.

Heading downstairs, Casey smiled, already blushing slightly. Instinctively reaching for his hat, ready to hide his face, as he stood behind Raph,

"Uh, are yer ready t' head out?" He asks, "Can take the horses there if yer wanna?"

| Muse interaction

It was always the plan, at least when Casey originally asked. Raphael was returning home to tell his family of his plans to move in with Casey. Something he greatly wanted to do after all the lame excuses he would make just to see Casey and then deny as if it was further from the truth. The times he buged to take a trip, spending hours to sell why said trip would be worth it to make. Maybe it was the distance between them. Splinter had told him absence makes the heart grow founder once before chuckling and smiling that smile that just always came across as if Splinter knew more than anyone. Raphael couldn't help it though he had fallen for Casey, and he fell hard for them.

Casey had a grip on him what could he say, so or course maybe it was sudden or too soon but when Casey asked it was what Raphael needed to know this was real. It was why he felt everything so intensely when it came to Casey. And Raphael wasn't going to waste his once in a million chance. He knows how it sounds, especially coming from him of all people. But he really felt meeting Casey wasn't just an off chance thing. So he was willing to be a fool and go all in.

Then he was found.

And now his choice to be with Casey may not all just be due to simply wishing to be with his boyfriend almost like running. No one seemed to question it when Raphael said he was going to see Casey. They likely rather he wait till he was more healed but were at least relieved that when he took off it was to go to Casey. And not settle some score.

"Don' start Mikey" was all Raphael gruffes over on his end of the call. Even with him moving away he always called his brothers. Its kind of hard going from being with them all the time to suddenly not. But part of that was Raphael's fault. "I know what ya gonna say I may not be next ta ya but ain't gonna stop me from bapping the back of your head either way."

Though he, of course, missed his brothers don't think anyone could expect him not too. It seemed getting aware after what happened was excatly what Raphael needed. Casey been great for him as he was licking his wounds and healing.

Casey didn't corwd or treat him any different. He still put Raph into his place if he misbehaved. Didn't pity Raph for being broken instead actually got upset and felt bad when Raph started to help him out. It felt good to keep busy though. Busy hands meant he didn't have to wallow. Being around Casey was good for his spirts as well. Always elevated his moods as he got back into teasing them and bickering between them even. Being around the animals he wouldn't admit it was also good for him.

Phone was taken and another voice came over now still teasing over what Raphael was telling them. And they couldn't seem to get enough at how 'country' he was becoming. And it was hard to deny it when it came to his and Casey's plans for the night. Which he was getting grilled over finally giving in "a hoe down."

And the collective laughter had Raphael pull the phone back a little of all times for his service not to suddenly go out. "Shut it." Of course that only spurs his brother on more. "Casey really wants ta go an' ya know. It's a date so sort a gotta go too." Slightly blushing as he leaded back against the nearest wall. Of course they didn't. Leaving Raphael to suffering the privilege thay came with having brothers. The teasing. Only reason he didn't hang up was he sort of missed it. "Yeah yeah laugh it up ya bunch of-"

"Uh, are yer ready t' head out?"

Whatever Raphael was about to fire back with he soon forgot and let his words cut off at the sound if Casey's voice. Turning to look back at Casey only to pause. Beak left to hang open. Casey dressed like he was from a western film already and this wasn't doing Casey any favors on the fact.

But it was doing favors for his looks. Casey was a looker but putting in the effort just seemed to add. He wasn't sure who was talking on rhe phone but hearing his name called repeatedly did seem snap him out of it.

"Casey's here gotta head out." Both working to answer Casey question and end the torment from his brothers. As he hung up and better checked Casey out once they had thier privacy.

"Can take the horses there if yer wanna?"

"Will 'hat be faster?" Was the first thing out of his beak. Walking over as he reached over slightly holding on to the sleeve of Casey's arm as he was getting a better look at Casey. "Cause I don' mind walkin' if means checkin' ya out longer. Not ta mention havin' ya to myself a bit longer?" Raphael smirks a little at the mention. He knows how shy Casey gets at any form of flirting and flattery his way. Wasn't gonna make him ease up though. "Yeah 'm ready though don' wanna waste ya getting dressed up jus' for me after all." Raphael states letting Casey lead the way for them to leave liking still to ride the horses over. Raph was fine with that too.

"Don' worry if I fall behind I'm jus' checkin' ya out. The jeans are doin' justice on the back end here." Raph contuines his less then subtle flirting. "What was that guy's name from the movie ta had us watch the other day?" He waits for Casey's attetion. "Cause gonna take back what I said 'bout 'em now ya could give him a run for that role though." He knows he's laying it on thick but it's hard not too. As they finally make thier way out the door and down the steps. Raphaels tune was changing about going to this thing now that he had the right incentive on what he got out of it.

Yeah being out here with Casey was turly good for him. Even getting him out of the house sure it was so he could oogle his boyfriend but didn't seem like Casey had much issue with that part himself. Raphael moving to slip his hand into Casey's so they could at least fall into the same pace at the moment. As they headed towards the stables together. Open sky above them what felt like a million starts shining down on them.

Maybe Raphael didn't run away from what happened and instead ran to somewhere else. Or better said someone else.

[chippedaxe]

no thoughts just reader wearing a maid dress with the different mcyt. (nsfw)

◢✥◣

Title: Maid Dress Hc's

Warnings: NSFW (Minors DNI), praise, pet names, exhibitionism (not rlly) ???, possessiveness, SUB reader,

Pronouns: They/Them, non specified genitalia

Synopsis: The reader wears a maid dress and here are the mcyt's reactions.

Word count: 1.2k

Note: you guys are so down bad, I love it <3

I KNOW ITS TAKEN A WHILE TO ANSWER, IM SOZ

*I hate the word smirks because it makes me think of Debbie Ryan's weird smile from radio rebel but whatever :/

◥✥◤

cc! Dream

- His face was one of shock, this wasn't expected but was certainly welcomed. "Oh wow Darling, is all this for me?" Dream is just casually sitting in his chair when you come up to him wearing the maid dress "It better all be for me, because I'm not letting anyone else get the privilege of seeing you like that!" Dream is flustered.

- He's torn apart. One side of him wants to keep you private and all to himself but another part of him ones to show you off as a prize to all of his friends, putting you on display and having everyone worship you but not being able to actually do anything to you.

- He'd put his arms behind his head and just watch you, smirking to himself "Do a little twirl for me.." he bites his lip and watches you spin around in your short dress. His pants tighten around his crotch and that's when you know that you're done for.

cc! Sapnap

- "Hey babe, look at me!" you interrupt him while he's on a call with his camera turned off, Sapnap turns around and looks you up and down "Wow darl' that's fuckin' gorgeous.. These guys wish they could see you right now.." Sapnap groaned as he stared at you.

- Sapnap suddenly feels a tad bit flustered as he remembers that the guys can actually hear what he's saying but plays it off anyways, You spin around for him and show him your frills and lace "You're so pretty oh my lord.." he smiles at you.

- Sapnap suddenly grabs you and places you on his lap, signaling you to be quiet as he slowly explores your clothed body. You shut your mouth and try to keep quiet, your breathing becoming heavier as Sapnap slides his hand up your dress.

- Sapnap pushes his fingers past your underwear and slips his fingers inside of you, stopping himself from groaning at the feeling of your warm walls around his fingers. "Come on Sapnap, don't be rude! Show them to us, we're all really intrigued now!" The guys complain "That's too bad because they're all mine.." Sapnap smirks.

cc! George

- He lets out a full on gasp as you enter the room which causes Dream (on the phone) to question what was happening "NOTHING, absolutely nothing!" George is flabbergasted by how you look. You're everything he's ever wanted and you're everything that he needs, George's jaw drops and you can hear Dream complaining again.

- "Sorry It's just my partner, they look SO good!" George gulps nervously as he cant take his eyes off you "Aw, they look better than me? :( " Dream asks jokingly "Everyone looks better than you" George replies "Hey- don't be rude.." you laugh.

- "I think- I've gotta go.. I'll call you back actually" George hangs up on Dream and he stands up, his hands finding their place on your hips as he leans towards you and kisses your lips. George lowers his hands so he's now full on groping your ass, squeezing your thighs as well.

- You let out a soft moan as you feel George's hardness press up against you, the muscle becoming bigger in his pants by the second. "So.. So pretty.. So good.. All mine.."

cc! Eret

- He just sits there in his chair expectedly and waiting for you to come in the room, her expression and whole mood changing the instant you enter the door with the dress on. "What are you wearing? Is- Is there something special?" They're confused but not angry about it.

- Her hands are quickly working to get it off as quickly as you were working to get it on. Eret appreciates every little piece of lace and clothing you put on for them as they take it off, sliding the skirt off and pausing to look at the soaked lace undies.

- His hands massage your thighs gently, admiring you thigh high socks you put on as well. Their eyes wander and they notice you're also wearing thigh garters "So dressed up, and you're all mine.." Eret gets a rush from seeing you like this.

- You. Will. Not. Walk. That is a warning. Eret will 100% guaranteed keep you from being able to walk tomorrow (assuming you could already walk in the first place) by ramming into you at high speeds and bruising your hips.

cc! Karl

- He was already expecting it, he was the one who bought you the maid dress in fact but he just didn't expect how damn good you looked in it. The dress complimented you perfectly, the sight in you in it made Karl's mouth water.

- He will probably try to keep the costume on you, only sliding your underwear to the side to fuck you. He would of course worry about ruining the dress with his cum though "What if this is the last time I see you in this dress?" he doesn't like that thought. He needs to see you dressed up like this for him way more.

- He would grind against you while you sit there looking pretty in your outfit, feeling happy to do it and attend to your every will. Karl is your happy boyfriend and would do fuckin' anything for a hot person like you, and I mean anything.

- He would get so upset if you told him that stream wanted to see the maid dress "Well they can't! This is all mine!" he will pout and keep you to himself "That's not fair Karl.." you remind him "Well- I'll wear the maid dress then! Just not you, who knows who might try to steal you away!" he crosses his arms "I don't know about that but I'm all for making you wear the maid dress" you grin.

cc! Punz

- "Holy fuck!" he tackles you to the bed and pins you underneath him, "Is it my birthday already? Holy shit.." Punz looks down at you. You look up at him with your lust filled eyes, ready for him to just take you.

- "Thought you may like it" you smile "More than just like it! I love it!" his hands won't leave you. Punz' rubs your skin, patting your hips and opening your legs up for him to get between. You close your thighs around your face unintentionally but he loves it, gasping at the feeling of being trapped under you.

- Punz will ruin you and probably ruin that maid dress you were wearing, his teeth ripping the lace underwear so he could have better access to your genitals "h-hey! That was expensive!" you complain. "I'll by you some more if you wear them for me, babe.." Punz hums from under you.

- He will destroy you the moment he actually fucks you, his hips shuddering against your non-stop until you both cum and even then he still isn't stopping. You unleashed a beast and now he won't stop until he's fully calmed down and satisfied.

[rainyamidala]

authors note; hi again!

firstly i just wanted to thank you for the love i got on my two other stories. I am beyond grateful!

I decided to try something different today, that I just made up in my head. I do not believe anyone has done this before me, which is why I say "I created it".

Basically, I spin a wheel with a bunch of fictional characters' names. When a random cc has been chosen, I shuffle my longest playlist at 18h and 3min and make a ff based on the song and character. If it's wished that i do a specific character from a fandom and then randomize a song / a specific artist / show / other way around, i'd love to do so! I’m also going to include the fandoms i am (currently) in, so that requests can be made! im not sure how to make a masterlist 😭

character: Jackson Avery

ship: Jackson x reader, y/n used.

song: I'm your baby tonight by Whitney Houston

pronouns used: she/her

warning: not really a warning but please dont cringe at the slight stuttering 😭 also did not read this through, sorry if there is any mistakes!

y/n started her internship at Seattle Greys, while Jackson started his at Mercy West. When Mercy West was shut down due to economic climate and they merged to form one medical facility: Jackson and y/n grew incredibly close incredibly fast.

From the second she lied her eyes on her, she went out of her mind completely.

She never even believed in love at first sight, but it was like black magic was done on her and she wasn't able to escape it. It being the constant blushing once he pushed her jokingly in the arm - the nervous laughter any time he 'recommended' a guy for her to date. The rapid heart rate - it's getting harder and harder to hide.

Y/n had been ignoring him for a while now, going on the second week. However, he knew something was up, and he was definitely not the first one to notice around the hospital.

He had pulled her into a supply room, hoping to force something out of her.

"I know you've been avoiding me, y/n."

"Wh- What?"

"I know you've been avoiding me. Why?" Jackson repeated, placing both his hands on his hips as he looked down at the shorter woman.

"I haven't been avoiding you." Y/n could feel her heart beat increasing already, and how it beated harder. Not only was she caught in HD quality, but they were also standing incredibly close.

"Then why do you always walk off when I come around, then? And ignore me when i try to talk to you?"

"I .. " She started, shaking her head and looking up to the ceiling, trying to think of something to say - buying time, if you will.

"haven't done any of that."

"You are really starting to piss me off here." He squeezed his eyes half shut for only a second while finishing up the sentence. it's true. The constant ignoring not only made Jackson pissed off - but upset too. They were practically best friends, and he found it weird that this would happen with no warning what so ever. He knew he hadn't done anything wrong. He had even gone to Mark for advice, and he agreed.

Y/n just sighed, looking down at her shoes.

"I think you know why I've.. ignored you."

"Oh, so now you admit to doing it?" Jackson removed his hands from his hip, transferring them into a cross in front of his chest.

y/n looked back up, straight into his eyes before shaking her head. It wasn't a 'no' shake, it was just a shake. Her mouth was opening, but nothing was coming out.

"Seriously?" He said, getting even more annoyed now. It was raining heavily outside, fitting the mood very well.

Y/n's mind is suddenly paralyzed with apprehension. She didn't know what to say - what to do.

"I just,"

"What?" Jackson interrupted, knowing it would be a long pause either way.

"It's just that-" She slid her bottom lip in between her teeth. She was wondering if being honest would be the bwst - or if blowing this off like it was nothing was. She felt .. conflicted, like maybe staying here instead of pushing him out of the way and leave was stupid.

“Ah, you know what Jackson… I can’t remember why. Sorry… Must've just been a busy couple of days." She laughed nervously, which caused Jackson to furrow his brows. He could tell there’s something more than just a busy couple of days, and he was definitely going to push it further.

"Days? It's been two weeks! We're friends, but in this hospital we are professionals first and how you've been acting lately has certainly not been professional."

"Fine. Fine!" By the first 'fine', Y/n's hands were up in the air like someone was pointing a gun. By the second, her hands were thrown down and slapped her tighs.

" I like you. I like you a lot. But because I'm a professional, I can't ... Be around .. You." Y/n looked at the floor by the end of the confession, not wanting to see his reaction. She was shaking her head, too.

Jackson was still. He didn't say a word, just like y/n before.

"Oh, come on. Now you're quiet?" Once again, she laughed nervously.

Jackson sighed, putting his arms down as he straightened his back - before he impulsively kissed her. He kissed her as he put his hands on her face. His nose was pressed up against the bit of her cheek that he wasn't holding, as his head was leaning a bit to the side while doing all this.

A few seconds of doing this, he pulled away. Only a few centimeters, close enough to kiss her lips again.

"It's okay, keep going." y/n said, pressing her lips onto his.

They might not get married - have 10 kids - buy a beautiful house together and live happily ever after, but he's hers for tonight.

[dream-critical]

(Same fan here) I’m sorry. I should’ve have phrased my ask in that way. I shouldn’t have called them just “shitty” views. Dream calls them racist and bigoted and I should’ve done the same. You’re right, it wasn’t an overreaction and those who were angry were rightfully so.

There’s one thing that i want to comment on as it made me realize something. You say he hasn’t proved or shown that he’s changed. But, if you don’t watch him, how would you see the change? I don’t mean for that to sound patronizing as you’re completely justified in not watching him, I just mean that we are likely coming from very, very different perspectives. That’s not a bad thing, but I understand a bit more now.

From my perspective as a fan who regularly watches him, I see the change. It’s him asking for the proper pronunciation of Chinese names when he streamed Genshin and asking for his chat to be respectful of Chinese culture, it’s wishing a happy Ramadan and, when asked, Eid Mubarak to a Muslim fan, it’s being respectful of and interested by astrology when people who believe in it are often mocked, etc. Little, bare minimum things, I know, but they meant a lot to poc fans. This doesn’t reach the people that don’t watch him, but it does allow for a safer space for his fans.

Him changing doesn’t negate what he did. Not at all. It doesn’t change the fact that the edits exist and he’s hasn’t confronted them directly. I just want to explain myself and my perspective a bit, as I realize that my previous ask was insensitive. I’ll leave it here and I’m sorry again.

As a Muslim I'm telling you none of those things show change and also he's being performative, he has done multiple wrong things while trying to desperately appease to muslims so that's one thing you can shut the fuck up about.

Also wow him making jokes about being a Leo totally show he's sooooooooo respectful about astrology. Didn't know people who believe in that were part of a marginalized group /s

The correct pronouciation of a name is basic human decency btw and I refuse to praise a white man for doing the absolute minimum.

Also I was a very avid dream watcher until the clips resurfaced. like I've mentioned multiple times I had a hyperfix on sapnaps content and stanned him as well and since dream is his best friend I've seen a lot of content with him as well. Back then little things he did were just minor things that could have been honest mistakes or I just brushed off bc I did genuinely like him as a cc but now it just makes the bigger picture a lot clearer than it was before.

None of these things show change it just means he's putting a tiny bit of effort into making sure his fans that do still support him have things to cling onto and ignore what everyone else is saying.

Also even if it is change those are all things that happened very very recently while the main argument to defend him is that he already has changed since 2020 so that doesn't hold up either. Which is what you said in your previous ask as well.

To literally quote you, you said "We can’t ask him to stop having a racist sense of humor because he already has, even if the improvements just been in the past year or two when his fanbase was growing."

You're literally just switching up shit to seem right and on top of that, and I'm saying this again to put an emphasis on it, none of the things you mentioned show real change.

They are minor things that are all normal decency. You could argue small steps have to be made before you can get to bigger changes but it's 2 years too late and I don't think any person of colour owes him forgiveness or acknowledgement for it at all.

[comorbidfascination]

Monnk, the Faithful

full fic list here

reader inserts here

there is hardly any information about monnk in canon or legends, so his personality here is my own interpretation

He had figured it was you slipping credits and snacks into the soldiers' besbe'se, but Monnk didn't have any proof until he heard General Fisto scolding you for 'losing' your allowance. You were a sweet little thing, just shy of becoming a Jedi Knight, and Fisto had always spoiled you more than other masters would've.

While Monnk trained to command a battalion, you learned the ways of the Jedi Order. He and his men were chosen to be SCUBA troopers after being assigned to their general, and he was glad to be working with one of the most reputable jetii among his brothers. He was just getting used to underwater combat when he met you.

Your master had brought you in to provide a fresh pair of eyes. In his words, "My padawan will be both teacher and student today. We can all benefit from change, no matter how slight."

You were a natural in the water; graceful and confident. Monnk was glad to have his buy'ce on so no one could see the way his eyes widened and lips parted as he took you in. The water moved aside for your strokes, more polite than when Monnk had stuttered out his name when you asked for it. You had smiled, droplets shining on your skin like pearls. That was how he would always think of you: incandescent.

If not the light, it was your energy that sparkled and glowed. Monnk didn't know much about force signatures, but he was sure that yours was the same as the ripples of sunshine at the bottom of the practice pool.

He had become a commander, and you a general like your master. The SCUBA troopers had been transferred to your leadership when Fisto felt you were ready. Monnk was prepared and willing to follow you to the ends of the galaxy, and he did his duty perhaps a little more excitedly than the other CCs. They respected and worked well with their generals, but he was fairly sure that his vod'e didn't look forward to long pauses in work or battle to just be with them. You had always given Monnk room to exist without pretense. You liked when he took his buy'ce off so you could see his expressions; you made him feel seen.

Unlike many other generals, you were glad to let Monnk and his men have a say in the plans. You were shiny and you knew it, so you relied on him, trusted him. You got his opinion on just about every maneuver, though this didn't always go over well with the other jetii. They thought you moved too slowly, but you were happy to take the long way around if it meant keeping your men safe. During one mission, you had a full-blown argument with another general right in front of him.

"Honestly, are you really going to throw a tantrum in front of your troops? How childish."

Your eyes narrowed and your body instinctively sharpened into a battle stance. "I will not throw my men into a fight they can't win just so the survivors can get to the siege a few minutes faster. For kriff's sake, I've already had to cut one of them out of a drugon's mouth!"

The hologram scoffed, "Just get here."

The blue light shut off, leaving your face in shadow. You sighed, rubbing your temples to ward off a headache. Monnk, who had sent the others away before the call even went through, took your hands in his own.

"Thanks for sticking up for us."

"Somebody's got to." You leaned forward until your forehead thumped against his pauldron. "You do the same for me all the time."

He wished he didn't have to, but your inexperience and hyperactive tendencies looked childish to more than just the jetii. Monnk did not envy the gossip you endured in and out of the Temple. "I'd do anything for you, mesh'la."

"You've been calling me that for so long and I still don't know what it means." He didn't need to see your smile to know it was there.

Monnk cleared his throat, cheeks growing pink. "It means beautiful. Thought it suited you."

You pulled away and looked him up and down. "Suits you better."

He rolled his eyes, fully red faced, and tugged you back into his embrace so he wouldn't kiss you.

"Sure you don't want to?" Damn that force-link. He had let you tether a tiny part of his consciousness to yours to make communication easier, but sometimes you got messages he didn't mean to send.

Monnk cupped your face, searching for any hesitation, and found none. The first kiss was chaste, but you pulled him deeper with every lick of your tongue. When your lips disconnected, he was panting and dizzy. "You are incredible."

You giggled and kissed him again. "Took the words right out of my mouth."

[teletraan-meets-jarvis]

Monster - Part 1

AO3 Link

Characters: Commander Fox (Main), Captain Rex, Commander Thorn, Corrie Medic Triage (OC), Anakin Skywalker, Fives.

