aborddelimpala

[thoughtsonhurtandcomfort]

Safe Haven, part 1

(this is the continuation of 12C!)

12C: Part 1 |  Part 2 |  Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 |  Part 6 |   Part 7 |   Part 8 |   Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 |

Tag List: @deluxewhump @whumpinggrounds @yet-another-heathen   @its-mysweetlittlesecret-blog  @killtheprotagonist @kixngiggles

Content Warnings:  immortal whumpee, lady whumpee, references to captivity and lab whump, malnutrition, dehydration, exhaustion, escape, caretaking, implied trauma, implied nudity

Author’s Notes: I really really hope you guys enjoy this one...I hope it’s as cathartic to read as it was to write. :)

I decided to start this next bit under a new title. The parts for the last one were getting excessive, and also this way even if my plans for the rest of it don’t work out, 12C is a complete thought.

As for the ‘escape plan’, I had more details of it in my mind but as I was writing it they felt...boring? So I cut the crap and kept it simple. Just trust that there was a plan and I’m just not a good enough writer to make it interesting. Besides, I wanted to get to the cute shit. :))

----

“You’re sure you know the plan?”

“Yes.”

“And...you’re sure you’re strong enough?”

“...I have to be.”

“That isn’t a yes.”

A huff lacking any real frustration. “Yes, Liv.”

“Okay. Two nights from now. Hang in there.”

----

The wheels of Liv’s cart are loud as they roll down the empty hallway, muffling out her sneakered footsteps. The sound also muffles her half-full water bottle falling from one of the shelves with a smack, and even if it weren’t for the cart, she’s got her headphones on, music turned up loud.

Liv comes to a stop at the door to the storage room. It’s unlocked, like always. She holds the door open with one hand and pushes her cart in halfway with the other. It’s then that she ‘notices’ her bottle down the hall, several yards away. Frustrated, she leaves the cart where it is and trudges to go pick it up.

When she returns, she only spends a couple of minutes in the storage room, restocking a few cleaning supplies so she won’t have to tomorrow. As she leaves the room and continues down the hall, she gives no indication that her cart has suddenly become heavier.

She gets into the elevator and heads upstairs to finish her final tasks of the night. This includes disposing of the garbage and hazardous waste she’s gathered throughout the night, putting utensils in a machine to be sanitized, and dumping linens from a hamper down a chute into a laundry room.

“Curl up tight,” she whispers as she tips the hamper. There’s a soft thud as more than just sheets and towels slide down the chute.

Liv finishes putting her things away, puts the papers from her clipboard in a file folder outside her manager’s door, uses the bathroom, and finally clocks out and heads to the parking garage. Calm, collected, seemingly lost in her music.

Heart pounding. Thoughts racing. Hopeful and terrified.

Her old but beloved little car sits alone on this floor of the dimly lit concrete garage. She throws her things into the passenger side before sitting heavily with a sigh in the driver’s seat. After a moment she turns on the car and begins the winding path up towards the exit.

As she rounds a bend she slows down a little...and remains slow for several moments until she hears her back door open and shut and a rustling as someone lies across the seat and burrows under a waiting blanket. She picks up her speed again, rolling down her window so she can swipe her ID card to get out.

Liv drives into the dark of night. It’s just past two in the morning, the roads empty, the traffic lights in town all blinking yellow. From the back seat she can hear weak, muffled breaths. When she looks at her rearview mirror, she can just make out the bundled heap trembling by the light of street lamps.

She waits until she’s a couple miles beyond the facility’s property before speaking, her voice hoarse from how dry her throat is.

“You okay back there?”

“...not sure,” comes Emmeline’s answer, fear and exhaustion palpable in her voice. “Do you think they saw anything?”

“If we did everything right, no...but I guess we’ll find out.”

Liv puts on an air of confident nonchalance that is so far from how she feels, but it’s for Emmeline’s sake. The risks have become so much more than a slap on the wrist. If they’re caught Liv will be fired and almost certainly arrested for theft of company ‘property’. But Emmeline...not only will she have to go back there, but she’ll be kept under such tight lock and key that any second chance of escape would be impossible, and Liv would no longer be there to even try.