Summary: Fives' death through the eyes of Commander Fox.

Warnings: 16+, swearing, mentions of death.

Word Count: 1.6k

Click here for Part 2

Author’s Notes: First trip on the angst train folks. I've had this in my head for ages because I wanted to try something that wasn't relationship focused and I'm still not over this whole storyline with the chips, they were so darn close to exposing ol' sheev. Fox deserves some spotlight but i'm very sorry it had to be on this. I have got a part 2 practically written up already but wanted to test the waters with this bit first. Let me know what you think!! Fic below the cutoff :).

The title is from the song Monster by Starset. If you're after some good sci-fi related songs for the feels, Startset is where it's at.

Under the knife I surrendered The innocence yours to consume You cut it away And you filled me up with hate Into the silence you sent me Into the fire consumed You thought I'd forget But it's always in my head

Each step was quiet, calculated as CC-1010 moved into the storage bay. His men following his lead as they prepared to surround their target. General Skywalker was verbally defending the Chancellor from where he was captured in a ray shield. The target was unaware of their presence, time to move in.

Set to stun.

“Stand down, soldier! Get on your knees!” CC-1010 commanded, surrounded by his Shock Troopers. The target looked over at the unattended pistols. “Don’t do it solider.”

“GET AWAY FROM ME!”

“FIVES NO!”

Threat. Eliminate the threat.

Good soldiers, follow orders.

Set to Kill. CC-1010 never missed.

No.

Rex was screaming.

General Skywalker was ordering the Guard to lower the ray shields, not that CC-1010 could hear him over the ringing in his ears.

No.

The Captain was at his ARC-Trooper’s side, cradling his head. The blaster wound a disgusting contrast to the pure, shiny, white plastoid of his armour. The blaster wound that CC- no, that Fox inflicted.

No no no no no no.

The pistol fell from his hands and clattered to the ground as Fox came back to himself, the only sound which could be heard among the silence apart from Rex’s begging to Fives to stay with him.

Fox tore off his helmet. He couldn’t breathe. Fuck. The weight of what he just did crashed into him like a tsunami, threatening to take him down, tear him apart.

He stared at his gloved hands which shook uncontrollably. He tried to stop them but his brain didn’t have control of his body anymore. His men were looking at him, he could feel their gaze tearing into him like a jury to a defendant. Watching as their Commander fell apart.

He fell to his knees. No longer able to support his own body weight alongside the weight of his actions. He’d just killed another clone. One of his own vode. His own flesh and blood. That’d never happened before. Sure there had been traitors before among the clone ranks, but they’d never been executed on site. They’d never been pursued by Fox. Lucky them.

The chancellors’ orders echoed in his ears. “Eliminate the threat, Commander.”

Not bring him in for questioning. Eliminate him. No court hearing, no hearing Fives’ side like Slick and others before him. Just execution. And Fox was his executioner. Fuck he was going to vomit.

“Rex” Fox didn’t realise he was speaking until Rex’s eyes met his over Fives’ lifeless body, which he continued to cradle like his last hopes in this war.

Rex’s eyes were cold as ice, the power behind them attempting to freeze Fox to his very core. He didn’t blame him.

The heartbreak at losing another member of Torrent Company cracking the Captain’s usually unshakeable composure. As it fell apart piece by piece in front of Fox’s eyes, he was left staring at his little brother. His Rex’ika. Distraught, heartbroken, empty. He wanted nothing more than to protect him like back on Kamino, when Rex was a young cadet who feared the thunderstorms of their home planet. But Fox couldn’t protect Rex from this, Fox was the reason behind his brother’s agony, his loss. Fox was the monster.

“I-…” he couldn’t get the words out. He couldn’t explain himself. What could he say? I didn’t have a choice, I had to follow orders? That wasn’t going to fix the hole left in Rex’s heart. For losing Fives and for losing Fox too, because the Commander was sure he was dead to him.

Rex finally pulled his eyes away and it broke Fox’s heart. The Captain looked back down at his friend in his arms, his brother. He brought his forehead forward as he raised Fives’s, meeting him in one final Keldabe as he recited the Mando’a that had become far too familiar for them all. Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la. He cradled Fives close to his chest and hooked a hand under his legs as he got to his feet.

Rex’s face was stony, emotionless as he carried his fallen brother out of the storage bay. He held himself together as he brushed past the helmet-less Shock Troopers who stood stock still around their shaken Commander. He didn’t even spare Fox a glance. General Skywalker was hot on his Captain’s heels, going to offer support where he could. Just like that they were gone.

“Sir-“ one of the troopers went to place a hand on his Commander’s shoulder.

“Tell the Chancellor it’s done” Fox snapped out, the words tasting like bitter bile in his mouth. He did his best to regain himself as he grabbed his bucket, re-securing it and his emotions behind as strong a wall as he could fortify in his current state. Still shaking hands clasped around the dropped blaster and Fox finally returned to his feet, slightly unsteady.

“Return to base” his orders were flat as they came through the helmet. His soldiers didn’t react for a moment. He looked each of his men over, their shock at watching what happened bared to the world on their faces. He couldn’t take it. “Now.” Finally they nodded and made the move to leave the Gods-forsaken place.

Everything was a blur; people, places, all fading into nothingness behind Fox as he paced back to his office. His safe space. His feet carried him while his mind drifted, almost leaving his body in an attempt to protect himself from the internal horrors that threatened his grasp on reality.

Next he knew he was back in his office, no idea what route he’d taken to get there. The door had barely shut behind him before he stumbled to the small refresher attached and vomited. Choked sobs wracked his body as he emptied his stomach, tears creating salty tracks down his cheeks.

Once his body stopped torturing him, he finally backed away from the toilet and crawled to lean against the ‘fresher wall. His legs sprawled out in front of him as he threw his head back against the cool tiles. The sharp pain from the action doing nothing to bring him back, to distract him from the agony in his mind.

————

“Fox, Fox!! It’s Thorn, are you there?” The heavy gunner shouted from outside, his fists banging on the door demanding entry.

Nothing.

Thorn had heard what had happened, half the Guard already knew by now. Fox had been ordered to execute another clone by the Chancellor. As soon as the confirmation reached his ears, the Commander dropped everything to find his superior. He’d been friends with Fox long enough to know when he was nearing his breaking point, and he knew that this would throw him off the edge of his sanity.

“Kriff, Fox. I’m coming in!” He announced before punching the code in and rushing in to find his friend.

What Thorn found wasn’t pretty. Fox was propped up against the fresher wall, his head covered in a thin sheen of sweat, his amber eyes glassed over as he sobbed. He looked absolutely wrecked.

Thorn dropped to his side and took hold of his hands in an attempt to ground his friend. “Fox, hey Fox, can you hear me?”

Nothing.

“I heard what happened. I need you to come back to us, yeah. Maker, we need you Fox.” That got his attention, Fox’s watery eyes met his, but the Commander wasn’t fully present behind them yet.

“It wasn’t me” Fox choked out in barely a whisper, tears flowing freely again. Thorn moved forward and pulled the Commander into his arms, their armour fitting awkwardly against one another but it was enough. The broken man clung to his brother as he continued to repeat his words in a tear filled mantra against Thorn’s armour.

After what felt like forever, the shudders that tore through Fox’s body eventually died down to something more manageable. Thorn took that as his moment to try and get his Commander sat up again, maybe even get some water in him. He began to pull away slightly so he could look him in the eyes but as soon as he did, Fox started babbling again. At least it was a few more words than before.

“I set the gun to stun, I swear. I don’t know what happened. Once I saw Fives, everything went dark.” He tried to explain with as much coherence as he could. “They’ll never forgive me for this.” Thorn knew who he was talking about, his batch mates. Cody, Wolffe, Bly, Ponds and Gree. Fox had felt that their relationship was strained ever since he joined the Guard and his brothers went out to fight on the front lines. He’d become the cold leader of the Coruscant Elite Guard, he had the ‘cushy desk job’ while they had to watch their men die day in and day out on the battlefield. The sad truth was that they’d never understand the things the Guard had to go through each day. One night after a particularly tough day, he’d listened as Fox admitted that he wished he could provide his men with honourable deaths in battle to save them from their fates within the Guard.

Thorn’s chest felt like a vice as he cradled his friend, trying to absorb some of his pain as if it would help make things a bit easier on him. He’d never seen Fox like this and it was killing him. Why did the Chancellor always place the worst jobs on the Commander, why did he have to keep him so close, right under his thumb ready to make him do the dirty work. Never thinking about the aftermath, because the clones didn’t matter. So long as Fox kept showing up and performing admirably on the surface, the day to day pain and suffering wasn’t of concern to the Republic, least of all to the Grand Chancellor.

“Fox, I’m going to call Triage alright? He’ll know what to do.” Thorn announced softly, not getting much of an acknowledgment for his words as Fox started to drift off in his arms, his body’s exhaustion overtaking him for a blissful moment.

Continue to Part 2

Back to Masterlist

[tkc-info]

Awakened And Sleepless

OCtober 2021 day 3 - duel

2011

“CC, shouldn’t you be sleeping?” Dad asked.

Cal shook her head vehemently. “No! I want to kill zombies with you.”

Dad always let her stay up a tiny bit after bedtime so that they could play video games together. They were currently playing BioShock 2, and Cal liked how one of the main characters was a little girl like herself. She didn’t understand why Dad would rather go who-knows-where.

“We’ll kill the zombies tomorrow.” Dad promised, kneeling down on the hallway to look her in the eye and ruffle her hair “Mum and I are going on a date, and that is very important because we’ve been very busy. Aunt Cora and Sam will stay with you.”

“Mum can kill the zombies with us.” Cal protested.

She liked her aunt Cora and her partner Sam, but neither people played video games. And there was nothing like snuggling against Dad’s chest as they watched the screen.

“I refuse to kill any zombies when I could be dining at a fancy restaurant.” Mum called out from the bathroom, where she was painting her face with boring makeup “I simply refuse. CC, honey, when you grow up you’ll understand how important it is to have a nice date amidst the turmoil of your job.” she then began complaining about the director of the museum she worked in.

As she did so, Dad grabbed Cal’s hand and guided her back to her bedroom. He made to get her to bed, but Cal attempted to stay awake one last time. “Shouldn’t I be awake to say hello to Aunt Cora and Sam?”

Dad quirked an eyebrow at her. “They will arrive a bit late.” Aunt Cora delivered babies, and Sam was a doctor. Cal knew they would arrive late. That’s why she had asked Dad whether she could greet them “For now, only Mrs Bates will be keeping an eye on you. Do you want to say hello to her?”

Cal shook her head. Mrs Bates was the Everitt’s widow neighbour; she was kind enough, but always insisted on pinching her cheek, and joked about Cal behaving more like a boy than a girl. Cal didn’t like to be told that she was like a boy simply for not liking most of what her female classmates did.

“No!”

Dad chuckled and ruffled her hair again. “Then go to sleep, CC. Here,” he took the Peter Pan stuffed doll Oliver had got her for her sixth birthday “take Peter. Mum will come in a moment.” he kissed her forehead “Night night.”

“Night night.” Cal hid her face with her sheets.

She did not want to sleep, and so would not sleep. Cal closed her eyes and kept very quiet and very still when Mum crept into her room to kiss her goodnight. For good measure, she didn’t dare breathe until the main entrance had clicked shut, and Mum and Dad had gone away.

Only then did she kick her sheets aside, roll out of bed, and leave her room. Cal had decided that —if she wasn’t going to kill zombies— she would at least do the best next thing: reading.

Mum and Dad didn’t want Cal’s books in her room because she would ‘stay up late reading’. Which was ridiculously; Cal knew how to manage her time. Be it as it may, they’d hid her precious books in their room, where Cal couldn’t go to in the dead of night. It was all very unfair, Cal thought, but now that her parents were away and she alone (until Aunt Cora and Sam arrived)…

Well, who could blame her?

There was only one bookshelf in her parents’s room. Cal was tall —three centimetres taller than Oliver!— but couldn’t hope to reach the upper shelf her current book was on. Instead, she had to resign herself to some Nathan Drake-moves.

“I wish Tinker Bell were here.” Cal grumbled. She wasn’t a very good climber, and pixie dust was dearly needed. Alas, Tinker Bell hadn’t liked Wendy much, so she probably didn’t want to aid Cal, either.

Cal almost fell twice, but finally was able to get her book and carefully climb down with it on her head. Mission success!

Just as her feet were back on the floor, the front door opened. Cal’s eyes widened: Aunt Cora and Sam were here. They had arrived way earlier than she’d expected. This was bad.

She scurried to her room, trying to make as little noise as possible. In her room, Cal slid her book under the pillow, and covered her whole body with the sheets. By some miracle, she had enough time to fake being asleep so that Aunt Cora couldn’t see what she’d been doing.

“CC, are you asleep?” came Aunt Cora’s low voice, in a murmur.

Cal wanted to say ‘yes’, but bit her lip in time not to.

Soft pads announced Sam’s entrance. “She’s sleeping, my love.” he said. As always, his voice was higher than his girlfriend’s.

“I just want to check whether she’s actually asleep. Are you actually asleep, CC?”

Once again, Cal had to keep herself from answering. She closed her eyes tighter, wishing very hard to be asleep just so that she could wake up when Aunt Cora and Sam went out.

When the couple finally did —long minutes later— Cal felt a strange sense of drowsiness. It felt like she was only half-sleepy.

Cal rubbed at her eyes with her fisted hands, then sat up to take her book. But had she really sat up? There still was a head resting on the pillow. Cal tried to sit up, but she was already sitting up.

Her heart began beating a little bit faster, and she promptly scrambled to turn on her book light. The lamp illuminated the face of a redheaded little girl hugging a Peter Pan doll and breathing evenly. It was Cal; but Cal could look down and also see herself sitting crosslegged on the bed —completely awake.

What was happening?

Pressure built at the back of Cal’s eyes, and tears promptly slid down her cheeks as fear took hold of her. She wanted to tell Aunt Cora and Sam, but when she crept into the living room they didn’t seem to see her. They didn’t care.

And Cal’s body began hurting so much she could hardly breathe, much less talk to get their attention. The only thing she could do was follow a desperate voice —instinct, she’d later come to learn— and crawl back to her room.

She was too scared to talk; couldn’t talk what with her tears and the pain that had lessened but not disappeared.

The voice that had told her to come to her room spoke again. That is you it said, pointing at the grimacing body laying on the bed and this is you, too. it continued, pointing at the body that kept Cal awake.

Cal did not want to have two bodies, and tried to tell herself this was all a dream. She was dreaming. She was dreaming. She was dreaming.

She was not dreaming.

Nothing had prepared her for splitting into two. Mum had told her kids like Cal grew very fast, and Aunt Cora that one day Cal would have to go to her clinic for something very important. But Aunt Cora had talked of Cal when she became thirteen or fourteen, not six. And Cal knew how kids her age should grow because Oliver had explained it to her at recess.

Kids weren’t supposed to grow a second body.

The only reference Cal had to something similar was Peter Pan and his shadow; but the body on her bed wasn’t night-black, and neither was it the one she could control. They were identical copies.

Cal tried to glue them together, still. She got on her bed, caught her sleeping body’s limp arms and tried to fuse them with her other body’s. To no avail: Cal wouldn’t have had more success trying to fuse with Oliver.

Fear was replaced by frustration and desperation. She tried again, again, and again. And nothing. Cal couldn’t have told how long she spent fighting with herself to become one with the sleeping form —just that she couldn’t achieve her goal.

It was like duelling with a statue. One body would give her all, and the other nothing. But still the former would win, always.

Cal wasn’t crying anymore. She doubted it was because she’d become braver, but rather because no more tears would fall. She tried to seize the opportunity and regain some semblance of normal breathing. Maybe she should try a different strategy?

Sitting at the sleeping body’s right, Cal closed her eyes and tried to fuse it with herself gently. She tried to coax it into the union.

At first, nothing occurred. But the feeling of semi-drowsiness she’d had when this mess started eventually returned. Cal could feel herself awake and sleepy at the same time; could feel both her bodies. She tried to push them together, bend them into submitting to her wishes.

Her sleeping body’s eyes fluttered open.

Just as Cal thought she’d succeeded, a wave of pain clouded her vision and loosened her hold on the bodies’s connection. It was the worst pain she’d ever felt, and knocked her out.

Into her sleeping body.

Finally whole, the pain subsided; Cal’s heart calmed down ever so slightly. She tried to get to sleep, but could‘t without feeling her body begin to split. So, she didn’t sleep. Instead, she only focused on remaining calm. Breathing in and breathing out. Breathing in and breathing out.

But Cal only reached five breaths before someone burst into the room and turned all the lights on.

“Good morning, CC!” Mum announced as she and Dad rushed to her bed “We’ve missed you so much.”

Cal blinked, barely processing Mum covering her in kisses.

“Princess, shouldn’t you let her wake up?�� Dad asked.

Mum tsked. “Don’t be like that.” she told him, giving him a kiss, too. But this time on the mouth and long enough for Cal to understand what was going on.

Was it morning? How long had she been awake —or half-awake?

“Have I been dreaming?” Cal asked her parents once they drew back. Mum and Dad knew everything.

“Of course you’ve been dreaming.” Mum tucked a red lock behind her ear “That’s what people do when they sleep.”

Cal felt suddenly very uncomfortable. It had all been a dream, right? And yet the lingering pain in her head implied otherwise.

“Did you have a dream?” Dad asked her.

Tentatively, Cal nodded. “I had a nightmare.”

She tried to believe her words. Yes, what had happened tonight had been a nightmare. She was now out of it, and would have no trouble sleeping next time.

That’s what Cal told herself the day she awakened to the doppelgänger insignia. And the day after that one, and the subsequent months that followed it. It was only when she’d come to reluctant terms with her Split —and shame had made a secret out of it— that she wondered:

Why?

@oc-growth-and-development @wagnerthedragon @iloveallmyocs @littleturtle95

[gendercraft]

Outlast: Revisited [Chapter Four: Waylon]

Read on ao3

Synopsis: I’m rewriting Outlast where the first game and Whistleblower are combined, Miles and Waylon are more connected, and also they kiss

Trigger warnings: Sexual assault plus everything already in the game; eye gore

Waylon hopped out of the vent into a tiny, mostly bare room. A Variant sat in the corner, hugging his legs with his face buried in his knees. A metal storage crate barricaded the door. 

“You mind if I move this?” Waylon asked quietly. 

The man shook his head. 

Waylon swallowed and braced himself against the crate. His weak muscles trembled and strained as he pushed. Holding back a groan, he squeezed his eyes shut. When it was finally out of the way he shook his hands out and sighed. 

Poking his head into the hall, he bit his lip. It was empty, the walls covered in plastic, emergency lights still blasting. The rest of the lights had gone out. There were several dead bodies littering the hall, blood smeared on the plastic. One body was completely ripped in half, torso from legs, guts spilling into the floor. 

He snuck into a security room and shut the door behind him. Through the window to a decontamination chamber, a man in scrubs pressed his hands to the glass. 

“Help me, please!” He cried. “I’m a doctor! I need to get home to my…” His eyes widened. He spluttered for a second, then said, “You’re not security. I was… I’m a patient,” he said carefully. 

Waylon stepped closer, brows furrowed. 

“I stole these clothes from a… dead body I found. You gotta let me out of here. Please. Just push the button, open the door. We can get out of here together!” 

Waylon hesitated. He wished he’d recognized the man—if it were really a doctor, he’d leave him to rot, but he couldn’t risk hurting a patient, could he? Fuck. He slammed his hand on the button. 

The doors slid open, and a Variant with a grimace and a red face stepped inside. The doctor/patient gasped and stepped back. 

“No, no!” 

“All of you,” the Variant snarled, grabbing the back of the doctor/patient’s head and slamming it into the glass. Waylon stepped backwards with wide eyes, “doctors and liars.” 

He slammed the man’s head into the glass, over and over and over and over again, thunk, thunk, crack, thunk, blood spurted everywhere. Slipping out of its socket, the eye was crushed against the glass. Blood dripped from his mouth and nose and eyes. Crack! Thin lines stained the glass like a halo. 

Waylon felt sick. Gagging, he backed up until he was pressed against the door. He couldn’t tear his eyes away. 

The Variant thanked him, then left. 

He’d never seen a man die before today. Never seen a dead body outside of a coffin. Dozens in the last few hours, murdered and worse. The look in the Variant’s eyes, the raw anger, as he crushed the man’s skull… There was no real difference between the doctors and patients now. They were all crazy, all sick. 

And what was Waylon? He watched a man die and only thought, it’s not me, thank God. 

He knew he’d die someday. He didn’t want to be murdered. 

Waylon stumbled out of the room and made his way to the airlock. It sprayed him with that awful-smelling green gas, then let him through. The corpse watched him as he left. He crept through to the closest exit he knew of, but it was jammed and blocked. Dead Variants littered the ground. 

A file caught his eye. He picked it up with shaking hands. 

 From: j.blaire@murkoffcorp.us.com

To: h.grant@murkoff.us.com

Subject: Resignation for Mental Health, CC 8208 

Ms. Grant, 

 You may receive requests for information from a Mrs. Lisa Park, of Leadville, CO, in the coming weeks concerning the resignation and hospitalization of her husband, Waylon. If so, please forward them to my personal attention. 

 Waylon’s stomach lurched. Lisa? Oh, God… 

 Waylon Park (former consulting contract 8208) resigned due to previously undiagnosed mental illness. I personally visited Mrs. Lisa Park and her sons and broke the news to them, with the “silver lining” that Murkoff Psychiatric would be graciously providing treatment. 

 Mrs. Park had some less than charitable things to say about myself and the Murkoff corporation. I assured her that with her power of attorney she could try to fight the doctors’ diagnoses of her husband’s illness. 

 However, if it were discovered that he resigned under false pretenses, his insurance would be cancelled and the family would be saddled with not insignificant healthcare debts. 

 The paper crunched in Waylon’s fist. 

 Hopefully she understood. 

But if she insists on making a nuisance of herself, or tries to get around me, please let me know. This is one I want to take care of personally. 

 Yours, 

Jeremy Blaire

 Waylon shoved the paper in his pocket. Please say she let it go. Please let her be okay. 

 Blaire’s voice echoed in his head. 

“Somehow not smart enough to realize that the last thing a fly ought to do in a spider’s web is wiggle.” The laptop cracked on the ground as Blaire dropped it. “Somehow dumb enough to think that a borrowed laptop, onion router, and firewall patch would be enough to fool the world’s leading supplier of biometric security.” He tapped his forehead. “Stupid, Mr. Park. More than stupid. In fact, that was crazy!” A sick grin spread across his face. “I’m afraid we’re going to have to have you committed. Mr. Park, will you willfully submit to forced confinement?” He glanced over his shoulder at the three armed security guards that followed him. “Did you hear that, agent?” 

Waylon’s heart slammed against his chest, his fingertips. The fear burned hot in his abdomen, sweat gathering on his brow. 

“He said ‘yes,’ Mr. Blaire.” 

“Great!” Blaire waved his finger. “Oh, and… did I just hear Mr. Waylon Park volunteer for the Morphogenic Engine program?” 

“That’s what I heard, Mr. Blaire.” 

“That was brave, indeed, Waylon. The Murkoff Corporation and the onward march of science both appreciate your bravery… and sacrifice. Maybe you should administer Mr. Park here a light anesthetic?” 

“Gladly.” The front guard stepped forward and wound his arm back. 

Waylon raised his hands. Blinding pain rippled across his face, and his eyes rolled back into his head. 

Waylon ground his teeth together so hard something cracked. He would get back to Lisa and the boys if he had to tear through the entire asylum. 

The next airlock was broken, so he climbed atop a stack of crates covered in a blue tarp and dragged himself on top. Army crawling across, he jumped to the ground. It was pitch black in the hall. He raised his camcorder and flicked on the nightvision. 

He found himself in the cafeteria. Body parts were strewn across like decorations. Someone hummed and mumbled nearby. Bodies hung from the freezer’s ceiling like cured pigs. Flesh teared in the cafeteria, munching. Hands shaking, he crept into the kitchen. 

Waylon gagged. Blood boiled on the stove like someone was making fucking spaghetti, an arm and a hand poking out of the bubbling warmth. He entered the dining area, and behind the glass of the bar, blood splattered across the copious amount already caked on. Around the corner, then he zoomed in to look through the glass at the naked, bearded man sawing into a corpse. 

Keeping his camera up, Waylon’s eyes watered. He stepped forward. 

POP!

The microwave beeped and the head inside exploded. 

“Oh, God,” Waylon choked out. 

“Don’t you look at us,” the man snapped. “I love him.” He pulled out an organ and dropped it into his mouth. 

He chewed with his lips open, blood spurting, tissue tearing. Waylon stumbled back and hurried out of the room. He doubled over and gagged, choked, trying to vomit but nothing coming up. 

Sitting on the ground, he set the camera down facing him. “Don’t ask to see my body, Lisa,” he choked out. “When I die, when you finish the lawsuits that let you pry this footage from Murkoff’s army of lawyers and corporate hitmen, don’t make them show you my body. Just bury it. Or burn it. Let my sons remember me whole.” He looked away and squeezed his eyes shut. “That man is eating human flesh,” he whispered. “He looks at me and I see anger. A little desire. But more than anything, hunger. Please don’t make them show you my body.” 

He grabbed the camera. He didn’t plan on dying, but he would not risk not warning Lisa. 

He passed through a locker room and into a hallway, towards a grated door. A corpse hung by the wrist to set of handcuffs, looped through the grate, holding it closed. He had to get through there to get to the prison, get to the radio. 

“Fuck,” he whispered, yanking at the handcuffs. He’d have to find the key. There had to be a security guard around here somewhere. 

Across from the grate was a boarded up door. The glass above it was broken. He climbed atop the desk resting there and pulled himself through the broken window, hissing as glass cut across his thighs. 

Keeping an eye out for the key, he crept down the hall. Bzzzz! 

Waylon dropped to the floor as the cook came into the hall. His eyes glowed in the infrared, slowly surveying every inch of the blackness. There was that desire in his eyes, that hunger. Waylon kept the camcorder up and swallowed, his skin crawling. Out of all the people in Mount Massive, he did not want to be in the hands of the cook. 

He thought about turning around and finding an alternate way to the prison, but it would take too much time. He’d just have to be careful, quiet. He crept forward. The hall went forward and then to the left, with a room to the right. As the cook disappeared into the room to the right, Waylon hurried forward, still low to the ground. His eyes were on the corner. If he could just get around the corner, maybe he wouldn’t be seen. 

His foot crinkled on a sheet of plastic hanging off the wall. He froze. 

“I can smell you!” 

Shuddering, Waylon crept further into the darkness. 

“Feed me! Feed me! FEED ME!” 

The saw buzzed, bzzz! 

Just keep moving, Waylon. 

He crawled forward in the hall and turned the corner. The man was still busy in the room to the right. In the turn of the hall, the walls were lined with wooden doors. He crept into the first one just long enough to catch his breath. It was bare with just a stack of mattresses on a metal bedframe, no key in sight. He stood up halfway and peeked open the door. 

The hall was empty. He swung the door open and snuck out. 

“MINE! You are mine!” 

The voice was right behind him. He broke into a sprint, just in time for the buzzsaw to catch the hairs on the back of his neck. 

“Fuck!” He gasped, skidding to a stop at the blocked end of the hall and slamming his fist into the door as he barged inside. 

He ran straight across the hall to the next door, barging through that one as well, leading him into a room full of storage shelves and crosses on the wall. A dead end. He looked around wildly, a place to hide, a place to escape. 

“Feed me! Feed me! FEED ME!” 

Waylon whipped around. The cook grinned, blood glinting on his teeth, white in the night vision. He swung the buzzsaw and Waylon leapt backwards. Tripping over his own feet, his back smacked against the ground. The saw came over the cook’s head, and Waylon rolled out of the way, only for burning pain to rip through his leg. 

“FUCK!” He staggered to his feet and felt frantically at the blood dripping down his calf. 

Another swing, Waylon brought his hand up, a slash down his palm. He whimpered and stumbled backwards. 

Then he saw it—an open vent sat above a desk. He ducked another blow and dashed for the vent. His collar caught and he choked, his eyes watering. The cook dragged him backwards and threw him into a shelf. His chest and knee and elbow slammed into the corners. Wheezing, he made another break for the vent. He shoved past the cook and leapt onto the desk as all the lights flicked on. 

The buzzsaw caught the bottom of his foot as he dragged himself into the vent. He curled into a ball and hissed through his teeth. His blood smelled of iron, it was all he could smell, all he could think. He sat up as best as he could, cramped in the little square space, and looked for a seam to rip with his teeth. The cook grunted and cursed as he tried to get into the vent, only to turn and leave the room. 

“I’ll find another way…”

Waylon found a seam in his pants and ripped off what fabric he could. It wasn’t even or clean, but it was long enough for him to wrap around his calf and tie tight enough to hurt. He ripped off another piece for his foot, and another for his hand. 

He was shaking when he dropped to the ground. His foot burning, he bit back a whimper. 

A Variant stood in the corner. He was dressed, thank God, but bandages wrapped around his eyes. 

Waylon held his hands up as the Variant stalked towards him. “Hey, hey… What’s going on, man?” 

“I have an itch.” 

He cringed. “I can’t help with that. Want me to get those bandages off?” 

The Variant shook his head. What could be behind the fabric? 

Waylon swallowed. “Your clothes… you come from upstairs?” He wasn’t wearing the standard jumpsuit the Morphogenic volunteers wore. His clothes came from the Male Ward. 

“Yes.” 

“So you can get around safely, you know how to not get caught?” 

The Variant hesitated, then continued forward. Waylon stepped back. “I can move around.” 

“I need you to find someone for me. Can you do that? I can switch out your bandage for something cleaner.” 

“...okay.”

“There should be an investigative journalist running around here somewhere—”

“Miles Upshur.” 

Waylon blinked. “Y… yeah. How’d you- how’d you know?” 

“He’s been… talking to everyone. Trying to. In the abandoned sections. Headed to the basement, last I saw. Why do you need him?” 

“Find him,” Waylon begged, “tell him Waylon Park, the whistleblower, is headed to the prison. I’m going to get help.”

He stopped walking. “You’re the whistleblower?” 

“Yes,” Waylon said uncertainly. 

“I’ll find him for you.” 

Waylon found a seam in his shirt sleeve and ripped it free. He carefully pulled the bandages away from the Variant’s face. In the sockets, the eyes were completely eviscerated, nothing but bloody pulp. Waylon felt like gouging his own eyes out with a spoon. He bit back a gag and pulled the new bandage around his eyes. 

“Get those clean,” he mumbled, then patted his shoulder. “I need to go.” 

Waylon was back towards the labs, plastic lining the glass walls and laptop carts clogging up the halls. He wasn’t sure if the handcuff key would be around here, but he was just grateful to be away from the cook. 

He looked around for a tense couple of minutes, stepping quietly and keeping an ear out for any buzzing, before he finally found a bathroom with a dead security guard. He snatched the key from the man’s belt and sighed in relief. 

All he had to do now was get back. 

He found his way back to the main hall and stuck his head out the door. The cook grumbled to himself, peeking inside a room, saw buzzing beside him. Waylon swallowed and crouched. He crept into the hall and around the corner. 

If he comes this way, I’m fucked. But the barred door he originally jumped over was in sight. The cook was not agile, couldn’t follow him. It was Waylon’s only strength here. 

He cursed himself, then broke into a sprint. 

“MINE!” 

His feet slapped the floor as the cook raced behind him. Vaulting over a turned over bed and leaping onto a desk, he scrambled up through the window again, the broken glass making more cuts across his thighs. 

Waylon stumbled to the ground. His vision blurred, his head hot. Panic? Blood loss? Both? Whatever. He got the key. 

Unlocking the handcuffs, the corpse’s arm slipped out and thunked to the ground. With shaking hands, Waylon pulled the handcuffs out of the lock and swung the grate open. 

It led into the crematorium. He headed down a short staircase and crept into the room. His heart was still racing, his legs still equipped to run. Something banged on the nearby door as he passed the ovens. He nearly jumped out of his skin. 

Backing up, he watched the door shake again, then stop. He hesitated. 

I have to go this way. 

He watched his steps, stepping over broken glass and litter. The second he passed the door slammed open. The cook grabbed him by the neck and threw him onto his back. Waylon wheezed and kicked, the wind knocked out of him. The cook hauled him onto a wooden slab and raised the buzzsaw. 

“This meat is mine,” he cackled. 

He brought the buzzsaw to his chest, slowly inching forward until red splattered. Waylon threw his head back and screamed. Then the cook pulled the saw away. 

Grabbing Waylon by the legs, he shoved him backwards. The heat of the oven burned the back of Waylon’s head. 

“You stay there,” he grinned, “and cook!” 

Then he threw Waylon into the oven, and slammed the door. 

@wasnt-hiding-in-cuba-for-7-years asked for waylon torture porn so here’s me delivering the best i can this early in the story. more whump later, hope you enjoyed lol 

[toutallyahoe]

Flirt 2 ~ Shinsō Hitoshi (BNHA)

Requested By: --

A/N: i... this was supposed to be only around 1000 to 1500 words-- BUT SADLY THE GREMLINS IN MY MIND IS LIKE "1500 WORDS??? PFFT-- NAHHHHHH! HERE'S 2000!!!"

Flirt | Flirt 2 | Flirt 3

─────────────────

The smell of sweet and freshly baked pastries mixed with the scent of newly brewed caffeine filled the air of the cafe. There was a jingle of bells as people come and go to the aswell as the chipper voice of the old yet sweet looking person behind the counter greeting everyone who entered a happy "welcome!"

The cafe was small. Not too small to feel cramped though, but rather small to feel all homey and relaxing, like those visits you go to your grandmother's home that were close to the countryside or seashore with their small, yet homey looking home that filled you up with warmness when you first entered. The nostalgia it gives off as you remember fond memories when you were younger in that place. CC Cafe was just like that. Small yet homey looking it was from its cream and brown that painted the interior of the walls of the cafe. Small trinkets and ornaments aswell as paintings here and there that decorated the walls of the cafe and it gave a rather unique look on it. Tables aligned each other perfectly and people occupied them with smiles.

There was a small area near the glass wall that you can see through to watch the streets that filled with people walking along. The area had a couples of cozy looking beanbags and two small tables with one bookshelf that were filled with books to pass the time. Two people currently occupied the area as they read a book they either brought or had taken off from the bookshelf, their orders on the small tables.

What really caught anyone's attention though was the animals walking around the cafe with no care in the world and even have the guest of the cafe have in their lap or next to their chair. Some even on top of the table which baffled [Name] if he had to be honest. The [Hair color] haired male never was one to come into these kinds of cafe frequently as it seemed to be a bit weird to visit a cat cafe when he already has a cat of his own. Yes, it was cute but kinda odd if he had to think about it. But when the [Hair color] haired looked at his companion, he couldn't help but throw his thoughts about the cafe away as a grin formed on his lips.

[Name] had brough Hitoshi to a cat cafe. A cafe where cats run around, both well behaved and either energetic to interact with guest or just lazing around on the seats that no one can really mind. It was a very cute and homey cafe and Hitoshi seemed to have forgiven him from being late earlier ago and also retracted his plans on making [Name] go broke by buying more expensive stuff to eat which the [Hair color] haired male and his wallet was thankful for.

The two young male's had already arrived at the cafe around thirty minutes ago and they had occupied themselves on a table near the windows. Their coats taken off and placed on the unoccupied chairs beside them as the cafe was rather warmer than outside. Their orders sitting on top of the table as neither of the two seemed to care to pick it up yet as the two were busy doing their own thing. [Name] couldn't help but feel proud for himself as he watched his indigo haired companion who sat on the opposite side of him was playing with a cute cat that has a lovely shade of white with brown spots in their body. From its collar that had a cute cat shaped pendant saying its name was Choco.

The atmosphere on the cafe was rather nice. There was mindless chatter from the other occupants and the sound of bells from the entrance of the cafe would jingle to notify people had come and go. The meowing of the cats and the giggles of young girls as they played with them. Every occupants enjoying the relazing atmosphere of the cafe. And Hitoshi and [Name] were no exemption from it.

"Woah!" [Name] let out in surprised as a cat had jumped into his lap and made itself comfortable and laid there. "You scared me there, little guy," [Name] mused. A small laugh leaving his lips as he adoringly pat the fat and orange tabby cat on his lap. [Name] looked at the collar of the cat on his lap as saw its name was Donut. "So, your name is Donut, huh?" The [Hair color] haired male said to himself as the cat let out a meow at him.

[Name] surprised yelp caused Hitoshi to spare him a glance to know what happened to have his friend to be noisy all of a sudden when he was uncharacteristically quiet, but then went back to the cat on his hand when he saw it was no big of a deal and just saw thay the [Hair color] haired male have a small cat problem.

It was nice and relaxing. After awhile of mindlessly petting the cat bamed Donut that made itself comfortable on his lap, [Name] decided to eat his orea cheesecake that he ordered. The [Hair color] haired male would occasionally spare a glance his indigo haired companion who was too busy to notice his glances. A soft and adoring smile on his lips as he watches Hitoshi be so relaxed and happy, not like his usual tired and brooding self. It made [Name] happy to know his friend was enjoying himself.

In a moment, [Name] felt something inside him burst as he saw Hitoshi just being all happy and adorable with the cat he was playing. Not a care in the world. No tiredness in his purple colored eyes but fondness as he played with Choco. [Name] paused at his eating just to admire his indigo haired companion. Hitoshi was his friend, yes, but Hitoshi was also someone who happened to capture his heart. [Name] liked Hitoshi. And he says that every single day.

"You seem to enjoy yourself, Hito-chan," [Name] commented as he watched Hitoshi paused on playing with the cat to give him a glance. There was a small smile on Hitoshi's lips as a soft taint of pink in his cheeks.

"Yeah... I am," Hitoshi had said as he looked back at the cat that purred when he patted its head. "Cats are... well... they are nice..."

[Name] couldn't help but smiled at how Hitoshi seemed to act so embarrassed and vulnerable. Cats were one of the indigo haired male's soft spot and he enjoys seeing his friend just be like this. Happy and nice. He was relaxed and wasn't thinking about how cruel the world is.

"Hito-chan is acting so cute today," [Name] had teased. "Well, Hito-chan is always cute, but today seemed to be more!" He continued as the indigo haired male flushed at his words for a moment then glared at the [Hair color] haired male.

"Shut up, weirdo," Hitoshi grumbled. "And stop calling me that!" He said as he went back to paying attention to Choco who meowed loudly from the lack of attention and not pay mind to his friend who let out a cry at his words. Hitoshi could only shake his head at his friend's overdramatic tendencies yet a small smile on his lips from amusement. No matter how many times he hangs out with the [Hair color] haired male, he still doesn't get why he was like this, overdramatic and had his heart on his sleeves. But nevertheless, the indigo haired male was rather thankful. [Name] was... a decent guy.

There was a comfortable silence between the two males. It was nice. Hitoshi continued to pay attention to Choco who purred at his affection and would occasionally take a drink from the drink he had ordered while [Name] had took out his phone awhile ago and seemed to by playing with it, yet he often looked at his indigo haired companion and smile on how cute and adorable Hitoshi was as he intercated with Choco. One hand patting the sleeping cat on his lap.

"Hey Hito-chan?" [Name] called out. Hitoshi hummed at [Name]'s call. Already tired on trying to correct the [Hair color] haired male to stop calling him on that ridiculous nickname. "You're purrfect," [Name] cheekily said as a grin formed on his lips when he saw Hitoshi froze for a second and then turned to look at him. A deadpanned look on the indigo haired male's face and it made the [Hair color] haired male burst up in laughter.

"What?" [Name] laughed. "Cat got your tongue?" He continued through his laughter and Hitoshi could only groan from the stupid puns his [Hair color] haired companion was throwing.

"Those were horrible," Hitoshi had grumbled as [Name] seemed to gather himself, still occasionally giggling like a mad man from his puns.

"Awe, come on, Hitoshi," [Name] pouted. The usage of his given name and not the stupid and ridiculous nickname made the indigo haired male perked up and looked at his [Hair color] haired friend. There was a smile on [Name]'s which was rather nice. It was that smile that gives you some warm feeling-- not that Hitoshi can really say as to him, that was the smile of a mischievous bastard because of the glint of mischief on those [Eye color] eyes of [Name]'s. "Don't be such a sourpuss, those were some paw-some jokes!"

Hitoshi regrets being [Name]'s friend. He regrets it so, so much.

The indigo haired male groaned at [Name] terrible jokes as the [Hair color] haired male laughed at his annoyance.

"You have got to be kitten me..." Hitoshi grumbled but then freezed in his place, eyes widening as his face flush in embarrassment. The indigo haired male let out a curse at himself as he wished the earth ate him whole right that moment when he heard [Name] laughed louder from his mistake. Due to the [Hair color] haired male's loudness, some patrons of the cafe turned to look at them which made Hitoshi flushed brighter in embarrassment.

"Oh my! H-hito-chan?!?" [Name] sputtered as he continued to laugh to his hearts continent. It took almost a whole five minutes to have the [Hair color] haired male gather himself back and shut up but the damage was already done. [Name] wiped some ears from his eyes as his stomach ache from laughing to hard. Donut, the cat that was sleeping on his lap had awakened and has hissed at him when he was laughing loudly but still stayed there.

"You gather your shit back now?" Hitoshi grumbled as he did not look [Name] in the eye and instead just focused on the cat on his lap.

"Oh, I'm fine," [Name] had chuckled. "I'm... feline fine," he said but then burst out laughing again which made the indigo haired male hissed at him.

"I swear, I'm going to leave you here," Hitoshi grumbled which made the [Hair color] haired male bit back his laughter and tried to composed himself. He just can't help himself. It made his day when Hitoshi unconsciously said a pun and he just... he found it adorable.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," [Name] chuckled as he shakes his head. "Sorry for laughing at you, Hito-chan," He apologized yet it seemed to be not sincere from his tone that seemed to be so carefree and happy.

"Whatever..." Hitoshi grumbled. The indigo haired male focused on Choco again as he didn't want to give himself further more embarrassment. [Name] already embarrassed him enough from earlier and now here in the cafe and he just want to slap the guy. Hitoshi decided to just buy more of that Chocolate Gateau which looked rather tasty and beautiful, perhaps more of the the Purin aswell as it looked rather mouthwatering. His [Hair color] did promised that he will pay for everything they will eat, so Hitoshi will make use of that opportunity. Nodding at his thoughts and pleased with his plan to make the poor [Hair color] haired bankrupt, Hitoshi did not see [Name] softly smiling at him.

There was a certain fondness on [Name]'s eyes color eyes as he watched Hitoshi looked rather pleased and happy, not knowing that the indigo haired male was planning for his wallet's demise but it seemed that it didn't matter for that moment when the [Hair color] haired male look at Hitoshi. The indigo haired male just made him feel things, Hitoshi didn't even have to do anything but just be himself. Chuckling at himself for thinking like a blushing school girl with her crush, [Name] really couldn't help himself.

"Hey Hito-chan?" He called to Hitoshi. The said male only hummed to his call. [Name] smiled and shakes his head at that. "I like you," the [Hair color] haired male confessed.

Hitoshi looked at [Name] and blinked. What did his friend just say? The indigo haired male raised a brow at his [Hair color] haired companion who gaved him a large grin. There was something inside the indigo haired male happen that he couldn't put his finger what but he knew for a certain that [Name] was just saying things. [Name], after all, always says things like these.

"Yeah... whatever," Hitoshi had brushed off the [Hair color] haired male's words as he rolled his eyes. The indigo haired male went back to paying attention to Choco and thinking of ordering some stuff again. Not seeing the falter of [Name]'s grin at his actions nor the flash of sadness on the [Eye color] eyes of his companion.