This was their one shot, and all Liv can do is try to keep her panic at bay and hope they didn’t screw it up.

And take care of Emmeline, she thinks, glancing again at the mirror.

The drive home takes its predictable twenty minutes, give or take a few. Liv pulls into her spot beside a nondescript brick apartment building and shuts off her car. She closes her eyes and gives herself a moment to breathe and pull her thoughts together.

It’s quiet from the back.

“Are you awake?”

“Mmhmm…”

That translates to barely.

“Not much further...then you can rest…”

The weight of that statement is too much for Liv’s tired mind to truly process, but it still briefly occurs to her just how big it is, just what it means. For the first time in months, Emmeline can finally, truly rest.

She goes to the back seat and helps Emmeline to her feet. Emmeline remains resolutely wrapped from neck to ankles in the blanket. Despite it being the old, scratchy one Liv keeps in her car in case of emergency, to Emmeline it’s so much more than she’s been allowed.

Standing there barefoot in the parking lot, Emmeline slowly looks up at Liv, strands of limp, messy hair hanging around her face. The single light on the side of the building illuminates her drawn face and although she’s weak, malnourished, exhausted...there is a grateful reverence in her eyes that no matter what happens, Liv will never forget.

Liv swallows and pushes down the lump in her throat. “Come on,” she whispers, putting her arm around Emmeline’s blanket-clad shoulders and guiding her towards the door.

----

Her apartment is tidier than usual; Liv made sure of that, even though she’s pretty sure Emmeline won’t care. Considering where she has spent the last several months, a jail cell would seem like an upgrade. But if Liv is anything, she’s self-conscious.

Emmeline looks around, blinking blearily after having barely made it up the single flight of stairs. She’s swaying on her feet and Liv ushers her to sit on the couch before she passes out right there in the middle of the living room.

Liv is running on adrenaline and fumes at this point. It’s all too surreal, like an out of body experience. Even after long hours spent thinking and planning, she never expected to get this far. But now Emmeline is here, in her apartment, sitting on her couch. Existing outside of the lab, real and tangible.

And she needs you. Get it together.

“I know you probably want to sleep,” Liv begins. Emmeline is still looking around the room like she can’t quite believe it either. “But you haven’t eaten, so...I want to get something in you first, if that’s okay?”

“Okay,” Emmeline whispers.

Liv moves slowly to the kitchen and busies herself with preparing something light and easy: canned soup, crackers, a mug of herbal tea with honey. Like in the car, she allows herself a moment to take a few deep breaths and will her hands to stop shaking before she picks up the plastic tray and carries the food back into the living room.

Emmeline hasn’t moved an inch, not even to relax back against the couch cushions. It isn’t quite what Liv expected...but then, what did she expect? For everything to be better the moment they got here? It isn’t all going to be okay overnight, she realizes. Give her time.

“Here…” Liv sets the tray on the coffee table and sits at the edge of the couch, leaving a few inches between them, not wanting to crowd Emmeline. “Um - chicken noodle soup. Saltines. Chamomile vanilla tea.”

Emmeline blinks slowly at the items before her. “I’m not dreaming. Right?”

“I hope not. Eating canned soup in my apartment isn’t a very exciting dream.”

A faint smile appears on Emmeline’s face. “To me it is…”

Liv holds the bowl of soup while Emmeline eats small spoonfuls of it and nibbles on crackers. She only eats about half before moving on to the tea, cupping the warm mug in her hands and humming with pleasure when she takes the first sip.

“Could I - “ Emmeline begins, but stops abruptly, ducking her head and taking another sip.

“Could you…?”

“Take a shower?” she asks almost inaudibly.

“Of course you can,” Liv answers automatically. “You can have whatever you need.”

Emmeline hesitates, still so frail and uncertain. “Just that is enough...thank you…”

Strengthened by her meal, Emmeline is able to make her own way to the bathroom. Beneath the blanket she is wearing a pair of nurse’s scrubs, stolen from the laundry room at the lab just in case a glimpse of her was caught on camera, though Liv meticulously designed their plan to avoid that. She sheds the clothes and Liv bundles them and the blanket into a plastic bag to discard tomorrow.

Emmeline disappears into the bathroom and a minute later the water comes on.

Liv is left sitting on the couch, finally alone with her fears and doubts.

I can’t believe I did that…

If we get caught we’re so fucked…

Does she even want to be here?

What the hell do I do now?

She grabs the tray of dishes and hurries to the kitchen, where she actually washes them instead of pushing it off to tomorrow, just to distract herself. When that task is done too soon, she goes to change into pajamas and find something for Emmeline to wear.

She’s unfolding and refolding the clothes for the third time when the water shuts off. Just as Liv is standing to bring her the clothes, the sound of the shower curtain moving aside is followed by a cry and a loud thud.

Liv darts to the bathroom, everything else forgotten. She enters without knocking, her heart in her throat.

Emmeline is sprawled on her side on the floor, grimacing. One leg is hooked over the edge of the tub and it quickly becomes apparent that she slipped.

Not attacked. Not passed out or dead. She just fell. It’s okay. It’s okay.

At the sound of Liv entering the room, she rolls onto her back with a groan, revealing a bruise on her hip that slowly starts to heal as soon as the pressure is removed from it.

“Ow…”

“Shit...I forgot to put the bath mat in,” Liv mutters, embarrassed. No wonder Emmeline slipped. She crouches beside her and offers her arms for Emmeline to hold onto.

“Not your fault,” Emmeline answers quietly as she slowly gets to her feet. “I got dizzy…”

The moment Emmeline is standing she sways into Liv, leaning heavily against her before her legs can give out again. Liv freezes, acutely aware of the pressure of Emmeline’s body draped against hers, soft and clean, so weary, so in need of comfort.

All of those evenings Liv spent watching her suffer, wishing she could hold her, touch her gently, stroke her hair...now she has the chance, not a camera or another soul in sight, and she can’t move, can barely think. Not when Emmeline has her head tucked against Liv’s shoulder, breathing soft breaths against her neck.

Liv reaches blindly to her side until she finds a towel hanging on a hook beside the shower. She puts enough space between them to wrap it around Emmeline’s shivering form but remains close enough to steady her. By now Emmeline looks like she might fall asleep where she stands.

“Sorry,” Emmeline whispers, her drooping gaze fixed on Liv’s shirt. “I got you wet…”

“Shh. Don’t worry about it,” Liv answers quietly. “Come on…”

She guides her the final few feet into the bedroom and helps her into soft cotton pajama pants and a t-shirt. Then she pulls back the covers - freshly washed sheets on a freshly made bed, another thing she made sure of - and motions for Emmeline to get in.

“A bed?” Emmeline breathes. She runs her fingers over the sheet with a look of wonder.

“Mmhmm,” Liv affirms, lips pressed together. She’s afraid if she opens her mouth to speak she might cry from the sudden well of emotion at finally being able to give this to Emmeline, this comfort and safety she so deserves.

Emmeline slowly lies down on the bed, letting out a long sigh of relief when her head comes to rest on the plush pillow. Liv pulls the covers over her and tucks them around her snugly. She barely resists planting a soft kiss to Emmeline’s damp hair. Barely.

“Goodnight,” she whispers.

Emmeline is already fast asleep.

[capricornus-rex]

Two Sides of the Coin (17)

Chapter 17: Deliverance | Jidné Sheedra x Cal Kestis

Summary: Hell-bent on exacting revenge and retrieving the Holocron, the dreaded Darth Vader is now on the hunt for the young Jedi Knight, Cal Kestis. Under the assumption that he still possessed the artifact, while fueled by the intrigue of the boy’s strength and skill with the Force, the dark lord hires the bounty hunter, Jidné Sheedra, to track him down and have him delivered alive. However, the task becomes a trial for young Jidné, as she faces a conflict that tests her beliefs of a scarred past she had hidden for so long.