─────────────────

< PREV | NEXT >

[star-wars-scribbles-ff]

Where I Belong | Chapter 1 | Prologue

Story Summary: The only family she’d ever known gave her a name; back when she belonged to something. But when that family is lost, she leaves it all behind. When destiny drops her in the last place she ever wanted to be, she has to earn back the trust and respect of the Republic that left her to die. Caught between the Jedi and the Grand Army of the Republic, she'll discover where she belongs.

Fandom: Star Wars | Galaxy Far Far Away

Rating: T+

Story Genre/Warnings: action/adventure/found family | war violence, death, torture, discrimination, angst, fluff, [more]

Words: 13,623

Disclaimer: Majority of properties within this fanfic are owned by Lucasfilm/Disney. My OCs, as well as a few other things within this fanfic are of my own creation. Republic Cog header made by me :) 

CHAPTER NOTE: Haha I know you’re having a hard time getting past that terrifying word count above if you haven’t already said ‘to hell with this’ and kept scrolling, but I like writing long chapters because I don’t update as frequently as other writers so I wanna provide some good stuff to keep readers busy while they wait... Hope that’s alright? (All chapters aren’t that long; usually around 5k. Don’t worry there’s just a lot to unpack in this first chapter) If you’re still here I hope you enjoy :)

Masterlist | Next Chapter | Chapter Art & Map | Echo & Trauma Squad

“We’ve entered the atmosphere, Sergeant. You boys are clear to get ready.”

Pressing the button connected to the cockpit via a control panel on the wall, CC-4811, Sergeant Mash, went to respond. 

“Roger that. Drop us 3 klicks south of RV point Axe.”

“Will do, sir.” 

Lowering his hand, Mash turned, gaze finding his team doing a last minute equipment check before their coming drop into hostile territory. It was helmets on at 100 klicks, they still had another minute or so. 

“Alright, listen up.” Mash held up a datapad, tapping briskly on the screen, a holo of the location of interest shown up into the semi-lit shuttle bay. “Intelligence spotted a Separatist fleet five rotations ago within the Duluur sector. They lingered for one standard Coruscant rotation above Devaron before departing from this sector. It is unknown whether hostiles have taken RV point Bullseye.”

“Why couldn’t we get the debrief on Kamino?” CC-4999, or as they called him, Nines muttered. The squad member was finishing the assemblement of his Deece with a sniper attachment.

“This is a priority mission,” Mash continued. “Retaking Bullseye needs to be done quickly, quietly, and efficiently. Minimal destruction which means no rockets, detonators, or explosives of any kind, hence our silent entry - sorry Hawk.” The smidgen of sympathy in Mash’s voice for their demolition man causes CC-4998, Hawk, to give a small jut of his chin and a twitch of a smile. “The Republic seeks to turn this Temple into a staging ground for Surveillance Operations. Keeping Bullseye standing is top priority; sweep the grounds and wipe out any Separatist forces that may have taken it; preferably all in under a 12 hour window.”

“100 klicks out,” The pilot’s voice came over the shuttle’s com systems.

Shutting off the datapad, Mash tossed it to one of the shuttle seats lining the bay wall before grabbing his helmet. The rest of his squad did the same as they all put their helmets on.

“Didn’t really answer the question, Sarg.” Nines uttered while rolling his shoulders, the action causing the armored plates to clunk against one another.

“Skipper said the Jedi were touchy about it, Nines.” 

The kid was a bit of a hot shot but his skill with a rifle more than made up for the snarky attitude.

“They give us confidential assignments for a reason. They want this done quickly and quietly without word getting out.”

The sniper tipped his trigger and middle finger around in a salute that would have most likely made their training sergeant fume at the lack of maturity before turning towards Hawk.

“Bit strange they revived us so quickly.” CC-4803, Corporal Razor stepped up next to Mash. “From what Skipper told me- most get a couple months before they’re pulled for assignment again.” 

Like the rest of their kind, they were kept in stasis when not on assignment. Infantry weren’t because they dealt with the bulk of the war. 

“Personally I don’t mind - I guess it’s gotta mean we’re doing something right if they keep pulling us for jobs,” Razor added. 

Their advisor on Kamino, Skipper, acted as their go-to man during missions. He’d feed them intel on the ground and organize quick and dirty drops and extractions if the need arose. 

“Trying not to think about it, ner vod (my brother/comprade).” Mash said, the mando’a slipping through his mouth with ease. It wasn’t something other clones knew… More of a perk from their branch of the GAR. If you were lucky, your training sergeant may have taught you the Mandalorian language. The clone flash training made it stick too, so they were fairly fluent. 

Like the rest of their kind, they were kept in stasis when not on assignment. Infantry weren’t because they dealt with the bulk of the war. 

Not long after the Battle of Geonosis, their squad, Echo squad, was formed. It was created in the wake of each of their losses. Mash had lost all his men, his brothers, and so had Razor who had been Sergeant of his own men. Nines and Hawk together lost their Corporal and Sergeant. Higher ups had pushed them all together for a follow up assignment shortly after Geonosis and they had to get to know each other on the ground the hard way. 

Since then they’d done a few jobs here and there. They all had the same training sergeant so while there was a small grimmer of familiarity, they were still strangers to each other. It took some getting used to, but things had since smoothed out. 

“Sounds like this assignment really is priority. For the Jedi at least. Whatever Jedi was occupying the Temple previously was recalled to Coruscant. It didn’t take long for the Separatists to get word of the outpost’s vacancy it seems.”

“I’ll say,” Razor chuckled beneath his helmet before finishing the tie on his rappelling gear. They’d be dropping into the dense jungle soon. “From what I hear, intelligence still has holes in it. Intel is leaked more often than it isn’t, gotta wonder you know?”

Checking the knot of his rappelling gear a final time, Mash hesitated to respond to Razor’s comment. Razor had always been one for the gossip regarding the Republic’s works. Sometimes that curiosity was useful, but more often than not Mash wished his brother were more discreet.

Word had gotten around, but since the Republic were officially handed control of the army, they’d begun making changes. Their branch of the GAR was getting quite the makeover, however whether the changes were doing more harm than good was still up for debate. Clone Advisors was just one change that had been temporary, but had since stuck around. Certain Clone Officers without fieldwork would act as advisors or middlemen to non-Clone Republic Officers, like the Jedi, still getting a handle on how to efficiently induct the different clones into the conflicts. 

It was a surprise to the Clones when the Jedi, the legendary warriors they’d been told of all their lives, didn’t exactly meet textbook expectations.

It wasn’t their place to ponder the Jedi abilities as Military Leaders, but their corner of the GAR was quickly developing opinions, a ship Mash was hesitant to board. 

“You implying its a higher ups problem?” Mash asked.

“Not necessarily,” Razor responded. “Just something to think about is all. Although, I know you prefer not to.” 

He’d known Razor long before they’d been thrown together in a squad. He’d met him several times on the simulation battlefields during training, and he knew him well enough to detect the humor laced through his voice to understand when he was pulling his leg. 

“Stay focused, vod.” Mash muttered, thankful he could hide his own grin as a chuckle from Razor radiated through helmet comms.

“Coming in, we’ll be over the drop zone in 30 seconds.”

The turbulence picked up in the shuttle as they approached their destination and all members of the squad made their way towards the back of the shuttle bay.

Hawk hit the button for the shuttle’s ramp on the wall control panel and soon enough the roar of the ship's engines took over, causing the sound dampeners in their helmets to kick in.

The shuttle trembled as the pilots pulled up on the controls and the ship stalled above an area of jungle which was where their assignment was to begin.

“Go go go,” Mash ushered each of his men out before going himself. One hand on the rappelling line and the other holding his Deece at the ready, Mash kept his eyes on his comrades heading down the 60 or so meter distance passed a layer of fog into the darkness of the Devaronian jungle. 

Large vines as thick as the bay of the shuttle covered the planet as far as Mash could see, even through his helmet display. Data on the planet mentioned the unique flora which they would encounter; the vines breached the landscape like borrowing Rishi eels, knotted and intertwined together creating a blanket covering the terrain. 

Watching as each of his squad hit the ground, Mash followed as they did in stripping themselves of their rappelling gear as it zipped back up into the shuttle.

Switching comm frequencies, Mash looked up to the hovering shuttle around 100 meters about them. 

“We’re clear, pilot.” 

“Roger that sir, have fun down there,” The ramp of the shuttle began to close before it headed off. 

The jungle had fallen quiet once the ship was out of range, and soon enough, the chirping and rustling of native fauna began to grow in the shuttle’s absence. Looking around the terrain, Mash was quick to notice how the ground under the vine canopy was rather barren aside from sparse foliage in the form of smaller vine systems and shrub-like plants. They were going in under the impression that there would be greater amounts of foliage; it would complicate matters for reconnaissance and stealth-based action going forward. 

It was the first bump in the road, but it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Improvisation; its what they trained for in situations like this.

In a series of blinks, Mash pulled up specs on the surrounding landscape, including humidity levels. They were high enough. Readings indicated it had rained recently.

“Start dirtying up the armor. Foliage won’t provide enough cover so we’ll need to-”

An aggravated grunt caused Mash to turn, finding Nines with his hands braced on his lower back as he craned into a stretch, his Deece in the hands of Hawk.

“They changed this di'kutla (useless/stupid) armor again, didn’t they.” He grunted. 

“The Manual outlined the upgrades,” Hawk reminded his brother with a slight tilt of his helmet, only to receive a mild clock on the shoulder plate from Nines as he got his footing back.

“Who the hell has time for that, do I look like I got time for that?”

“Cut the chatter,” The statement came out firm, although the mild distraction of the hostile territory around them softened his words. “This is hostile territory, so let’s shift it,” Mash gestured forward with his Deece. 

“Dirty up.” Razor shrugged, emphasizing on the Sergeant’s first order before popping off in one direction to start camouflaging his armor. 

Mash watched as Nines lingered on their Corporal walking away before he audibly grumbled, going off in a somewhat similar direction with Hawk.

“I long for the day when I can put this armor to actual use.”

“And how would you go about doing that, Nines?” Hawk asked.

“By using it how it was meant to be used- urban warfare, close quarters… actual fire fights. Not writhing around on a dust ball like Geonosis or making mud angels on this heap.”

The comment caused Hawk to openly laugh, something that if Mash was being honest, wasn’t customary of his younger comprade; however he had to admit it pleased him. He’d always been less of a talker than Nines; more hesitant to accept the new squad; whether it was because of the fate of their old one, or maybe who he had ended up with, Mash wasn’t certain. 

“Keep your trash talk on internal comms, Nines.” Razor reiterated the words as if he had done so multiple times already, which he most likely had.

“Trash talk… Kebbur haar haat (try the truth).” Nines grumbled, before throwing a glob of mud onto his thigh plating, coating one leg in the darkly colored mud.

The kid was all talk. As soon as a superior was around he would 180 and they’d be none the wiser.

Another minute passed before the squad’s signature white armor with red and orange accents were covered helmet to boots in Devaronian mud. The humidity would prove troublesome as they’d need to reapply the camouflage again within the hour.

Exchanging a couple of nods with the men, Mash made a final glance exchange with Razor.

“We’re ready,” The Corporal gave him a nod.

“Then let’s move out.”

A couple hours had passed, and the position of Devaron’s two moons had since shifted across the night sky; they could be seen in the distance adjacent to RV point Bullseye’s structure. The thick layer of fog had been ever present since their arrival, and while it didn’t completely inhibit their line of sight, it was keeping them on their toes.

Spotting subtle obstruction on the ground ahead, Mash held up a fist before gesturing for the men to move forward to a position of cover cautiously.

The Sergeant came to a stop at a large vine almost a meter thick. He kept his back to it as Hawk stopped behind him. 

“I’ve got eyes on the South road.” Nines came to a stop a few meters to their 3 o’clock, kneeling down on one leg before resting his rifle over a low vine breaching the ground, leaning in to look through the scope. 

The Temple had four roads that branched out in each direction, the primary Northern and Southern Roads drew an imaginary line through RV point Bullseye while the secondary Western and Eastern roads connected the courtyards and other smaller facilities to the overall structure. 

“It’s called a promenade, not a road.” Razor muttered as he came to a stop beside the sniper, blaster raised and alert as he observed the surrounding area.

“Yeah I know, the HUD said that, but what the hell is the difference- its a road.” Nines grunted. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to hear they’ve updated the HUD’s terminology index on architecture. I can’t think of more vital information to the mission.” The cock of Nines’ helmet only enhanced the sarcasm leaking from his filtered voice as he glanced up at their Corporal. “Looks clear up ahead.”

“No droids?” Mash questioned.

“Doesn’t look like it, Sarg. Zero movement.” Nines responded, gaze back through the scope.

From his crouched position on the ground, Hawk looked up at the Sergeant for a brief moment before glancing towards Razor. 

Going in they’d be simultaneously at an advantage and disadvantage. The enemy had the high ground and not to mention the location in question that needed to be retaken, but the squad had the element of surprise. 

“Alright. Let’s start moving in. Stay sharp and switch to internal comms,” Mash instructed and with a couple of hand gestures, fleshed out their movements going forward.

Like the vigorously tested training exercises on Kamino, the squad began to move in on the target location quickly and quietly. Using the native flora to their cover advantage, the small group made their way up to the Temple road before branching off to the structure’s right side. They’d stay between the Eastern and Southern roads in order to get as close to RV point Bullseye as possible without leaving the cover that the Devaronian vines provided. Once close enough, they could make their way across the courtyard and to the Temple. From there execution of the mission would change. How, was something Mash didn’t know yet.

Loosely following the road’s edge closer and closer to the Temple which was growing up into the sky the further they traveled, Echo Squad finally came to the wall of the courtyard, an area that surrounded the Temple. The wall was just under two meters; a quick scale. 

Stepping up to the wall, Nines lowered his rifle, resting its barrel on the wall before perusing the open and exposed ground ahead. 

“No visuals. All quiet.”

“I’m not liking this,” Razor muttered, tilting his body only slightly towards the Sergeant. “Its sloppy. Even for the droids.”

“Maybe we just came at a bad time,” Nines offered, continuing to scope out the area. “Caf break or… battery recharge- quiet time. What’d droids have these days?” 

“Let’s give it another minute.” Mash decided, craning to look up towards the main Temple structure which was significantly larger than its sibling tower. “We’ll move in if we don’t get-”

“Wait, I’ve got a visual.” 

Mash jerked his head to the right to see where Nines’ scope was aligned, towards the smaller of the two towers. The shutter and chung of metal clanking together in a uniform manner was a sound that had since become familiar to them. 

On Kamino they trained against other clone squads, training staff, and simulation targets. The droids which were now being used by the Separatists weren’t entirely unfamiliar, but it was a somewhat impersonal enemy nonetheless. The droids were designed to overwhelm, something that proved effective against the Republic at Geonosis, especially their branch of the Grand Army of the Republic. 

Part of the reason missions concerning their branch of the GAR were no longer to overlap with Infantry (unless under special circumstances) was because the Jedi thankfully came to their senses on that account. Their branch lost half of their entire force at Geonosis. Their first battle and their kind were cut in half… It unsettled Mash to the point where he preferred to not think about it, but his head constantly reminded him that those nerves wouldn’t help whether he ignored them or not. The Jedi, while they may not have been what they’d expected, were warriors and leaders nonetheless and they’d been taught all their lives that they’d been created to help the Jedi. Things were seemingly off to a rocky start but they’d level out. It seemed they already were, which Mash was thankfully for. He hadn’t worked directly with a Jedi yet, but when the day came he hoped they’d be up to the task of using him and his men to the best of their ability.

The enemy force finally emerged from around the farthest tower, revealing a squad of eight B1 battle droids. The standard, not a problem. However whatever forces may wait within the Temple or around the perimeter was the standing issue. If they had more time, Mash would have ordered a sweep of the perimeter to be safe. But they didn’t have that luxury. Looks like they’d be doing a hard contact entry, sweeping room to room and floor to floor until the entire structure was clear. 

“Well you wanted close quarter combat, ner vod.” Mash finally stated, watching alongside his squad as the droid squad went about their patrol of the Temple grounds. “We’ll eliminate this squad first.”

“Soft entry?” Hawk questioned.

“We’ll have to improvise on that front. Debrief mentioned a security system in the Temple. Nothing the droids can figure out, apparently its more of a force user problem, but with the cams they’ll most likely see us coming. We’ll have to hit quick enough to have the advantage inside.”

“What’d you call that, a medium entry, sir?” Nines chuckled, still zoning in on the droids.

“Call it what you want, Nines.” Mash nodded with minor amusement before giving his rifle one last check just to be safe. 

“I’ve got a second droid squad coming in, 2 o’clock off the Eastern road… Looks like it might be a rotation change.” 

“Watch em, Nines.”

“Roger that Sarg,”

“Razor?” Mash turned his attention to the Corporal. 

They always threw ideas off of each other. While Mash was officially in charge, he preferred to keep the title as loose as possible. Razor used to be Sergeant of his old squad, and was demoted to Corporal when transferred to Echo Squad. While they had differing ways of handling situations, Mash understood the wisdom in getting a second opinion. 

An audible sigh came through the Corporal's helmet as Razor looked up at the structure. 

“No easy way we’re getting in there without almost immediate detection. Without the use of explosives or detonators-” The nod he gave was decisive, his voice level and collected. “Looks like we gotta do this t-”

The fading of clanking metal from the droids was quickly and suddenly overpowered by the rumble of a familiar sound.

Looking up through the vine canopy, the members of Echo Squad are met with the image of a Republic Nu-class Shuttle swooping in over RV point Bullseye.

“No,” Mash muttered. “No no no- what the hell are they doing!?” 

“You get anything over comms? Change of plans?”

“No,” Mash growled through grit teeth before quickly swinging a leg up, getting over the wall before gesturing for the squad to follow.

The uninvited guest had already caught the attention of the two squads of B1s as they all began to open fire on the vessel. The fire would do little against the shuttle’s shields. 

As Echo Squad members quickly finish entering the courtyard, the Attack Shuttle’s ramp lowers and four similarly dressed troopers begin rappelling down to the adjacent courtyard.

“I don’t believe this-” Mash snapped before gesturing for the squad to move out and join the fire fight on the other side of the Temple grounds around fifty meters away. 

“There go our medium entry plans!” Nines laughed over the growing sound of blaster fire as they ran to join the conflict.

“Not the time, kid!” Mash barked. 

As they entered the Eastern courtyard that wrapped around the structure, a couple more droid squads came into view. The other Squad of clones that had arrived were keeping a relatively loose formation as they took out the enemy force, for their kind it looked pretty sloppy; or at least not Echo Squad’s style.

Mash knew his squad was on him, and he didn’t have to remind them to keep it tight. They’d cover the enemy force closer to Bullseye and leave the straggling droids to the newcomers. 

B1 Battle Droids had a rather standard targeting system; as they clunked along on a relatively straight path, they’d fire their blasters off in even intervals. They were a fairly easy nuisance to deal with on assignment. When high grades of Separatist droids joined in, and their numbers increased tenfold, that’s when their years of training met their match.

As they made their way across the courtyard and towards danger, Mash got that liquid feeling in his lower body, like his legs would give out and he felt ten times heavier running towards the firefight, he knew that feeling would always disappear as quickly as it appeared. As his training Sergeant would say: It’s your forebrain shutting down; a fear reflex. He wondered if his brothers ever felt the same; that trickle of fear. He didn’t doubt it. You’d have to be a fool not to to some extent.

As soon as their presence was made known, and the droids turned their attention to the second squad of troopers approaching, the weight was lifted from Mash’s body and the noise in his head quieted. Time to get to work.

The sound of blaster bolts firing off rang loudly into the silence of the surrounding jungle. Picking off the droids one by one, Echo Squad drew further out into the courtyard, near where the newly arrived squad was. 

The last couple shots came from Hawk as he took down a few straggling droids before the men exchanged a couple of quick glances. The spike of adrenaline that one got during the fight was almost euphoric; relaxing when a brief moment of silence came during the action. 

That feeling was cut short when Mash and Razor turned in time to see the Sergeant of the other clone squad about to throw a detonator at another squad of droids approaching from the Eastern road, most likely coming back from another patrol.

“Hey!” Mash barked before running over. 

By the time the Echo Squad leader was within fifty yards of the other squad, the small explosive had detonated; dirt, droid parts, and some rubble from the road shot up into the air. 

“Haar'chak (Damn it).” Hawk muttered, exchanging a brief look with Nines before going after their Sergeant. 

“Are you insane?!” 

The shouting caused the members of the other squad to draw their attention back, and eventually the Sergeant turned as well. 

“Who the hell are these guys-” The Sergeant muttered, patting the shoulder plate of one of his men before continuing towards Mash. “Can I help point you back in the direction of whatever mud pit you all crawled out of?” The sarcasm was strong in his voice as he looked over Echo Squad. To be fair they were all completely caked in the Devaronian mud.

“Sarg-” Razor tried to subtly stop his brother from getting physical but Mash was already close enough to shove the other Sergeant backwards a couple of steps. “Udesii, vod! (take it easy/calm down, brother!)” 

“Under what authority do you think you can just waltz in here an-”

“Authority? Listen here vod,” The armored clone points towards Mash. “I’ve got orders to secure that building back there, so unless you’re here to sit back and run recon while covered in that osik (feces/dung) I suggest you back off and let us take it from here.” The other Sergeant seemed all too eager to start smack talking and it took what was left of Mash’s self control to not get any more physical. Ten years of systematic, precise, orderly training, and as soon as the Republic is given control of the military, everyone seemingly falls off the rails. 

“I don’t know what kind of information you’re running on, but our orders came directly from the Jedi Temple that we were to scout this location for enemy activity and retake the building with minimal sustained damage.” Mash made clear. “It is obvious that you did not receive the debrief.” 

Taking a step forward, the other Sergeant came within inches of the Echo leader’s helmet with his own.

“What are you implying?”

 “Read between the lines.”

“I’m warning you now, vod. Ne shab'rud'niÖ (Don’t mess with me).”

“Bax, come on, vod.”