Also in AO3

Tags: Fem OC, Jidné Sheedra, Force-Sensitive! Fem OC, Bounty Hunter! Fem OC, Jedi! Fem OC | Special tags: Sixth Sister! Fem OC, Inquisitor! Fem OC, Twi’lek Inquisitor, OC Twi’lek

Chapters: 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6 – 7 – 8 – 9 – 10 – 11 – 12 – 13 – 14 – 15 | Previous: Part 16 | Next: Part 18 | Masterlist

17 of ?

Jidné strolled to the meadow and settled herself by the bank of the waterfall’s pool, something about that spot calmed her and so she chose it as a meditation spot. She unclipped her saber from her belt, nestling it in the curve of her palm and then her other hand cradled the three strands of beads. The smooth, dainty baubles ran between her forefinger and thumb as her hand followed its length.

She clutched onto the longer strand, the chipping of the color at the edges were more visible when brought closer, the dust that never washed away reminded her of the Purge; the Jedi holds her saber with both hands with great care and devoutness.

“Master…” the air answered her call, a gust of cold wind blew the wisps of her fringe, it’s as though the wind cradled her face in its hands.

She urged herself to open her eyes, and slowly, she did just so.

Standing in front of her again is a vision of her late master, but this one is very much different than the last. A venerable air loomed around the figure of the vision, compared to the last one that felt stale, heavy, and hostile.

“You’re right, I’m may not be the Padawan you trained and hoped to be… but I’m the Padawan you left behind—along with the teachings you’ve given me all my life.”

The walking memory spoke nothing, instead, she smiled and walked closer. Nomara’s Force Ghost was just two paces shy from the line between water and land. She knelt in the same manner as her broken apprentice, now grown into a young woman and no longer a child, in Jidné’s eyes the appearance of Nomara’s ghost was so opaque that she almost seemed real.

“Master… If that was your way of testing me, then whatever the result I will accept—it just means I have a long way to go, but I know you’ll always be there to guide me… like you always have.”

Jidné wondered if her hand would feel soft, warm flesh. She was startled by the answer of her unspoken question when the Force Ghost’s hand nestled under her jaw. From that touch, her heart leaped wildly, skipping a beat one after the other; she couldn’t pinpoint if this was grief or joy—whichever it was, she perfectly knows that she’s been yearning this comforting touch from Master Anesh.

Tears streamed ceaselessly from her eyes, her breath shuddered as she tried to regain the rhythm of her breathing while savoring the feeling of Anesh’s touch—albeit only a vision. The Force Ghost never spoke a word, but the genuine, affirming smile didn’t disappear. The Jedi girl’s eyelids drooped, savoring the surreal yet warm caress of her master, she dared to hoist her own hand up to clutch back the hand… only to touch her own jaw.

Her eyes shot up and found the waterfall’s pool absent of any Force Ghost standing on the water as if it was the floor. Although, it felt like she’s had some kind of closure, and that was enough. Jidné mounted a Q’aval and she spurred the steed, galloping to an area of the forest where she and Cal have agreed to meet.

“Did I make you wait too long?” the girl beamed, dismounting the animal.

“Not really,”

The pair hiked through the forest, finding eroded structures such as a bridge over the river in the deeper part of the woods, hinting that this location must have connected to Diitana and its other villages before the overgrowth set in.

Jidné scaled the thick railing of the bridge and walked on its length like a tightrope as they walked. She slightly bobbed left and right, Cal held her one hand that’s closest to him as she continued to gently tread the bridge’s fence.

“Be careful or you’ll fall,”

“Would you catch me if I did?”

“Sure I will!”

Cal caught Jidné, holding her by the waist as she hopped down once she’s reached the end; her bead tassels faintly rattled and swung wildly after landing on the balls of her feet back onto the soil. The two were faced with a wide section of the woods, shaded by the great trees forming a large canopy over their heads—shielding them from the sun—and framed by the river snaking along the edge where the bridge stood.