Razor inched his way between the two Sergeants as the other squad member that had spoken up tried to coax his Sergeant into taking a step backwards. 

“Regardless of who should or shouldn't be here- the objective appears to be the same.” Razor made clear, his hand residing on the breastplate of his Sergeant, his other held out towards the other Sergeant who was being held back by who now appeared to be their squad’s Corporal. The tension could've been cut with a vibroblade in that moment.

Razor knew Mash preferred to work alone; at least he preferred their squad working alone. If it was one thing the man hated, it was the liability of variables he couldn’t control - other people potentially ruining his way of doing things. Whether it be Infantry clones, Jedi, or other squads like them, Mash preferred the assignments where it was just their squad, and their squad alone. 

“Taking Bullseye is priority.”

“Taking what?” The other Sergeant muttered. His posture had since relaxed but it was clear he was ticked off and eager to get a move on. 

“RV point Bullseye.” Mash said. It sounded like he spit the statement out through his teeth. 

“...You mean the Tower?” The other Sergeant deadpanned. 

Silence followed and Razor exchanged a small glance with the other presumed Corporal. 

“I’m Corporal fifty-one-thirty-four… 34.” The Corporal stated, lowering his hand from his Sergeant’s breastplate. It was common to just use the last two numbers. Your name was almost always kept within your squad group, and maybe with your training sergeant unless you were comfortable sharing it. It wasn’t the time to exchange such personal details even if the atmosphere wasn’t so tense. “This is fifty-seven-eighty-seven and five-two-sixty.” The Corporal, 34, pointed to the other two men part of their squad. 

The one identified as 87 appeared to be their tech man, while 60 appeared to be carrying the demolitions ordnance. 

34 gave his Sergeant the smallest nudge with his shoulder and the man seemed to begrudgingly think over his options before his shoulders lowered a fraction.

“Sergeant five-one-eighteen.” He muttered.

“I’m Corporal four-eight-oh-three,” Razor gestured to himself. “This is forty-nine-ninety-eight and forty-nine-ninety-nine.” Pointing the two out, Razor watched as Nines gave the other squad a jut of his helmet, a sort of nod, and Hawk dipped his helmet down in acknowledgement.

Razor only had to turn a fraction towards Mash for his brother to know he would have to speak up.

“Sergeant four-eight-eleven.” His voice was tight, the remnants of his frustration still hung heavy.

“Now that that’s out of the way, would you all mind moving so we can get to work?” Sergeant 18 gestures somewhat dramatically with his blaster in one hand and a cock of his helmet, swinging the barrel of the blaster with smooth precision to the side.

The silence of the courtyard was growing increasingly harder to ignore, no doubt more droids were on their way from within the Temple walls.

“Sarg-” Corporal 34 started to speak

“We got here first, I suggest you step aside and let us take it from here.” 

“I’ve been dragging my men through the mud of that jungle for five hours- We were on the ground working this mission before you dropped in on the front karking door-”

“I don't give a mott's backside if you’ve been stuck here for weeks I-!”

“Sir, I’ve got movement, south entrance,” The statement came from Nines, currently training his rifle on two squads of droids, including some SBDs (super battle droids), exiting the main doors of the Temple. 

Both Sergeants having turned to see the incoming hostiles seemed to quickly come to the realization that neither of them were getting what they wanted.

Sergeant 18 shot his Corporal a look before cursing under his breath and 34 nodded before he turned more so to face Echo Squad.

“Your call. You were here first.”

Mash clenched his jaw from under his helmet. He didn’t need this but… He couldn’t have it completely his way. 

“Can you manage taking the East Tower without blowing it up?” Mash questioned.

The reluctance was evident in Sergeant 18’s movement as he turned towards Mash and finally nodded.

“...We’ll clear it.”

Exchanging a glance with Razor, Mash returned the nod to the other Sergeant.

“We’ll take the main structure; meet up in the communications center after the Temple has been cleared. If you need to, use comm frequency 0374.”

“Roger that,” Sergeant 18 quickly signals to his men and they take off hastily towards the oncoming droids.

With a shake of his head, Mash turned and watched for a brief moment as the squad of newcomers ran off and began blasting away at the droid force.

Nines watched their Sergeant for a moment before exchanging a glance with Hawk before clearing his throat.

“We uh- clear to move in, sir? I’d rather not let them have all the fun.”

Breathing out through his nose, the Echo Squad Sergeant gave his brother a nod before gesturing for them to get moving. 

“Keep it tight.”

“You say that like we’re gonna run off, Sarg.” Hawk chuckled, falling into a loose formation at Nines’ side with Mash and Razor behind them. 

“Just don’t follow in that crack squad’s shoes, please.”

“Looks like their Sergeant is just a little…” Razor trails off, swallowing the breathy laugh he almost let loose.

“Dini'la? (insane?)” Nines tried.

He managed to earn a few chuckles with the comment. 

“Let’s just focus on the task at hand, vod.” Mash responded, voice a little more at ease. Razor had a tendency to keep the atmosphere as light as he was able, especially in instances like this when tension was high. Nines had his own way of trying to do the same, which usually consisted of poking fun at someone or something. “Same rules apply; no explosives. This building needs to be standing by the time we clear it.”

“Copy that, Sarg.” The humor was laced through Hawk’s voice. 

He was the most mellow one of the squad. Mash didn’t really consider himself to have a great sense of humor, but somewhere along the line, Mash subconsciously decided to always play with Hawk and pretend like he was the trigger “explosive” happy one of the bunch. Hawk played along with it. 

“I call entry,” Nines called out, causing Razor to chuckle before moving up closer to the younger clone to cover his six. 

Despite their mismatched squad, formulated as a result of the losses they’d each received, they were quickly becoming a working unit. If it was one thing Mash knew they all took away from their training, it was the constant snippets of advice and encouragement they’d received from their training sergeant. Traat'aliit gar besbe'trayc (The squad is your weapon). Remember that; you are nothing on your own, and everything together. 

“I’ve got movement in the dining hall,” Nines muttered over comms. They were using their internal comm frequency so the droids wouldn’t overhear anything. The other squad hadn’t initiated contact with them on the channel yet, but perhaps that was a blessing in disguise. 

“Tion'solet? (how many?)” Hawk spoke up.

“I said I’ve got movement not a five course meal worth of information ready for you,” Nines shot back.

Hawk just shook his head at his brother’s humor. 

Leaning around the corner, Nines’ HUD marked the number of droids in the room within a beat and he quickly retreated around the corner where the squad was.

“Twelve including a B1 Sergeant and five SBDs. We can use the EMPs right?” Nines questioned quietly to Mash, despite knowing they were on internal comms. 

Electromagnetic Pulse Grenades… Debrief didn’t specifically outline that they couldn’t use them. 

Mash audibly sighed before lowering his rifle a fraction. 

“This is the dining hall. If we end up stuck here a couple days I’d rather raid the pantry than eat ration bars.”

“That’s your argument for not going in with blasters?” Razor questioned, cocking his helmet to the side. 

“.... Yes.” 

“Just this one room.” Mash grunted while shaking his head. “We need to hold onto that ordnance.”

Giving a jut of his helmet, Nines lifted a hand towards Hawk who had the EMP grenades on hand. 

Tossing one to his brother, Nines made his way around the corner and activated the grenade before rolling it into the large room.

A few beats passed before the shuffling and clunking of the metal droids moving about became prominent. 

“What’s that?” The high pitched, animatronic voice was becoming reluctantly familiar before the grenade went off, cutting off any chatter from the hostiles. 

Echo Squad swarmed into the space with deadly precision, shooting down the few remaining droids that were outside the EMPs blast radius before covering the bases of the room.

“Clear!”

“Clear,”

The room was relatively small for a dining facility. Then again, the debrief did reveal this Temple was rarely occupied by more than a few Jedi at a time. 

“What’s left?” Hawk looked towards the Corporal.

“Just Communications; top floor.” Razor turned towards Mash who nodded in agreement.

“While I’m not complaining, the fact that the crack squad hasn’t made contact is a little unsettling,” Nines spoke up once more, taking a seat on one of the tables, slinging his rifle over his lap. 

“Nines-” Mash muttered, waving a hand towards the younger clone. “You're covered in filth, try not to get it all over everything.”

“This building is still under Separatist control last time I checked. I think they’ve got bigger problems then my dirty shebs (backside/rear/“ass”) sitting on their dining tables. Just saying.” Nines shrugged, catching the way Razor quickly looked down and breathed out sharply.

“Don’t encourage him.” Mash didn’t skip a beat in lightly scolding Razor’s reaction to Nines’ humor. 

Wearing full armor and helmets did inhibit one’s ability to read some body language, but they all grew up learning how to read it. He wasn’t completely there yet, but Mash was beginning to pick up on the little details that clued him into each new brother of his. He could almost identify each of them by their breathing in combat. Nines was the easiest to pick out because he always breathed in such an even and controlled manner; a sign of a sniper; the slightest inhale or exhale could mean the hit or miss of a shot. Hawk and Razor were a little harder to tell apart but Mash was getting there. 

“Let’s head up to the top floor.” Mash gestured out of the room with his Deece. “Keep it tight.”

B1 Battle Droids littered the hallway farther down where they had come from. Every floor and room below them had been cleared. All that remained of the main structure was the top floor, the communications center. Whether the other squad had cleared the East Tower was a question Mash hated leaving up in the air. More droids could pour into the lower levels that they had already cleared if the squad didn’t hold up their end. 

Making their way to the end of the hall, they came to an open spiral staircase heading up. Sure there was also a lift, but they didn’t know what they were walking into. The stairs would allow them to survey the situation better. 

It didn’t take long for the squad to make their way up to the top level and to a small hall that led to the opening of the communications center. No doors. They’d just have to move in relatively quickly to get the jump.

Mash followed behind Nines on the left side of the hallway as Hawk and Razor did the same on the right side of the hall. 

“Tactical Droid 12 o’clock.” Hawk said.

“I got it,” Nines had already raised his Deece.

“Pare (wait),” Mash held a hand out, Deece still trained forward, held by another hand despite the pressure it put on his wrist. “Keep it intact, if we get the jump we might be able to salvage information out of it.”

“...Fine.” Nines uttered but kept his rifle in position.

Evaluating the room for a moment, Mash’s HUD marked the hostiles in a moment. Fourteen, a mix of B1s and SBDs not including the Tactical Droid. 

“Razor?” Mash questioned.

“Hawk and I got the right side, you guys take left?”

“Copy.” Gesturing forward with his pointed middle and forefinger Mash quickly grasped his Deece as they moved in. 

Nines headed into the room quicker than the others, shooting down several of the droids before making a run for the Tactical droid before it could register the situation playing out.

Mash shot down what droids remained around Nines, dodging a couple of blaster bolts that came close to his body. 

Razor and Hawk went about taking down droids on the other side of the room, conscious of the blaster charge they were using as they took the droids down as quickly and efficiently as possible; a head shot or correctly positioned body shot; nothing else would do. 

Mash had barely caught Nines finishing off the Tactical droid as he finished ripping the droid’s head from its body before standing up with a laugh, tossing it in his hands twice before looking the intact head over. 

“Vod, gaanaylir (brother, catch).” Nines tossed the droid head towards Hawk who fumbled for a moment, only one hand free as the other grasped his Deece. The droid part clattered against his armor before he secured it properly in his grasp. Hawk then handed the droid head to Razor without much thought and Echo Squad’s slicer made his way towards the command console a couple meters away. 

“Nines, door.” Mash said. 

“Copy that.”

Heading to the front of the room where computer stations lined the walls, Mash lightly ran his fingers over the controls of one of the stations before stepping once to the side to where the security cam screens were. Cycling through them briefly, it took Mash a while to finally find a cam that showed the other squad. By the looks they were making their way towards the communications center and they looked calm enough so they must’ve held up their end. 

“Anything, Sarg?” Hawk asked.

“No droid activity. That squad’s on there way it looks like. Hawk-” Mash got the attention of his comrade and gestured to the console in front of him with a nod.

Hawk nodded and approached him.

“Refresh security systems and realign motion sensors in the building.”

“Sir,” Hawk gave a nod before getting to work. 

“So what’s the plan now?” Nines looked over his shoulder back into the room towards his brothers.

Mash exchanged a glance with Razor who was standing over the command console; the hub for long range communication. 

“I’ll start securing a line to Kamino,” Razor decided. “Enlighten Skipper on our progress.” He turned away and got to work on the console. 

Mash’s eyes dotted over the console where Razor began working before his eyeline fell to the floor and followed the path of destruction towards the door where Nines was. From there his eyes found several moving figures coming down the hall, the other squad. Great.

“Well well,” Sergeant 18 began, the eyeline of his helmet shifting around the room for a moment before settling on Mash. “Su cuy’gar (you’re still alive).” 

“Don’t act so surprised.” Mash muttered before gesturing them over. 

“The East Tower is clear.” The Sergeant continued to look around the room for a brief time before his gaze landed on Mash once more, giving the littlest dip of his head. Mash was quick to reciprocate the gesture in gratitude. 

“Looks like the droids were tampering with the transmitter,” Razor called over. “It’s gonna take some time to get to working.”

“Alright.” Mash’s eyes had quickly found the squad of men who had since entered the room once more. They were so familiar to him and his brothers yet so incredibly different it almost made his blood boil with just how different they were - how different they approached the mission. “In the meantime we need to secure the greater perimeter.”

“You know how long that’ll take?” The Sergeant reprimanded. 

“It needs to be done,” Mash countered before turning towards Nines. Hesitating in his words for a moment, Mash evaluated the men he had present in the room. 

“Let’s send three men, including a Corporal.” Mash wasted little time in subtly waving Nines over.

“If you’ve all got a slicer who can take over this, I’ll take a few men out.” Razor called over, now lying on his back with his head inside a compartment under the command console, helmet on the ground next to his legs. One of the other squad’s men, 87, had since traveled over to where Razor was. After a moment he looked up from where he was knelt down near Razor. 

“I can handle this, sir, if you wanna send someone out with them.” His voice was just a hair higher in pitch and the detail, as small as it was, already told Mash that the clone was younger to some degree; maybe closer in age to Hawk and Nines. 

Sergeant 18 turned towards Mash for a brief time before turning towards the two of his men still at his side. He nodded to one of them and he stepped forward.

“Alright 11… We’ll play it your way. 60 will go with’em on the scouting,” He nods to the comprade that had since stepped up.

Clenching his jaw for a brief time, Mash reluctantly thought over his next move before carefully removing his helmet. Positioning it under his arm, he relaxed his jaw before holding out a hand to the Sergeant.

The soldier was still but the slight movement of his helmet indicated he saw the outstretched hand.

“Echo Squad. They call me Mash.” It was a longshot. But it might make things easier going forward if they stepped past the formalities of numbers for names. 

The Sergeant was unusually still for his seemingly gung ho attitude prior; but the man finally looked down at the hand after an uncomfortable beat of silence before raising his hands to his helmet. Removing the piece of armor, he went to tuck the helmet under his arm before returning the gesture. 

Mash met the same set of eyes. “Trauma Squad... Baxter.” His hair was relatively unkempt, but part of that might have been due to helmet hair. It was not the standard military cut all clones were required to maintain on Kamino; it appeared as if he’d let it grow out a bit, his bangs were just teasing his brow. 

Mash shook his hand once before they each pulled away from the gesture.

Looking to his left, Mash met Razor’s eyes as his brother walked over.

“This is our Corporal’n slicer.” Mash nodded towards him.

“Razor.” He responds.

“That’s ours.” Baxter nods to his right to the clone next to him.

“Ram, Corporal and sniper” The Corporal previously known as 34 chimed in with a dip of his helmet. 

Mash gave a small nod in response to the clone.

“Nines, sniper.” Nines took the opportunity of silence to speak up.

“Hawk, demo.” Hawk waved a loose hand while continuing to fool around with the security system console on the other side of the room. 

The man behind Baxter adjusted his stance before clearing his throat. “Char, demo.”

Mash gave the man a small nod of acknowledgement before he met the eyes of the Trauma Squad sergeant.

Baxter turned and gestured towards the last man who hadn’t been named, currently with his head inside the command console where Razor had previously been.

“The kid over there’s Jack; our slicer.”

“Razor, you alright taking Nines and Char on a perimeter sweep?” 

“Just the courtyard or do we wanna start covering this in sectors?” Razor inquired, looking between the two Sergeants. 

Mash glanced at Baxter momentarily and the Trauma Squad Sergeant did the same. 

“I don’t think we need to start heading off into the jungle just yet,” Baxter’s voice was controlled and somewhat reluctant. 

“Maybe just walk the perimeter outside of the courtyard for now. Take an hour and sweep it; check each road for damage or foot traffic and call in if you see any signs of more droid patrols.” Mash continued to eye Baxter as he spoke. 

“Alright,” Razor nodded before briefly meeting the eyes of Nines and then the one identified as Char, giving them a small nod to move out. 

Mash firmly gripped Razor’s shoulder plating as his brother went to walk by before leaving with the two soldiers in tow. 

“How’s it coming, Jack?”

“Corporal Razor mentioned the power cell might’ve been tampered with.” Jack strained to look out from the small space he had his head in, hands up under the console inside the cylinder structure. 

“Well if that’s the case then we can’t get any messages out at the moment. Not even to a nearby fleet.” Baxter muttered, kneeling down next to his comrade. “May not be the time,” Baxter raised his voice enough to catch Mash’s attention. “But what exactly did your mission debrief necessitate… In detail?”

Mash watched the Sergeant for a moment and remained silent until he got to his feet to face him fully. 

“I’m not sure if we’re there yet.” Mash was calm in his statement but still firm. This could get ugly again and Razor wasn’t there to mediate. Not that he needed it… But when it came to this Sergeant, he found his fuse seemingly much shorter than normal.

“Not sure if we’re there yet.” Baxter repeats with a nod, a hand coming to the back of his head before he ran his fingers through his hair quickly. “Y’know if I didn’t know better I’d say-”

“Go on,” Mash cut him off slightly.

Baxter almost smiled before glancing around the room for a brief time. While his expression said amusement, his eyes held a certain reluctance similar to Mash’s. 

“... Let’s just contact Kamino and get this mess sorted.” 

“Good answer.” Mash gave a nod and crossed his arms; as well as he could in the armor at least while watching the Sergeant walk over to his man at the command console. 

Shaking his head, Mash headed over to Hawk.

“Any luck?” Mash braced a hand on the station Hawk was sitting at and let his eyes graze over some of the cam screens. 

“Systems should be finished with the reboot soon.” Hawk nods. “I’ve got no trips on the sensors aside from us so… I think we’re clear for now.”

Mash lifted his gaze and looked out one of the transparisteel viewports of the Tower, eyes picking up on the large vines that coated the planet surface.

“For now.”

The jungle just surrounding the Temple held an eerie silence. One that hadn’t been present when Echo Squad was on their approach from RV point Axe. The firefight had since quieted any fauna in the vicinity of the Towers. 

Making their way across the courtyard and towards the East road, Nines kicked a few crippled B1s out of his path as they walked. While the sniper was content to keep his eyes forward and on the task at hand, his eyes eventually traveled over to the Trauma Squad member with them; Char. 

Nines let himself look the clone up and down for a beat. He walked different; fought different; no doubt probably did everything a little different too. While your average civvy probably couldn’t comprehend that fact, for a clone, it was just part of the job - part of the job that the Kaminoans never taught them. It was something they just learned early in their lives, despite being manufactured to be the same, there was always that little bit of human that the longnecks could never fully scrub out. Nines figured every training sergeant probably instilled some sort of mindset that reinforced their tendency to individualize themselves; he’d heard rumors about other trainers. 

The Trauma Squad member, like the rest of his squad, had green-like color accents on his white armor. While there was no way in hell that the other squad could tell due to the mud they were still covered in, Echo Squad’s color was red; their armor was accented in the red to orange colors. 

Nines’ eyes caught the couple of stairs ahead that went down a foot before smoothing out into the road heading into the Jungle; the place where one of Trauma Squad had thrown a grenade was prominent in the blasted off pieces of stair that littered the vicinity.

“You’re demo right?” Nines gestured down to the rubble with the barrel of his Deece. “This you?” He laughed. 

The Trauma Squad member came to a stop and slowly looked towards Nines, taking a beat to process the question.

“Was the Sarg,” Char finally responded. He had a somewhat deeper voice, more so than Mash or Baxter too. 

“Guy’s not one for the rulebook is he?” Nines raised an eyebrow from under his helmet before maneuvering down what intact stairs were left. 

“Least he didn’t have us rolling in osik,” The man chuckled and Nines felt annoyance prickle his skin.

“First off its mud. We were running recon and needed to take precautions. Second, we were following a strict outline from the Jedi… They wanted the location taken quickly and quietly to avoid making a scene; I imagine they didn’t want their meditation-force-Temple lookin like a battleground when we were done.” He gestures back to the blown up set of stairs that were getting further away as they continued down the road, checking for any droid activity. 

“...Smells like osik.” Char stated. 

Nines clenched his jaw and caught the way Razor gave him the littlest shake of his helmet. 

Don’t. 

Nines let silence fall, although it took every ounce of self control he had left not to start picking this guy apart. It was in his nature to just… Wind people up. This guy was winding him up and was looking like he wasn’t even giving it his full attention. 

Glancing down at himself for the briefest second he caught the sight of the thick layer of mud still caked to his armor… It did smell terrible.... But it was mud…. Hopefully.

The soldiers continued down the quiet path that led deeper into the jungle until they reached the end of the architectural road that ended at some stairs and a small dirt path, not even a road, that continued into the wilderness.

“Well that was eventful.” Nines muttered before turning to head back in the other direction.

They still had the north and south roads to walk. They’d already swept the west road now opposite their position. “Remind me again why they needed us for this job. This is infantry level work.”

“Says the talking osik pile.” Char surmised, following the sniper with his gaze as he went to leave. 

“Wayii- copaani mirshmure'cye, vod? (Good grief- are you looking for a smack in the face, mate?)” Nines had whipped around, coming relatively face to face or- helmet to helmet with the Trauma Squad member.

“Alright, easy you two!” Razor interrupted the two, putting a hand on each of their shoulders before pushing them apart. “Same team.”

Char glanced towards Razor for a brief time before bowing his head in a small nod. Turning towards Nines he eyed the sniper for a brief time before stepping past him to continue their patrol back to the Temple. 

Nines muttered once more under his breath before meeting the gaze of the Corporal.

“You may know how to wind people up, but you make it relatively easy for others to do the same to you, vod.” Razor chuckled before patting his brother’s shoulder plating. 

Nines rolled his eyes before walking alongside his older brother back down the road to continue their sweep.

“How about- now?” Jack grunted, half of his armored body cramped into the small compartment under the command console. 

“Nothing,” Baxter responded, staring at the dark holotable. 

Mash watched the two quietly while his arms crossed, trying to keep his expression as blank as possible before he exchanged the smallest glance with Hawk and Ram who was standing a meter or two from them. 

A string of curses in Mando’a left the clone before the clattering of metal parts followed. The holotable flickered to life moments later.

“Wait that did it,” Baxter held a hand down to the opening where Jack was.

“You serious? The power cell isn’t even in place I’m holding it-”

“Just don’t move.” Baxter cut him off before going about the controls.

Mash took a couple of steps forward and began putting in a secure channel code. 

“I’ll contact our advisor,” Mash explained, fingers working quickly along the bottoms of the console.

Baxter seemed to stall in his movements as the Echo Squad Sergeant stepped up and he retracted his hands from the console. “You do that,” The Trauma Squad Sergeant moved back slowly before crossing his own arms. 

Mash slowed his actions as he processed the dramatic response from the soldier before resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Finishing the code, Mash activated the transmitter and stood up straight, watching as the holotable, now illuminated, hummed to life. 

It seemed much longer, but a few seconds later a hologramic figure emerged from the table and Mash was quick to recognize him.

“Sergeant, how is your assignment going?” Skipper questioned, hands loosely on his armor belt.

It was a relief to see their Clone Advisor, but Mash found the words leaving his mouth to be far from that thought that grazed his mind.

“Temple’s been retaken, but sir, would you mind explaining to me what the hell high command is playing at?” Mash leaned forward on the console, hands on either side of the controls.

“...Excuse me, Sergeant?” Mash rarely ever talked to a superior with such an aggressive tone. 

“Let me,” Baxter less than gently shoved Mash out of the way before taking his spot in front of the hologram. “What he means to ask is what high command’s been doing with their thumbs up their shebs while we trip over our own feet down here trying to recapture a Jedi timeshare.”

“Wayii.” Mash roughly rubbed a hand over his shaved head before cursing. “Show a little decorum,” Mash seethed.

“Me show decorum?” Baxter turned towards the Echo Squad leader, a hand to his armored chest. 

“Alright, settle down!” Skipper almost had to yell to get the attention of the two Sergeants before they both finally directed their attention to him. “Mash, what’s the state of the Temple? Enemy activity?”

“We’ve secured the position, sir.” Mash said. “We eliminated a small Separatist force holding the location; wasn’t nearly enough to hold it indefinitely; most likely just a temporary force to hold the grounds.”

“They may send reinforcements then. Be on guard.” Skipper warned.

Mash gave a nod before glancing around at the others temporarily. “When will the Jedi be arriving?” 

His question was followed by silence, and Baxter was the first to react as he adjusted his stance and took a step forward.

“Well?”

“...The Jedi don’t have a replacement lined up yet.” Not only did his reluctance to respond clue them in, but the hesitation in his voice as well. 

“Excuse me?” Baxter slowly blinked in response, posture twitching.

“Meaning?” Mash questioned.

“Meaning,” Skippered sighed lightly. “You all aren’t going anywhere until they send a Jedi.”

Baxter, being the first to react again, kicked the command console, causing the hologram to flicker.

“Hey!” Jack called from under the console. 

“You gotta be-” A string of curses in mando’a followed Baxter’s proclamation as he took a couple steps away from the console. 

“Take it easy,” Mash put a hand up.

Returning to the console, Baxter rests both hands on the rim.

“I need to talk to our advisor. He’ll get us out of here.” Baxter made clear.

“Sergeant, your advisor has been pulled for an assignment, so Trauma is officially under my jurisdiction until he returns.”

The man was fuming, but he remained quiet, much to Mash’s surprise. 

“You both are to hold the location and report back any Separatist activity or attempts to retake the Temple. It shouldn’t be more than a couple of days.” Skipper eased, holding out a hand as he spoke. “The Temple has a storage facility with foodstuffs and rations to keep you comfortable if you all are stuck longer than your dry ration packs will allow.”

“We better not be,” Baxter grumbled under his breath, glancing towards Ram.

“You don’t have to worry about a thing, sir.” Mash reassured the Advisor. “We’ll keep the Temple secure.”

“I’ll contact you when I have word on the Jedi.” Skipper gives them a final nod before the hologram disappears and it falls quiet.

“...Can I get up now?” Jack grunted, a foot kicking slightly as the man was still on his back halfway under the console. 

“Alright,” Mash mumbles quietly, meeting Hawk’s eyes before glancing towards Baxter as the man had since began pacing around slowly. “Well-”

“Jetiise (Jedi; plural),” Baxter uttered under his breath before shaking his head. 

“Hey,” Mash’s tone lowered in a warning manner. The man seemed quick to want to bash on any of the higher ups.

“It’ll only be for a few days.” Ram spoke up, meeting Mash’s gaze for a brief moment before looking towards his Sergeant. 

Walking over to the computer stations lining the far wall, Mash stepped past Baxter to grab his helmet and put it on.

A couple careful blinks later, he activated their secure comm channel.

“Razor? How’s the patrol going?” Mash spoke up, eyeline shifting to the left as Jack crawled out from under the commander console and put a hand through his hair with a mumble. 

The comms crackled briefly before he got a response.

“All qui… out here, Mash. No sign u-... oid traffic around the T… ple yet. We’re almost done ch... south road th… be heading back.”

“Transmission was fuzzy but I understand. Let me know if anything changes,” Mash responded.

“Yes sir. Any news?”

Mash clenched his jaw and thought it over for a moment before shaking his head.

“Long story short- we’re stuck here together until the Jedi can send someone. Could be a few days.”

“Did he j… ays!?”

That was Nines alright.

“I see,” Razor responded. “Brief us when w…. back.”

“Will do,” Mash finished the transmission before taking his helmet off with a sigh.

“Just great.” Nines growled under his breath, his grasp on his Deece tightening and loosening as he fidgeted. “Stuck with crack squad for-”

“Who’re you calling a crack squad, mate?” Char cut him off. “We’re not the squad looking like they just crawled out of a swamp.”

“Keep talking and I’ll make sure they find your body at the bottom a swamp, mate.” Nines barked back, having turned on his heel to stop Char in his tracks.

“Gev! Take it down!” Razor ordered, shouldering Nines to get his younger comrade to back off. “Both of you,” Razor turned a look on Char before gesturing them both forward. “Squabbling like Infantry cadets for galaxy’s sake-” He cursed before walking ahead of both of them. 

Nines begrudgingly followed, but not before exchanging a small glance with Char before they began heading back to the Temple. 

The walk back was quiet and by the time they’d gotten up to the communications center, the atmosphere had leveled out. 

“The perimeter is clear.” Razor announced, removing his helmet as he entered the communications room. 

Mash turned and met the eyes of his Corporal with a nod.

“Seppies won’t stay quiet for long,” Baxter chimed in, leaning against the command console with his armed crossed, expression almost belligerent as he looked back down at the ground with a scowl. “They’ll send reinforcements and soon.”

“We’ll be ready,” Mash agreed, hands resting on his armor belt. “First things first, we need to start organizing patrols; keep an eye on local air traffic an-”

“Who- put you in charge exactly?” Baxter questioned, his expression revealing genuine confusion but also fatigue. 

Mash clenched his jaw and breathed out quietly through his nose before shooting Razor the smallest look. 

“It’ll only be a couple days, I’m sure we can balance leadership.” Ram proposed, sitting at one of the chairs at the computer stations at the opposite side of the room.

Baxter’s body jolted as if he was trying to prevent a scoff before he nodded.

“Better only be a couple days.”

ONE WEEK LATER… 

Nines clenched his jaw, staring down towards his hands before his gaze lifted and he met Char’s eyes. The Trauma Squad member stared back at him, expression hardly set but relatively at ease despite the fact. 

Tapping his finger lightly, Nines swallowed before he finally nodded.

“I’ll raise you three Nuna jerky strips.” Nines finally stated before tossing the packaged meat into the center of the table.

“I’ll match that, vod.” Char nodded before grabbing some packaged jerky strips from the backpack next to his feet, tossing them into their pot where other small foods and rations resided. 

From the other side of the communications center, Ram watched the two playing cards with a tightly knit brow.

“I don’t get it,” Ram finally muttered, giving a shake of his head. 

“What?” Razor questioned while chewing on a ration stick, eyes on the SOP manual up on the datapad balanced on his propped up leg. 

“They’ll be at each other's throats night and day- but as soon as the Sabacc cards come out they turn more civil than jetiise.”

Razor let a hard breath out through his nose in amusement before shrugging lightly, using a knuckle to scroll down on the datapad. 

Those two were always going at each other, but over the past several days they’d each discovered their love of the card game, Sabacc. They’d started developing an awkward love/hate relationship with the game at the center. 

“As long as they’re quiet,”

The week had passed by slowly. Razor and Ram were getting along alright during the time, however Mash and Baxter were still at opposite ends of a spectrum. They butted heads but a brotherly atmosphere was starting to settle in. 

Turning in his chair, Ram faces the computer station and quickly goes about cycling through the comm channels, listening for any chatter that might clue them into a hostile force. Alongside that chore was looking for any Separatist activity on the air traffic scanners. So far they’d had nothing all week.

The beeping of one of the air traffic scanners causes both Ram and Razor to look up from their distractions. Ram is the first to swing around in his chair and lean over to the neighboring computer station. 

Razor got up from his chair and walked over.

“Got something?” He questioned.

Ram evaluated the reading before narrowing the scanner range.

“I’ve got a ship entering the atmosphere, around 50 klicks out.” Ram responded, brow knit as he watched the screen on the station plot a hypothetical course for the ship that was approaching. “Computer's plotting its course; it looks like they’re heading for us.” Ram muttered before getting to his feet. Cycling through the channels for a moment, Ram found the only other active one and pressed one of the buttons on the panel to unmute the transmission.

“Incoming ship, you are entering restricted Republic Military airspace,”

Razor eyed the image on the screen that estimated the ship’s trajectory as Ram continued to recite one of the standard messages from the SOPs manual.

“Do you copy?” Ram waited but only static came through on the comms. 

“I repeat, incoming ship, you have entered restricted Republic Military airspace-”

“They’re coming in way too fast.” Razor muttered, eyeing the readings on the computer screen built into the station. “Reads are coming through… Ships heavily damaged.”

“Specs?” Ram inquired. 

“Hull integrity is at critical levels, heat spikes all over the ship, scanner’s reading engine failure. That ship’s not being piloted, it’s going down.”

“What’s the estimated crash path?” Ram asked, finger hovering over the comm button, allowing the static to come through. 

Going about the controls on the station, Razor expanded the aerial map of the surrounding area and the computer AI marked an estimated crash zone. 

At seeing the area, Razor leaned in further, brow knitting tightly. 

“Something wrong?” Ram questions.

“That’s just near RV point Axe… Aren’t they patrolling that area?” Razor questioned, turning to the fellow Corporal.

At processing his comrade’s words, Ram quickly abandoned the comm frequency he was using to contact the unknown ship and set the frequency to their squad comm channel.

“Sergeants we’ve got a ship coming in with a projected crash zone in your area… Baxter? Sergeant Mash?” 

Razor watched the fellow soldier quietly before glancing to the side seeing Nines and Char had since approached, similarly reflected expressions of concern. 

“Haar'chak, I can’t get anything through,” Ram swore before shaking his head; meeting Razor’s eyes. “Wanna head out?”

In the past few days, they’d discovered how communications were difficult on the planet. If a party was out in the jungle, comms were always very sensitive. They knew it would complicate matters if the Separatists organized an attempt to retake the Temple. 

“... Yeah, let’s go.” Razor agreed before quickly going to grab his helmet. “You two hold down here,” Razor looked to both Nines and Char. 

“Let us know if you need any help.” Nines nodded before shrugging. “... Well I guess you won’t be able to so-... If it looks bad from here we’ll- consider coming to help.”

“Good to know,” Ram smirked before throwing his helmet on. 

Nodding to the other Corporal, they both began running for the hall. 

There had been a short rain shower earlier in the morning. The ground was soft and their armored boots sunk into the soil as they treaded through the jungle. 

Baxter was walking a few yards ahead with Jack at his side, and Mash followed closely behind with Hawk. 

The Trauma squad members were chatting lightly amongst themselves and Mash and Hawk chatted on and off.

They had fallen into a relatively simple routine over the past few days. They’d hit bumps now and again, but everyone usually did their best to stay out of each other’s way. 

The ease of the atmosphere around them came to a screeching halt however, when the crackling of sticks sounds off to their 9 o’clock. 

Baxter is the first to ready his rifle before anyone else had time to process the sound disruption. They may not have been a squad, but they knew how to make it work, and everyone worked off of each other in accordance with the developments around them.

All of them trained on an assortment of foliage several meters away, more rustling follows before small chirp-like noises emit from the bushes.

It was a familiar sound. One of the native fauna from the planet, a small reptilian species. However the familiarity didn’t stop Baxter from watching the position from which the sound radiated with a raised weapon. 

Jack had his weapon raised hesitantly as well, although Sergeant Mash’s lack of reaction caused him to second guess his own. They hadn’t seen any action in weeks. It was obvious Sergeant Baxter was getting an itchy trigger finger to shoot something. 

“S’nothing, brother.” Mash mumbled, rifle loosely held in front of him.

Baxter rolled his eyes from under his helmet and muttered under his breath before continuing on their patrol.

“Jedi are wasting Special Forces; as if Geonosis wasn’t enough of a wake up call for em,” Baxter said, his pace picking up. 

Mash tries not to roll his shoulders in an effort to ease the prickle of uneasiness he got from Baxter’s comment. How had this clone survived this long without getting himself terminated. 

“C’mon, vod,” Mash mumbled, knowing Baxter would understand his comment. 

In training, they were taught that Jedi leadership was invaluable. However at the Battle of Geonosis, the clone army was in for a somewhat rude awakening at just how unprepared the Jedi seemed to be in leading the army. Special Forces lost half of their numbers, and strategically, the Battle was a mess. Many clones came out of their first battle confused, even angered, but still unwaveringly loyal to the Jedi… well most of them did. Baxter made Mash rethink that part.  

“Maybe the next assignment will have us mopping floors in the Jedi Temple, who knows you gotta remain optimistic.” Baxter called over his shoulder. 

Mash just shook his head and exchanged a small glance with Hawk. 

Crackling over the comms caused Mash to slow his pace, a hand raising subconsciously towards his helmet. 

“Razor? That you?” Mash spoke up.

“We-.... ip comi… cra… yo-...”

“Damn it,” Mash muttered before using his knuckles to knock the side of his helmet a couple of times. “Are you getting anything clear Baxter?” 

“No,” The Trauma Sergeant grumbled, eyeline on the ground as he tried to listen to the gargled transmission. “Come on boys, spit it out.”

“Repe… shi… proj… crash…” 

Mash shook his head lightly as he tried to listen only to start hearing a roar of a ship in the background of the transmission.

“...You hear that?” Mash turned towards Hawk who nodded.

“Hey Max,” Baxter suddenly spoke up.

The Sergeant’s expression fell from under his helmet. “It’s Mash,” He grumbled before turning around to look at the Sergeant.

He was looking up through the vine canopy. 

Mash’s brow knit in response to seeing the Sergeant before he followed the man’s eyeline to the sky, eyes widening at the sight.

“Uh… That doesn’t look good.” Jack stated, also finding the ship that was hurtling down towards them in a ball of fire. 

“GO GO GO!” Mash yelled, waving the men off. They began running towards the ship and managed to avoid most of the debris coming off of the craft as it crashed through the vine canopy and barreled into the mud around forty yards away. 

Half of the men had dived for cover from broken pieces of the ship that had rained down.

“Everyone alright?” Mash called out, the question leaving his mouth before he could register his own state.

“Fine here sir,”

“All good.”

Mash quickly got to his feet, seeing Baxter had already done the same.

“Not what I was expecting when I hoped for some action but I won’t complain,” The Trauma Sergeant didn’t waste any time, and Mash wasn’t going to slow him down as they quickly began making their way towards the wreckage. “Wanna bet they were trying to warn us?” Baxter laughed, referring to the rest of their group at the Temple.

Mash nodded to the side in agreement, feeling Hawk come up on his right as they followed the canyoned trail the ship had left in its wake.

It was a fairly large craft, a freighter by the look of what was left. 

A small explosion off of one of the dislodged engines causes the team to jump back a step. 

Baxter suddenly patted Mash had on the back before going closer to the wreck.

“We’ll cover the cockpit area,” He practically threw the comment over his shoulder before jogging off with Jack close behind him.

“But- I- Erm,” Mash shook his head and quieted his objection before it could pass through his lips. 

“Let’s cover the back of the ship,” Mash responded, looking towards his comrade. “Looks like the ship’s main structure is still relatively intact. We might be able to enter through the cargo bay.”

Hawk acknowledged his Sergeant with a nod before going to follow the clone. Both keep a close eye on the wreckage as they approach. Parts of the hull were missing, revealing little hints of darkness within the craft. There could still be lifeforms on board. 

Hawk let his eyes run along the side of the crashed ship as they made their way closer. Most of the ship wasn’t ablaze, the engines had been, but they’d broken off the main craft when it struck the ground. 

Giving the side of the ship another once over, Hawk cleared his throat. “My HUD isn’t recognizing this freighter, sir.”

“It isn’t Republic, keep your eyes open.” Mash responded, rifle raised. 

They get to the back of the ship and the ramp is dislodged from the freighter. Giving the dark opening a quick once over, Mash nodded to Hawk and they began making their way inside. 

Cargo boxes and cages of supplies littered the space. Despite the wreckage everywhere, Mash was quick to spot an outlying object.

“10 o’clock,” Mash nodded to the corpse off to the left as they headed further into the ship. 

Hawk noted the body, as well as another farther away against the wall and followed the Sergeant. Their HUDs could pick up life signs and so far, there weren’t any.

“Hey Mack!” Baxter called out suddenly. “We’ve got some dead lizards up here!” Baxter appears from an elevated platform up the wall at the back of the cargo bay that they had been heading towards. There was most likely a door to the cockpit and a ladder somewhere. 

Mash shook his head and looked up, noting the ship was relatively small now, from what was remaining intact; the ship was now clear. 

“It’s Mash.” The Echo squad Sergeant responded under his breath, lowering his rifle in front of him 

“Trandoshans?” Hawk inquired, craning his neck to look up to where Baxter and Jack were.

“Lizards. Did I stutter, kid?” Baxter responded.

“Yeah Hawk, Trandoshans,” The remnants of a chuckle sounded through Jack’s helmet as he softened Baxter’s sarcastic response. 

Both jumped down into the cargo area and Baxter playfully knocked Hawk’s shoulder plating with his knuckles. 

A sudden shudder of cargo crates in the back right corner of the ship’s cargo bay causes the soldiers to jump into action. Mash and Hawk have their weapons trained on the origin of where the sound originated and Baxter and Jack did the same. The first sign of a potential hostile in a week. It was safe to say they were anticipating a threat.

Taking a couple steps closer, Baxter kept his rifle trained at the corner of the damaged ship’s bay before hand signaling to the others.

Mash, Hawk and Jack all gave nods in response before Baxter spoke up.

“Come out!” Voice alone, Baxter’s ranged on the lower end of what was common for clones; coupled with the helmet filtering his voice, he sounded even more menacing.

When nothing followed the demand, Baxter knocked the crates with a calculated kick of his armored leg, jostling them a good bit but not moving them enough to reveal the hostile.

“NOW!”

Changing the settings on his HUD, Mash changed his helmet display to thermal and after a couple seconds, his brow knit together at the readings coming from behind the crates.

“Bax-”

“Am I speaking Huttese? Get out here you di-”

“Take it easy, Baxter!” Mash finally snapped, jabbing the other Sergeant with his armored elbow before lowering his weapon.

“Er you crazy?” Baxter growled, helmeted gaze whipping around to the other Sergeant. 

“Alright you,” Mash took a couple of steps closer, “C’mon out,” Voice still significantly firm, but lower in volume to Baxter’s, Mash waited for some kind of response to the changed approach. 

The silence that followed doesn’t ease Baxter’s caution as he kept his rifle trained on the crates before eyes peek over one of the boxes.

“Yeah you- out.” Mash muttered pointing to the ground in front of his feet with his forefinger, rifle still held up in one hand trained ahead.

A small being made their way out from behind the crates and Hawk slowly lowered his rifle; Jack followed the action not far behind. 

Taking a moment to process the lifeform, Baxter felt his shoulders fall. “Too bad,” Baxter finally muttered. “Was looking for an excuse to unload on somethin,” Baxter’s eyes trail over the young girl now standing in front of him with slight disappointment. 

“Sir,” Jack breathed out a laugh.

“Told you Jay,” Baxter glanced back towards his slicer, “I got more of that sociopathic blood in my system than the others.” 

Mash looked over the being quietly. She was young, probably an early adolescent; dirty and emaciated. His HUD was picking up on an accelerated heart rate.

“Sir,”

Mash turned and looked over his shoulder to see his Corporal, Razor, along with Trauma Squad Corporal, Ram. 

“We went ahead and did an extra sweep of the crash site perimeter. Any life in he- Oh,” Razor caught sight of the small being that barely met the soldiers chest plates in height.

“Affirmative,” Hawk shrugged lightly, rifle at ease in front of him before he looked back down to the girl who had taken a few steps back towards the crates she’d been hiding behind.

“So we’ve got no other survivors,” Baxter stated, processing the fact before nodding. 