At first glance, there was an eerie emptiness to it, which Cal found oddly serene and calming. He felt Jidné’s grip loosening around his fingers, he took it as a sign of caution; he takes notice of her irises carefully rolling from one side to the other, examining the breadth.

“Something wrong?”

“No, I…” she trailed off. “I thought I heard something. Probably an animal.”

The girl’s feet hesitated another step forward. Cal gently dragged her along and her legs were finally coaxed into moving. Jidné dismisses whatever it is that she felt as nothing—though her senses were still keen from earlier, the feeling that was left behind in her after that last encounter with Nomara’s Force Ghost is still fresh in her.

“What do you think was in here before?” the redhead wondered out loud.

Looking around, it seemed to be an open base until it was eventually abandoned for reasons unknown. Small structures and machines still stood, however, they’re already riddled with signs of negligence and weathering over time.

“Could’ve been a town outpost,” guessed Jidné. “Looks like one anyway.”

The two explored the desolate checkpoint, as well as ID-3 and BD-1 who filled their databanks with tons of scans around the place. Cal did more investigating rather than exploring it: picking up objects and using his Psychometry on them. He takes a small, tattered leather satchel leaning against one of the vapor towers and detects its Force Echo.

“This was place was an outpost all right, this was also a hotspot for wandering traders,”

“Until no one came here anymore,” Jidné finished.

“Wooo…” the probe droid lowed a sad yet spooked tone at Jidné’s sentence, to which she immediately consoled him that nothing’s going to hurt them in there.

On the northernmost point of the outpost was a path that may lead to the badlands, but the view comprised mostly path that connects the transitioning from desert to forest—and vice versa—as well as a view of the trenches that framed the road.

“Travelers who came from the direction of the badlands surely stopped here for rest and restocking supplies, until they reached Diitana,” the girl hypothesized.

“Well, that does explain some of the cluttered stuff. Do you think they were in a hurry to leave?”

“More like in a hurry to run,”

Cal shot her a look with a raised eyebrow, “From what?”

Both heads jerked to the empty space in front of them, their attention drawn by an incoherent roar in the distance followed by the rustling of the treetops and startled birds.

“Probably that,” blurted the girl.

“Come on, let’s mosey on other places where that thing won’t find us,”

It was most unusual for a pair of Jedi to take a stroll into the heart of the forest, though the fresh air that filled their lungs and the tranquility put their worries at bay. They came across another bank and rested there, refreshing their parched throats with the sweet, clear water.

“You know, you fit right in the crew,” Cal blurted out of nowhere.

The girl turned around and sat beside the redheaded Jedi, curious to know more with what he said.

“Oh?” she drew her legs up so she can rest her chin atop her knees. “You’d want me to tag along?”

“Why not? We can travel as a pair with our ships, I didn’t say we’d leave your freighter behind,”

Jidné smiled at the idea. She felt warm and fuzzy all of a sudden, then her mind began imagining what misadventures she, Cal, and the crew would bump into. The Mantis crew had a different flavor of fun in their mishaps, Jidné almost missed that feeling—it would’ve been nice to experience it all over again, this time, she won’t be alone in doing so.

“You’ll have more time to think about it later,” Cal leaned closer and planted a kiss on her forehead, the quick peck took her by surprise—the same way his kiss on her cheek did—and scrambled up to his feet, offering her his hand in the next second.

They decided to take on the path where the road connects the forest and badlands—a canyon pass, which they learned its moniker from the locals: the Red Wall. They stepped out of the green and yonder into the blood-orange trench. The roof of the trench was a gaping space where the sun managed to peek its rays through, as the two walls of rock split open to produce a wide, winding path.

As one would expect, the desert was barren and almost devoid of anything organic. The canyon was no stranger to that setting. The wind was beginning to pick up and dust was pricking the two youngsters’ faces so they shield themselves with the flaps of their cowl and poncho until the gust dies down. When it did, ID-3’s rather sensitive scanners were picking a signal, his tiny satellite dish spinning erratically on his head.

“What is it, ID?”

“BEEE-TRILL!!! CHIRP!”

“What?!”

Before Jidné could understand what ID-3 meant by “a lot of Imperial signals” the collective clicking sound of blaster rifles being cocked came from all directions, white-clad figures started materializing through the setting sand, but what alarmed the two young Jedi the most was the sound of a third saber being activated—followed by a throaty yet feminine chuckle.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Cal moaned.

The sand had finally cleared, and just like in Jidné’s memory, they were surrounded by Stormtroopers, led by a red female Twi’lek clad in a black ensemble with the bright white insignia of the Empire stamped on her gauntlets.

The Sixth Sister carried herself in a menacing yet graceful stride, emphasizing her height over the pair whom she perceived as mere children; her lightsaber—as crimson as her skin-glowed in her hand, while a smirk plays along the edge of her lips.

Cal ignited her saber upon sight of the new Inquisitor, readying himself in a defensive starting stance as he usually does, the smirk in the enemy’s lips grew. Due to his spiked alertness, he didn’t realize that Jidné hasn’t activated hers, instead, she stuck close against his back—quite reminiscent of her final scenario with Master Anesh against their clone troopers.

“Well, well,” the Inquisitor uttered in a singsong tune. Her eyes examined the boy from head to toe, her mouth finally stretched across her face to reveal a pearly white, fanged grin. “Look what we have here.”

“You’re new,” Cal blurted.

“And you must be Cal Kestis,” the Sixth Sister cooed. “Do me a favor and stand still while we cuff you up. Unless, you wanna do this the hard way.”

She peeked over Cal to find Jidné taking a sideways glance over her own shoulder.

“Well done, Jidné, just like Lord Vader asked—though a little overdue, if I may say so,”

Jidné’s eyebrows furrowed together until her forehead creased. Her heart raced so ceaselessly that her breathing couldn’t possibly keep up. Her brain sent out a string of sentences—almost causing a haywire—that when spoken, it’d be so fast-paced to comprehend, but the only thing that stuck in her head is Vader.

Cal’s mind as well ran endlessly and yet couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that the Sixth Sister had just said. His grip around the hilt shook and loosened, eyes wide with bewilderment and confusion as he slowly turns to the girl he thought was an ally.

“Ji-Jidné…? You?”

The Inquisitor read the room and chortled once.

“You never told him?” she then turned to Cal. “She was sent out to get you—because apparently you have something of great importance to Lord Vader.”

Cal heard the Twi’lek but didn’t listen, he kept his eyes on Jidné, desperately searching for the truth to come out of her mouth or see it in her eyes.

“You’re a bounty hunter? And you never told me?”

“I was going to hand you over…” she murmured only within his earshot, the pressure’s taking its toll on her that she doesn’t have the strength to make her voice louder. “Until I decided not to anymore.”

Before Cal could even process what she meant, the Twi’lek signaled the Stormtoopers—one of them produced binders for Cal, another shoved Jidné away for her to watch him be apprehended right in front of her, whilst the rest of them close in around with caution around the Jedi boy. By instinct, Cal fought back—particular the Stormtrooper who held the cuffs and the other who pushed Jidné away.

A single swing of his saber and the Sixth Sister brandished hers in the speed of lightning. The boy could feel the glow pulsing out of the red beam hovering at mere inches away from his only flawless cheek.

“I wouldn’t go for it if I were you, ginger,” the Twi’lek blurted.

Cal lowered his saber and switched it off, prompting the Stormtroopers to continue what they should be doing to him. The trooper confiscated the Jedi’s weapon and took his hands to his back and secured the metal binders around his wrists. Deep inside Jidné, she wanted to whip out her saber and take them all on—she even dared in her mind to face the Sixth Sister—but it would be doubly difficult for herself and Cal, should he ever choose to back her up.

“Take him away,” Sixth Sister aloofly waved her hand, gesturing at the troopers to put Cal into the transport shuttle at the end of the trench.

“No…!” Jidné exclaimed out of the blue.

The Inquisitor immediately reacted to it, “No?”