“The ship didn’t come up on my HU-”

“Didn’t on ours either,” Baxter cut Razor off as he looked over the torn up ship around them. 

“I’ll begin scanning the haul,” Ram offered before leaving the damaged cargo bay.

Mash looked around further before turning his eyes to Baxter as he moved out of his peripheral.

“A miracle she survived this,” The Sergeant of Trauma Squad grunted while evaluating the ship’s seemingly nonexistent roof before turning his eyes to the child. “You’re lucky, kid.”

Masterlist | Next Chapter | Chapter Art & Map | Echo & Trauma Squad

CHAPTER NOTE: If you’re reading this, well first off congratulations. I’m frankly quite surprised you haven’t fallen asleep yet or given up. Second of all, I hope you enjoyed!!! One note: Mando’a is littered throughout, I apologize if I made mistakes, I’m still learning! 

Support is appreciated if you had fun reading :) I hope to post the next chapter soon!

[grumpyhedgehogs]

what comes next

Summary:  CC-2224, an old robe, and a blaster. Cody, a love he never admitted, and dead memories. Obi-Wan used to tell him hope was the most powerful tool a person had. AO3. Part 1 of the Scraps series. Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5.

Warnings: suicidal ideation, canonical major character death. Post-Order 66.

Tagging @juitoverride and @star-temeraire, who seemed interested in my fic! (If you would like me to remove tags please let me know.)

“I think I love you,” Cody whispers. The words don’t hurt the way he expects them to, don’t burn or scrape against his vocal cords. They simply leave an age-old ache, as familiar as the embrace of a friend. The robe twists in his hands, scrunched into a ball in his fists. He can’t let go; the comforting, rough weave digs into his palms, imprinting its crosshatched pattern there. Cody savors it. It’s all he has left now.

Vader has the lightsaber. Cody’s not sure what the Sith will do with it. He doesn’t want to know--if it’s destroyed, if the one thing that for years stood between death and the one man Cody has ever loved is destroyed by that man’s student, brother, child--

Well. It’s not like Cody hasn’t already thought about what he’ll do. It’s not like Cody doesn’t already have a plan. There’s a blaster, non-regulation issue, barcode scraped off, hidden under his bunk. The other troopers leave clones be most of the time, too unsettled by whatever haunts his and his brothers’ eyes. It’s easy to sneak contraband. He’s thought of turning it on Vader before finishing the job, but he knows it wouldn’t work. If Vader was too much for--for him , there’s no way Cody is enough to stop the Sith. He’s thought about it anyway, if only because he knows the end result will be the same, enacted by his hand or Vader's. But this Force osik has screwed up Cody’s life since before it began; he doesn’t want to give the Sith any more satisfaction. It’s time Cody actually takes charge of his life.

It’s just that he can’t seem to rise from his bunk. The robe dropped to the floor in that corridor before Vader’s downswing struck. Cody knows. Cody saw . Cody waited until the rebels fled, until Vader swept away with the ‘saber, until someone in a grey uniform told him to clean up the mess Vader left behind. Then he took the robe and--left. He just left. He’s been sitting here, hands draped in fabric long thought lost, for some indeterminable length of time. He’s tired. Cody hadn’t realized how tired he is until now. It’s the type of fatigue sleep won’t fix. He can’t move, he's so damn tired; his bones are too heavy. His head is full to bursting, with regret and fear and hope and tears and a damn chip rusting away in his brain. He wishes it had never worked. He wishes it never stopped working. It was like that bright flash of blue lightsaber, that clashing sound, that old, worn smile, was so familiar that a switch flipped inside and he wasn’t CC-2224 any longer. He hates him for it. He loves him for it. Cody can’t think straight.

There’s only a few things Cody knows now, that he can keep right side up in his head. They are these: He used to be Cody, and he became CC-2224, and then he was Cody again circa a few hours ago. The man he loves is dead and Cody helped kill him and his entire family. Vader has the lightsaber. Cody has the robe and a blaster and Cody is still in love.

Cody has never said the words aloud until now. The robe isn’t comforting as much as it is damning. He clutches it close anyway. “I love you.”

“Oh no,” says a voice he won’t ever hear again. Cody clenches his eyes shut against a sob. He can see him now as if he is in the room with Cody. He’s sitting across from Cody, leaning forward in a perfect mirror of his former commander with his elbow on his knees. He reaches forward and clasps Cody’s hands in his; Cody thinks he wouldn’t hold as tight as Cody would like him to. He was always so careful with the clones, with everyone he met. He never wanted to hurt anyone. He was the best warrior Cody's ever known. His fingers would be dry and soft and calm and heavy on Cody’s fists. He can almost feel it as if it is real. “No, Cody, no.” Obi-Wan repeats quietly. “Don’t do that. Anything but that.”

“But I do. ” He’s crying like a youngling. If he gets too much salt water on the robe it won’t smell like Obi-Wan anymore. “I love you.”

“Don't love me if you can help it. It won’t do either of us any good now,” Obi-Wan answers, insufferably reasonable. “You have to stop Cody. Oh, darling, you simply must stop hurting yourself like this. You know my heart couldn’t bear it.”

“I killed you.”

“You tried . You'll find you didn’t quite succeed. I’m quite infuriating that way, I’m afraid.”

“I loved you and I helped kill you. I shot at you.”

“I do have that effect on people,” Obi-Wan says airily. “I tend to be a very divisive person. Inspire strong feelings and all that. Can’t be helped.”

“You’re dead.”

“Well, yes,” Obi-Wan agrees, still sounding arch and amused. Cody wishes he could open his eyes to see the familiar, infuriating expression, but he can’t. He knows he’ll be alone when he looks up. He can’t swallow it yet. “But that doesn’t mean we both have to be dead, dear heart.”

“I can’t go on without you. I don’t think I have the strength for it.”

“You’re not alone Cody. I might be gone, but I didn’t take everyone you love with me.”

Rex disappeared right after Cody turned into CC-2224. Ahsoka Tano is still at large. There have been rumblings of a growing rebellion. The blaster under his bunk calls to him again but Cody’s too busy listening to the one voice he wishes he could have back and never will.

“You’ve been on leave long enough, Cody,” Obi-Wan tells him, the sound of his voice fading as he does. Cody knows he is smiling without looking. “It’s time to get back to work.”

Cody opens his eyes. He is alone. It hurts so much he can’t breathe. He does it anyway, if only because Obi-Wan would want him to. Ahsoka. Rex. The rebellion. The trio that ran--Obi-Wan had died to protect them. A boy, barely a man, with blond hair, screaming for Ben as he was dragged away. The princess of a dead planet shooting like she had been born with a blaster in her hands. A man and a Wookie, piloting a ship like Cody hasn’t seen a person do in decades. This is the rebellion? This is what is left of everything they had fought for? This is what Obi-Wan would have him live for?

So be it.

Cody takes the blaster and the robe with him when he goes.

[ayo-cowbelly]

Hold Me Until The Sun Comes Up (and the stars fade away)

read on ao3 here

I should be working on the next chapter of my WIP, but the plot bunny grabbed me and wouldn't let go.

I'm apologizing in advance for this one.

hope you enjoy, sorry i'm so evil, but blyla is just perfect angst fuel (a beautiful tragedy, those two).

~

 The first time Aayla kissed Bly was on Maridun. One of the nights they spent there, before they infiltrated the Separatist base. The night after seeing what the droids’ new toy could really do.

 Aayla had pulled Bly aside, concern in her typically-guarded eyes. For all that Aayla was companionable, she wasn’t one to open up easily. At least, not to her men. But that night, something was different.

     “You’re alright?” She asked.  

     “Yes, I’m fine- General, is everything okay?”  

     “You almost- Bly, what if-”  

     Understanding what she was saying, Bly finished, “What if you hadn’t gotten to me in time?”  

     She nodded gravely. “That weapon- it destroys every living thing, Bly,” she paused, running her hand down his cheek. They had discussed these… feelings, before, this unspoken thing between them; but they had agreed that a war was no place to explore such things. “It would have destroyed you too.”  

     “But it didn’t. You saved me, Gen- Aayla,” he corrected, remembering her request to be called by her name in private. “You saved me. I’m alright.”  

     “Bly, what if next time-”  

     “There won’t be a next time, I promise.” It was a selfish promise, they both knew it, but it was one Bly made anyway. He couldn’t guarantee he would be able to honor it, but he would fight tooth and nail to try. He loved her too much to cause her pain. “And if there is, you’ll be there to keep me safe. As always.”  

     Aayla gave him a wavering smile. “And you’ll save me.”  

     “Of course I will.”  

     “We make a good team, don’t we?”  

     “Yeah, we really do,” Bly whispered, knowing he should push her away. The way she was looking at him, touching him, it was everything they agreed not to pursue.  

     But he couldn’t do it. The soldier in him was chanting all the things that could go wrong, yelling at him to walk away, just walk away-  

     But his heart kept him there, in the arms of a beautiful Twi’lek  on a secluded planet in the far reaches of the galaxy. “Aayla, we- we said we wouldn’t do this.” Why did he have to say that? He just promised he’d save her, vowed to himself he wouldn’t hurt her, but he’d already gone and done otherwise. He could see it in the way her shoulders deflated, just so.  

     “I know,” She murmured, soft fingers tracing his tattoos. “But please, can I do this? Just once?” Before he could reply, she slowly pushed herself up and pressed her lips to his.  

     The kiss was over quickly, but the remnants of it were seared onto Bly’s skin.  

 That was the first time, when they said there wouldn’t be more.

 ~

 The second time was on their Star Destroyer, about three months later.

 That was when their past agreement unraveled, giving way to something more.

     “We said we wouldn’t do this.”  

     “Must you always remind me?” Bly said, almost irritated. He loved this woman, practically worshipped the ground she walked on, and though he had as much say in their current relationship status as she, it was… bothersome to think about, for lack of a better word. He couldn’t let himself get too upset over it- feelings fade in time.  

     Don’t they? Shouldn’t this, this unspoken thing, have waned by now? Why did it not leave him, why did it insist on burning in him? Why did he still blush when she smiled at him, his heart race when she neared, get annoyed when a shiny looked at her the way he did?  

     It should have gone away. It should’ve.  

     But it hadn’t. Instead, it grew stronger.  

     “Bly…”  Aayla started.  

     “Yes, yes, I know- we’re fighting a war, we could die any day, you’re a Jedi…” He trailed off, the anger he had been feeling slightly dampening. He couldn’t blame Aayla for their situation.  

     “It’s not that I’m a Jedi. Love is not what is forbidden. It’s just… fighting a war, something I’m not meant to do- I fear I am more prone to attachment now. I can’t let it consume me. There’s a reason attachment is not allowed for Jedi, for the fallout of such things can be disastrous. It is selfish.”  

     “I know,” he sighed, remembering how she’d explained it before. “But Aayla, we said that whatever this is would eventually go away. For me, it hasn’t. It’s just gotten worse.”  

     “Worse?” She said in a lighthearted tone. “Is it really so bad to love me?” Her attempt to lighten the mood worked just a tiny bit, but it didn’t really make Bly feel any better.  

     “You know what I mean.”  

     Aayla looked down. “Yes, I do. Very much,” she said in a hushed tone. “So what do we do?”  

     “I don’t- I don’t know.” He walked across the small training room, rubbing his head frustratedly.  

     “Maybe there is a way to love deeply without getting attached, even in war,” She uttered, sounding like she was saying it more to herself. “The Force might show me how.”  

     Bly turned back to Aayla. “What are you saying?”  

     She lifted her head, and the look in her eyes was enough to take his breath away. “I love you.”  

     “I love you too, but Aayla-”  

     “Shut up and let me kiss you, Commander,” She ran towards him and launched herself into his arms, which were waiting for her.  

 ~

 The third time she kissed him was in private on Coruscant.

 They were finally on leave, three months after the beginning of their relationship. They had been in his (thankfully private) quarters, the night they first arrived.

     “You seem upset.”  

     “I’m not upset,” Bly muttered. Aayla got up from the bed and wrapped her arms around his chest. She attempted to make eye contact with him, chuckling and rolling her eyes as he repeatedly avoided her gaze.  

     “Bly, I can literally feel emotions,” She joked. “What’s wrong?”  

     “It’s nothing,” He tried again, but quickly relented. “Just- it’s stupid.”  

     “Your feelings are not stupid, Bly. Irrational, maybe-” Aayla giggled at his exasperated expression. But upset as he was, her laughter always warmed his heart. “Sorry, fine, I’ll stop- but in all seriousness, what’s the matter?”  

     It took her a few pokes in the shoulder, a soft hit in the chest and finally resorting to holding his head in place with her hands to keep it from moving, but she finally got him to answer.  

     “I didn’t like how they looked at you.”  

     “Who?”  

     “Those men, at the bar. The ones from the other battalion. They look at you how I look at you, and I wish I could-”  

     “Bly, look at me,” Aayla gave him a kind half-smile. “Those men might think I am pretty, but they don’t look at me the way you do. You look at me like I’m beautiful, like I am beyond comparison, because you love me- and it makes me so incredibly happy. You make me happy, happier than I’ve ever been. Nobody else could ever come close to making me feel the way I feel when I’m with you.”  

     Bly had no words to respond with.  

     So when she kissed him, he kissed her back with all his love, all the words he couldn’t find.  

 ~

 The fourth time she kissed him was on Chandrila. A small squad of the 327th was stationed there to protect Senator Mon Mothma from a dangerous assassin that had been threatening her.

 Aayla and Bly had left her apartment for the night, and though they should have returned to where the squad was staying, they found they had just enough time to sneak away for a bit.

     Bly laid on top of one of the many mountains just outside Hanna City, Aayla held close in his arms.  

     “How long do you think we have?” Bly asked, fingers running up and down her arm.       

     “I’d say maybe twenty minutes, give or take,” She said quietly. Neither wanted to speak too loud, not wanting to mar the gentle night by being too noisy.  

     “This planet is beautiful,” Bly commented.    

     “Yes, it is. I forgot how much I loved it here- I haven’t been since years before the war started. I wish we had more peaceful missions like this one.”       

     “Me too; ironic, huh, considering I was made for war,” he quipped, but it came out sounding bitter. Bly mentally kicked himself for saying it, sure he had ruined this moment.  

     Aayla sat up and leaned over him, a tender but fierce fire in her eyes. “Listen to me. You may have been intended for war, but you are so much more than that. You are loyal, you are brave, kind, and smart. You make me laugh when I think I can’t, you give me hope when there is none; I love you, Bly, and I always will.”  

     She always said things with a note of finality, had a way of speaking that you couldn’t help but believe anything that came out of her mouth.  

     “You’re amazing, you know that?” He said, placing his hand on her cheek.  

     Leaning into the touch, Aayla placed a quick peck on his forehead before laying down again. She cuddled closer to him, pointing out constellations and telling stories of her previous visits to Hanna City. They stayed there, him holding her tight, and he wished he could always do this, wished they could stay here on this hilltop until the stars faded away.  

     “Aayla, I love you,” Bly whispered into the night. Though he had said it countless times before, this was different; it was final, a conviction.  

     She faced him again, kissing him softly but surely. “And I love you.”  

     It was a vow full of promises, a tether that bound these two souls together, no matter where they might end up.  

     Wherever they landed, wherever the galaxy pulled them towards, they would always come back to each other.  

 ~

 Then there was the time he kissed her.

 They were on Felucia, a place that, no matter how many colorful plants called it home, always appeared to be drained of life in his nightmares.

 How horrible, that the last time he saw the love of his life would become his worst nightmare.

     “Bly, do you think it’s droids?”  

     “No.”  

     CC-5052 fired his weapon, despite Bly screaming not to. The countless barrage of bright blue pierced her skin, shoved her to the ground and kept her there.  

     Despite what you might have heard or seen, Aayla Secura’s death was not a silent one. Above the sound of blaster shots, you could hear her normally-composed voice screaming and begging for her love to stop.  

     Her shouts wormed their way past the chip’s defenses, reached into Bly’s mind, and he fought. He scratched and tore at the chip, the cage it placed him in. He needed to get to her, he needed to stop this, save her, stop this, please STOP-  

     Finally, when it was over, CC-5052 lowered his weapon and Bly escaped. Ripping off his helmet, he threw himself on the ground and pulled Aayla towards him. He checked for a pulse (he refused to admit what he already knew- he would not find a beating heart). He could not stop thinking of how she had just been so warm, when he had hugged her just minutes ago in private-  

     She was so warm, so beautiful; but now her electric blue skin was charred and gray and oh so burnt. He couldn’t have done this, he couldn’t have, he would never.  

     “Aayla-” Her name was the only word he could get out, the war for dominance in his mind taking a toll. He didn’t have much time.  

     “I’m sorry-” Bly hastily pressed his lips to hers, an apology, a vow, a plea for forgiveness. His tears coated her face, giving him the illusion that they were her own, that she was still alive, for she could not be dead, she couldn’t- He couldn’t bear it.  

     Hadn’t they promised to save each other?  

     He felt broken. So shattered, so torn, just like her skin that was blemished with the blaster wounds he’d given her-  

     Then all feeling was gone.  

     CC-5052 got up, turning away from the dead traitor’s body.  

     He had reports to make, troopers to check over. The traitor was not important. He had completed his mission, so it was now time to move on. Time to await new instructions. After all,  

     Good soldiers follow orders.  

[adhdstudybitch]

Practical Tips for ADHD College Students

I know a few posts like this already exist, but I wanted to add my own experiences to the mix in case it would be helpful to someone else. Some of these will look familiar, some not so much.

Disclaimers: 1) What works for me may not work for you, take everything with a grain of salt and experiment, 2) These are what I’m using for a 4-year school but I imagine it would be applicable for any college? I wish I’d known to do some of these things when I was at CC, 3) I won’t pretend that I am an ADHD success story, not yet. I’m still finding my way, learning to cope, learning to thrive. It’s a process.

NOTE: This post is kinda long; if it’s too long I recommend just reading the bolded/italicized headings and only reading the ones that pique your interest :)

Sensory Issues:

Wear comfortable clothing: Screw the mentality that you always have to look your best in college. At the end of the day, feeling hot but ridiculously uncomfortable will trigger sensory issues (especially if you’re someone who is sensitive to certain materials/styles of clothing) and it will impact concentration and can cause a lot of distress. Are you comfortable in those sweatpants, pajama bottoms, baggy shirts? Cool, wear them. 

Stim toys: Love yourself, buy (or make!) stim toys and bring them to school. Can’t speak for CC because I didn’t use stim toys when I went, but at my 4-year school everyone is too busy drowning in deadlines to notice you squishing thinking putty or using a fidget cube under the table. 

Try different stim toys: I used to get caught up on trying to make the more popular stim toys work for me when they didn’t, so I had to experiment a bit to see what worked. It’s not always as simple as cubes, spinners, squishy toys, etc. If you have issues with texture you’ll want to really experiment, especially with things like putty, squishibles, etc. to see what is comfortable and what isn’t. But there’s a big ol’ market out there!

Headphones/Earplugs: The single most helpful sensory detail for me was always bringing my headphones to campus. I get easily overstimulated in uncontrolled situations with lots of different sounds. I make sure my volume is enough to block the noise out, but the songs I choose in these instances are usually familiar, so they don’t provide too much new stimulation when I can’t handle it. I also keep earplugs in my backpack for exams.

Studying/School Related:

If possible, leave your house: This has been one of the hardest changes I’ve had to make because I’m an introvert and genuinely prefer being home. But I’m starting to learn that my ass will not do work 9/10 times when I’m home. Too much to do, too many other things to get done, lots of fun distractions, and cats! So many cats! Unfortunately cats won’t take my exams. I’ve found that the library is okay, but for me small cafes worked much better. Armed with my headphones, some coffee, and an atmosphere that caters to silently getting work done, I’m able to focus longer, and to focus on what I really need to.

Note-taker: Admittedly I’m talking out of my ass on this one, because I haven’t yet done this. But that’s exactly why I want to stress getting a note-taker. My college life would be infinitely better if I’d done this when the semester started; instead, my notes have gaps where I couldn’t concentrate, or couldn’t process what was being discussed, etc. 

Other accommodations: Accommodations for ADHD differ depending on the college, but some of the common ones are: note-takers, silent exam spaces, assignment extensions, and use of tech such as recorders, speech-to-text software... If you’re like I was and are worried that you’re asking too much asking for accommodations, remember two important things: 1) Accommodations exist to level the playing field, not to give us an edge, and 2) YOU PAY FOR THIS SERVICES. That huge, overwhelming tuition bill with all those “extra fees”? You’re paying for these services already, might as well take advantage of them!

Talk to your professors: This part is truly terrifying for me, but I’ve started opening up this semester to my professors and it has made a difference. The professor for my hardest class actually has a son with adhd so she understood and was even able to provide me with some resources that would help. At the very least, it made my professors aware of my struggles and aware that I wasn’t just being lazy, which calmed my RSD a bit.

Organization: Staying organized is important for any college student, but especially for those with adhd. We lose things a lot, and if things aren’t in obvious, constant places it becomes so much easier to lose or forget where we put things. That being said, your ‘organized’ will probably not be other peoples ‘organized’. For example, I use my Ipsy bags for organization. One holds any writing utensils, flashcards, and post-its, another holds anything medical-related, etc. It seems a bit cluttered and disorganized to other people but it works for me. So try keeping things in the same spot if possible, but remember that finding what organizational structures work for you might take time and effort. If your school has success coaching, I highly recommend it for this purpose! Which brings me to the next point.

Success Coaching: Most colleges offer some kind of program like this, though names may differ. Success Coaching is designed for students of any academic level in order to help them get and stay on track. My college offers study skills, schedule planning, test prep, time management, help navigating campus resources, and a whole host of others. And the people doing the coaching are usually grad students who’ve been through the process. They’re typically trained in working with students with adhd, because that tends to be a significant portion of their students. They’re also just really nice to talk to. Almost like a therapist, but not quite.

Really forgetful? The best thing you can do is change your environment, not try to change yourself. You probably won’t be able to stop your brain from forgetting your notebook at home, but you can get a five subject and keep it in your backpack at all times. Same with folders. Keep losing pens/pencils? Just get a fuckton and shove them in a pouch in your backpack in the beginning of the semester. I’m not kidding when I say I have at least 20 pens and pencils in mine, not including the glitter pens and highlighters. 

Planners: Many people have said that it will take time to find just the right planner for you, and they’re correct. The planner I use right now is 8x11 with wide boxes. Some prefer smaller planners, others will use planner apps or just the calendar in their phone. You’ll have to mess around a bit to see what works for you, but you do have options!

Printables: Oh man I love printables so much, but a lot of the time I find that they’re more trouble maintaining than my adhd can handle. You can find a ton on tumblr, free to download and print, and some very beautiful packs for sale on etsy. Right now I use a monthly budget printable and one for studying terms/definitions. Sometimes the adhd mind needs something pretty and different to cling to, so I try to switch things up every so often.

Color-coding: This absolutely will not work for everyone (I’ve seen people say color-coding notes gets the hung up on the coding and not the notes, and I can definitely see that happening). For me, I use color-coding in my planner. Each class gets its own color. This keeps me from seeing a page covered in the same color of ink or pencil and mentally blocking it out. Gelly roll has the most amazing glitter pens!

Test prep: Will vary depending on the person and how they learn best, but for me I’ve found that no one method will work on its own. I have class notes, typed notes, hand-written flashcards, flashcards on quizlet. I won’t pretend that it’s easy; it’s fuck-all time consuming and sometimes I don’t have energy for it, but depending on the class I usually need a combination of at least two different methods to work. This is definitely something success coaching can work with you to figure out!

General Life Advice (that will impact college):

Get on a sleep schedule: I don’t even care what your particular schedule is (because it’ll vary person to person) but just get on one. Much easier said than done, because our brains never want to shut up at night, but lack of a consistent sleep schedule will mess with your concentration, focus, hypersensitivity, etc. 

I’ll just do this later...: is the adhd monster talking. What even is later? Does it exist? Sometimes I have to tell myself “nope, we’re doing this right now!” Doesn’t always work, but I try my hardest to do things in the moment if executive dysfunction isn’t at my door.

Develop a support system: This can be difficult because sometimes making and maintaining friendships with adhd can be hard, and sometimes family members aren’t very receptive or supportive. But a strong support system can make all the difference in the world! If your current friends don’t understand the extent of what you’re dealing with, send some resources their way and you might be surprised how fast they get in your corner. But sometimes people without adhd just don’t get it. If your college has a meet-up for students with adhd like mine does, this is a great place to meet like-minded students who understand what you’re going through and can provide support and advice! 

I’m going to stop this here because it’s already too long, but I hope this is helpful to someone and I’d love it if you could add your own tips as well! 

[thesummerstorms]

Rev Recaps Hard Contact (Chapter 13)

CW: mentions of past attempted sexual assault & dealing with the attacker, mind influence/control

TL:DR Recap: Darman and Etain are finally reunited with the rest of Omega. Unfortunately, Guta-Nay is also there. Etain and the squad develop a plan, but it involves sending Guta-Nay to his death.

Beginning Kal Count: 24 Ending Kal Count: 25

We open with what’s honestly one of my favorite exchanges between Niner and Fi, and I can’t resist screenshotting it right off the bat:

“Hey, Sarge, I’m being positive.”

“Are you on drugs?”

Fi noticing that Niner is on edge and offering to swap and Niner being too stubborn to do it,even though he specifically hates doing that exact job.

They’re still dragging Guta-Nay around with the, which unfortunately means this chapter is whenI have to start dealing with him. But even as Niner tries to press him for more info, Guta-Nay is too stupid to give it. Even when Niner plays charades to get his point across.

Atin sens up a remote to scout ahead of them, and they accidentally end up spying on Darman, who aims a gun at the remote but luckily refrains from shooting it.

I legitimately can’t tell you why I love that scene. I just do. Anyway, within five minutes they finally, finally rendezvous with Darman and Etain. Etain is having a hard time adjusting to actually seeing Niner, Fi, and Atin, even though intellectually she already knew that Darman was clone. Fi makes a joke about Guta-Nay smelling bad. Etain asks for Omega’s names. Someone was about to introduce themselves as a CC (clone commander) rather than an RC (Republic Commando) again, but she cuts them off.

Darman was the first one to break the rule with Jusik, but he’s been embarrassed every time it comes up, and it clearly now embarrasses him to break the taboo around his squad, even if Etain’s been calling him by his name for a while. Social conditioning is intense. However, this time Fi and Niner introduce themselves as well, where as I think last time it was just Atin.

... unfortunately, I now have to deal with Guta-Nay.

Again, Etain’s meant to be Jedi, yes, but 1000% percent not blaming her for the reaction. I just /love/ how seeing Guta-Nay, who she explicitly calls a rapist and who attempted to attack her, gets to be the trigger for her to be ashamed of her emotions, restrained by one of the male characters (even if it is Dar and he doesn’t know the context) and Niner’s comment about Guta-Nay being useful sends her immediately into a self worth spiral as she ... is she supposed to be comparing herself to Guta-Nay here? Or is this just a reaction because the two emotional triggers are intertwined from this whole experience, or..?

Anyway, isn’t it great? /sarcasm

(Hat tip to Dar for being bold enough to grab a Jedi’s arm while they have their lightsaber ignited, I guess, though.)

Can I... can I just mention that on one hand, I can make a Watsonian interpretation for why Etain’s reaction to being told the person who tried to rape her might have useful information might be for her brain to jump to waiting for Darman to tell her how much he despises her... but on the other hand, I don’t care and I hate Traviss intensely for setting this scene up this way?

But, in what’s going to be pretty typical Etain fashion from this point in the series on, that sense of worthlessness drives her pretty much immediately to action. She asks Niner what information they need, and then sits Guta Nay down across from her, and waits until they’ve both calmed down. And then she immediately sets to using Force-persuasion to convince Guta-Nay to talk. This time, unlike when he was chasing her, she doesn’t struggle with it at all.

side note, there is a kind of sweet moment with Atin and Darman that I like, but it’s weirdly placed- breaks up the rest of the moment from Etain’s pov:

Then we switch to Niner’s pov, probably because Etain is busy with the Weequay and no one actually wants to hear him talk, least of all me as a reader, and also KT needs an opportunity for Omega to be doubtful of Etain.

Niner hates scruffy rig. Darman actually does clean his deecee when nervous; it isn’t just a weird innuendo that someone had to point out to me. Darman pulls out the holomaps that Etain... stole? I just realized I have no idea where she got them. But she’s been guarding them this whole time. He proceeds to praise her, unprompted, but Niner has already been told by Jinart that Etain is useless, so he’s skeptical.

Kal Count of 25. Dar just kind of regrets opening his mouth, I think, and wishes his brother would back off. But he does want to try to defend Etain, even if he’s had his own doubts before this point. So first he tries the standard defense, then when Niner isn’t content with that, he does his best. But Niner is freaked out by Jedi Mind Influence, not reassured like Darman was in the escape scene. I’m not really sure what to even make about “human females” and the fact that KT really needs to drive home that, after being behind enemy lines for three months, Etain has no sex appeal.

There’s also that word “emaciated” again.

Finally, Etain finishes her interrogation. She briefly mistakes Niner for Dar, but immediately corrects herself by saying “Of course, you’re Niner.” She reports on what little she can and offers to try to summon Jinart with the Force.

This is actually a scene that will be recounted again- apparently Darman will tell Kal about it at some point between leaving Qiilura and seeing Etain again in Triple Zero. Skipping a bit ahead, but:

Listen, the thought up Darman telling Kal all about the Jedi he absolutely Doesn’t Have a Crush On, maybe enthusiastically, maybe shyly, should make me smile, except given how Kal will treat their relationship in that book and the things he’ll accuse Etain of, it just makes me sad.

Anyway, I’m digressing. This is clearly a big moment for Niner, and he’s surprised that Etain can tell that Atin has been hurt in particular. I don’t entirely get why Traviss goes back and forth on what motivations/emotions Etain can sense to what strength (say like... her not being able to feel Darman’s grief for Theta squad versus immediately feeling Atin’s grief for his TWO former squads plus the Vau abuse we technically don’t know about till next book.) But I’m always going to rule in favor of her being stronger at Force sense because it’s really her signature Force ability, and Traviss has a bad habit of lowering her ability levels out of nowhere so she can be yelled at.

Niner explains what happened to Atin, and Etain expresses sympathy, and promises to see if there’s a way she can help. She specifically mentions Force encouragement, which makes me a little uncomfortable and which she decides by the next novel never to use again without permission. But Niner, despite his worry a few paragraphs ago, is favorably impressed.

We timeskip and go back to Etain’s point of view then. The commandos notice someone approaching, but it’s only Jinart.

Niner is the member of Omega who gets picked on for being straightlaced, but ngl, I relate to him a lot in this book.

Jinart lets them know that while Hokan is trying to bluff them into thinking Uthan is in the villa, she’s actually back in the facility, which makes me wonder what the point of all those Hokan POV scenes were. They start trying to brainstorm how to get into the facility, which has no extra exits or conspicuous vents because it’s meant to secure a bioweapon, and realize that they’ll still have to deal with the droids in the villa anyway, as close as they are. 

So they decide to try and smuggle in a bomb to take out the villa droids pre-preemptively because Hokan has already (for reason I still don’t understand) filled the basement there with explosives, In order to make it worth while, they want Hokan to think they’ve really fallen for his trick and are headed for the villa only, and thus to put most of the droids there.

A) Shut up,Jinart, you don’t get to be bitter.

B) Etain is already falling into that pragmatism thing. And I don’t think she’s wrong here. But she’s going to have more trouble actually doing it than she thinks.

And then it’s finally time to find out the origin of the gurlanin. Jinart reveals that Qiilura is her homeworld and that the settlers have destroyed her habitat without knowing the gurlanin were there, so she wants all of them, but especially the Trade Federation. Etain says she’ll make sure the Republic follows through, and Jinart threatens- “make sure you do” because the gurlanin are good at being everywhere. It’s foreshadowing for the next three books, of course, which all involve plot points with the gurlanin, as much as I wish I could be rid of them.

So they set about convincing Guta-Nay that there’s another squad and they intend to all attack the villa, except he’s so stupid they barely need to act. We get this really, really, really terrible line from Etain’s point of view:

Listen, this is where I’m drawing a line with this whole thing, Traviss. Because making the rapist who attempted to harm your main character from a race “so stupid that they can barely communicate functionally with humans and are all prone to drinking and criminality” wasn’t bad enough, we now get “the rapist is a monstrous child who isn’t able to control himself or understand that other people have feelings” which is the most bullshit thing in a series FULL of bullshit. No. Fuck that.

On the other hand, we do get one of my top five favorite scenes in the whole book, one of the few moments where Atin and Etain get to have a friendship, and something I really, really, really wish had been built on in later books.

Atin: Making my explosives neatly is WORTH the possibility of getting shot in the ass.

Atin walks her through all the squad’s tech, first letting her hold his deecee and look through the scope, then when she asks letting her try on his helmet and talking her through the HUD. He’s skeptical the whole time, but also, it takes some trust and patience to talk the commander who you are dubious knows her stuff through all of your personal kit. But Atin is the tech guy, and this is his wheelhouse and he shows her that patience. He also talks to her about the (perceived, not necessarily accurate) differences between ARCs, commandos, and troopers as he understands it.

I’m still not comfortable with the Force aspect of this, but it’s walked back in the next book. Atin fumbing the wire and pretending to focus hard because he’s embarrassed. And Etain is very touchy feely- I lose track of how many times in this series she grabs or pats or reaches for someone’s arm or hugs them or kisses them on the cheek.

Then we get to the part that’s actually my favorite:

It’s just... really nice? Seeing Etain get a little bit of respect and a little bit of friendship and feeling it in return? I will never be over the fact that it’s thrown away after this book. In fact, I can’t remember if she and Atin ever speak to each other again.

Eventually they finish up and Etain alternates between trying to sleep and trying to see if Guta-Nay has left yet. A couple of watches change. Fi attempts to feed her and is turned down. And Etain realizes she’s going to have to make Guta-Nay run, directly use Force persuasion to make him want to go back to Hokan, when he’s trusting the Republic to keep its word and not kill him.

It’s a good thing the chapter ends here, because honestly there’s gonna be so much bullshit to unpack in the next chapter, and I’m too tired for that.

[benhardyisdaddy]

Royal Protection - Part 14

MASTERLIST 

(hope you all like this sksksks next chap will be the last <3) 

Word Count: 1,789

“How’s that?” asks Lucy. 

She had spent hours trying to find you the perfect wig that was her length, color and style. You all decided if you’re going to do this, you were going to go all out. You looked in the mirror and smile, amazed by how much it looked like her short blonde locks. You gently run your hand over it and look back to her. 

“Perfect.” 

Lucy squeals and claps her hands together, proud of her work. You were already changed into one of Lucy’s outfits. A plain black long sleeved blouse, black trousers and black shoes. Very simple and easy. You look back to her and she has on a wig that matches your hair color, style and length. She’s in one of your nightgowns, ready for bed. Everything was going perfectly. There’s a knock at your door and your heart almost stops. It creaks open and in walks Joe. You release a breath. 

“Alright, I got the address for Ben. Was a bit harder than I thought it would be. Here you go.” 

He hands you a piece of paper with writing on it. You smile and fold it up as you place it in your pants pocket. 

“So we know the plan?” asks Joe, looking between you two. 

You both nod. 

“Yes, I’m pretending to be Lucy. Joe will walk me out to the car and nobody will realize it’s actually me. Rami will be in the car, waiting for me. He’ll drive me to this destination and I’ll find Ben.” you say, smiling. 

“And I’m pretending to be y/n. I’ll lay in bed and act like I’m sleeping, making sure to keep the covers over my face slightly, but letting the wig be seen to anyone that enters.” 

Joe nods and smiles. 

“Perfect. Alright, Luc. Get comfy.” he says. 

Lucy smiles widely and gives you a big hug. 

“Go get your man.” she whispers in your ear. 

You lean back and smile to her as she walks to your bed and slides under the covers. She gets in a good position and speaks up. 

“Is this good?” she asks. 

You walks towards the door and look back at her. 

“That’s perfect, Luc! No one will ever notice it’s not me.” 

Everyone’s happy with their accomplishments as Joe opens up your door and peeks his head out. He looks around the hallway. 

“All clear.” he whispers. 

You close your eyes and take in a deep breath as you take a step out. Joe shuts the door just as two of your night guards walk up. They must be brand new. 

“The princess is asleep.” says Joe to them. 

They both nod and thank him as you keep your head low and walk away. You look to Joe and smile at how you went unnoticed. He smiles back as you both keep walking. You finally make it to the foyer and spot the front door just right across the room. You both quietly make your way towards it until someone calls out. 

“Joseph! Lucy!” 

You both freeze as Joe turns around fast. You know that voice. It was your father. 

“Your Majesty.” says Joe in his professional voice.

“Has y/n gone to bed?” he asks, getting closer. 

Your heart was racing and you knew you were going to have to turn around to him eventually. He would have asked Lucy if she was unwell if you didn’t. You keep your head low as you slowly turn and stare at the ground. Your father looks at you and then to Joe. He suddenly looks back at you fast, his eyes squinting. 

“Y/n?” he whispers. “Is that you?” 

You close your eyes and slowly lift your head up, revealing yourself. You sadly smile as your father gasps at your new appearance. 

“What in the world are you doing? Why are you dressed like that? What’s going on?” he asks fast, still confused. 

“Sir, if I may-” starts Joe.

“Daddy, it was my idea!” you say fast. 

Joe looks to you with wide eyes as you take the blame, even though it was his idea. 

“I came up with all of this. I tricked them into helping me.” 

“Helping you with what exactly?” he asks. 

You’re quiet for a moment. 

“To go see Ben, daddy.” you whisper. “I need to see him.” 

Your father’s quiet as he watches your eyes water up. 

“I’m sorry. I just needed to see him.” you silently sob out. 

Your face is scrunched up as your father slowly walks up to you. You think you’re going to get scolded, but by your surprise, he lifts his hand up and cups your face. You look up at him and he has a loving smile while looking at you. 

“Good thing I’m not your mother.” he whispers. 

You let out a breathy laugh as he chuckles. 

“You deserve to be happy, my love. Now go!” he says fast. 

You can’t help but smile wide as you lean forward fast and hug him. He kisses the top of your head as you pull away and hurry to the front doors. Joe opens them up as you look back at your father and share one last smile with him. You turn around and rush down the steps and to the car. As the front doors slam close, your mother walks into the foyer and spots your father. 

“Who was that?” she asks, walking up to him. 

Your father’s still smiling and looking at the door. 

“Oh, just Lucy and Joe.” he tells her. 

“Is y/n in bed?” she asks. 

He turns to look at her and grins. 

“Yep.” 

***

You’re in the car and greet Rami. He hurriedly pulls away and begins driving. You slip off your wig and run your hand through your hair. Your leg keeps bouncing out of nervousness. Joe was watching you closely and at how jittery you were. 

“It’s going to be okay.” he says. 

You look over at him fast and stop your movements. You smile apologetically and take in a deep breath. 

“What if he sends me away?” you ask. “What if he doesn’t want me anymore?” 

“Why would you think that?” he asks. “Get those thoughts out of your head. He wouldn’t do that.” 

You nod and look out the window, the sun now setting. You all continue driving as you watch cars pass by. All you can think of is Ben. Ben, Ben, Ben, Ben-

“We’re here.” 

You look up as the car stops. You’re in front of some flats as you unbuckle. 

“Which one’s his?” you ask. 

“It’s five houses down.” says Rami. “I figured you wouldn’t want anymore attention to you if I parked here.” 

You smile to him and hug him from behind. 

“Thank you.” you whisper. 

You turn to Joe and he’s smiling. 

“You got this.” he tells you. 

“I got this.” you say sternly. 

You take in a deep breath and let it out. You open up your door and slip out of the car. You shut it behind you and keep your eyes on Ben’s flat. You force yourself to move your feet as you begin walking. You’re shaking a bit when you’re a house away from his. You freeze suddenly when his front door opens up. A blonde woman walks out and Ben’s behind her. You look around frantically and hide behind a bush. You peer over it and watch as they laugh together. The girl leans in and hugs him tightly, a huge smile on both of their faces. Your heart breaks. She waves goodbye as she walks down the steps and continues walking down the road and turns a corner. 

Ben’s still standing there as he looks around, taking in the fresh air. You go to quietly walk away, but your foot gets caught on something. You trip a bit and squeal. Ben looks over fast as you stand back up and look to him quickly. You turn around and begin walking away. He squints his eyes as he walks down his steps. 

“Y/n!?” he calls out. 

You freeze as he says your name. You close your eyes and don’t move. You can hear him hurrying down the steps and to you. 

“Y/n?” he calls out again. 

This time, you turn around. You sadly smile to him as he stops in his tracks. He was beyond shocked to see you at his home. His eyes are wide as he looks around. 

“What... What are you doing here?” he asks fast. 

“I shouldn’t have came. I’m so sorry.” 

You turn around and go to walk away, but he grabs your arm. You spin around and you’re facing him once more. He’s close to you. He looks at you intensely as you tense your jaw. 

“What are you doing?” he asks again. 

You feel tears threaten to spill, but you blink your eyes and try to avoid them. 

“You left.” you whisper. 

Ben’s face falls. 

“You just... left. I was miserable and needed to see you, so I came here. I found you. I found you, but then I saw you with that girl and I should have never came.” you say fast. 

Ben’s brows raise up as he lets out a loud laugh. You look at him half hurt as he just laughs. 

“That girl?” he asks. “That girl you just saw leave?” 

You shake your head not understanding. 

“You mean my sister?” 

Your face falls as you look down and awkwardly laugh. 

“Oh.” is all you can say. 

“I left because I was forced to. Your mother said if I had any connections to you, she’d do everything in her power to break them. I took that as a threat.” 

Your blood boils in anger. You had no idea she had said that to him. Oh, that woman! 

“But you have no idea,” he says, walking closer to you and gently cupping your face. “How badly I wanted to stop that car and go to you. No idea.” he whispers.  

“I wish you had.” you whisper back. 

“Me too.” 

“I missed you.” 

“I missed you even more.” 

And with that, Ben leans forward and kisses you hard. You lean into him and tangle your hand into his hair. 

“I can’t believe you came here.” he whispers against you. 

“I need you.” you tell him. “You have no idea how badly I need you.” 

Ben smiles as he kisses you again. 

“I honestly never thought I’d see you again. Stay with me.” 

You look up to him and notice a spark in his eye. You smile and nod as you graze your finger over his bottom lip. 

“Okay.” 

Tag List: @denimmay @onceuponadetectivedemigod @loveandbeloved29 @oh-well1 @billyhargovesgurl@tbird20165 @kurt-nightcrawler @borhapgrande @laurentaylor-hardy@thequirksofbeingafangirl @perriwiinkle @ultrablackwidower @queen-turtle-boiii @hells-personal-bitch @areyoujokingx

Perm Tag List: @loudxxstar @iambuckyrogers @babebenhardy @ramimalekrp-roleplayerpage @mautand @rogertayolr @mothermercuryy @basics-andthesimplelife @caterinaborgia @discodeakyjazzyjoe @sheridans-dynamos @bethany-cc @onexlittlespark @idontbelievethiss @having-a-freddie-time @denimmay @bensrhapsody @manuosorioh @writing-in-hell @cupcakehardy @toms-irish-girl @a-kind-of-magik @thesecondlastjedi @dianamarie-has-a-blog @ezmina98 @finnbalortrash21 @frostedsugarcookiemint @yourealegendroger @popcrone818 @wronglanemendes @sj-thefan @borhapqueen92 @httpfandxms @haileylansley @arrozsocarrat @quirkydeaky @vanitysfairr @luvborhap @loveandbeloved29 @vousmemanqueez @hearts-to-the-sky @shewantsthe-youngamerican @sherlollydramoine @culturefiendtrashqueen @mamiigg