She made a back-and-forth glance between the cuffed boy and the girl standing there frozen, another sardonic laugh came out of her throat and she felt the need to tilt her head back for emphasis.

“Oooh, dear gods!” she sighed. “Honey, you can’t be serious?”

The two Jedi stood there in silence, eyes shifting between one another and then to the Sixth Sister, this urged her to elaborate. She strode towards Jidné and cupped her jaw, taking the Jedi girl by surprise; she tried to fight it, slightly thrashing her head to shake off the Inquisitor’s grasp but to no avail.

“Don’t tell me, sweetie, you’ve fallen for the boy?”

Upon asking the question, Cal skidded his boots against the soil, halting his pace to anticipate Jidné’s response.

The Inquisitor’s reply was a low growl rumbling within Jidné’s throat—it did very little to intimidate her, it rather amused her, and she took it as a yes. A pink line appeared on the girl’s jaw underneath the older humanoid’s long, polished fingernails. She licked her lips and grinned.

“That’s cute…” she clicked her tongue. “But sad.”

The Sixth Sister shoved Jidné’s face away from her hand, finally letting her go. Her suggestive, coy tone transformed into a firm and demanding one. She turned aroud as she followed behind the Stormtoopers pushing Cal into their vessel.

“Chart a course to Mustafar,” the Twi’lek stopped and turned around to find Jidné standing as still as a rock pillar. “Oh, you’re coming too, Jidné, sweetie. Can’t collect your bounty without getting it from the source, hmm?”

The whole time as they walked through the rest of the canyon pass, Jidné can’t find the strength to look at Cal in the eye and face him as this revelation unfurls at this very moment. Having no other choice, she pressed a button on her right-hand gauntlet which remotely activated and controlled the Scarab—even from afar. A distant rumble thundered, followed by the whirring of an engine’s throttle until the sound got closer and louder.

The Scarab zoomed past above their heads and—using her gauntlet remote—landed right beside the deep gray transport shuttle waiting for them at the end of the path. The exit ramp unfolded as soon as its landing gears touched the drought-plagued soil. She entered the safety of the Scarab, but she wasn’t exactly relieved—not the slightest bit.

“Beee, chirp trill?”

“I know, ID, and it’s all my fault!” she retorted, her anger mixing with her stress heavily affected her speaking tone. She marched to the cockpit and settled herself on the captain’s seat.

From where she sat, she watched the bevy of Stormtroopers herd Cal into the transport while the Twi’lek Inqusiitor was the last board the shuttle—before she did, she gave Jidné a passing glance when she turned in the direction of the Scarab’s windshield. Jidné watched steadily until the entry ramp sealed off the hole where all of the passengers of the transport went through.

“I should’ve told him earlier on,” she snarled, regretting the moment of telling the truth too late. She slapped her forehead. “Fucking idiot!”

Cal was relieved of the handcuffs when he was thrown into the holding area guarded by a pair of Stormtroopers on the other side of the door. During occasional peeks through the small rectangle on the door that served as a window, the soldiers found him surprisingly still and calm, one guessed that he was trying to sleep through the trip.

In truth, Cal has spaced out for he can’t pinpoint the emotions that’s gathered in his very being and all of them revolved around Jidné. He starts with his infatuation for her until, it would be violently interrupted by the loud confusion that birthed from the moment the Sixth Sister opened her mouth and exposed Jidné’s agenda.

“I was going to hand you over… until I decided not to.”

Her words had burned its way into his head. He afforded the luxury of meditating through the rest of the journey. When he closed his eyes, he felt a faint pang of Jidné’s energy mingling with his—as if in an attempt to resonate, but slowly dying down like candlelight on the verge of being extinguished. In the middle of his trance, he could sense a sheer amount of regret, a soul that was once loud with laughter and stories has become languid and dispirited—although, buried within those inhibitions was a tiny spark that seemed to be holding up. He followed that spark, but it kept eluding him; just when he thought his subconscious self has gained on that little speck of light, he was cut short of his meditation when the turbulence from the atmosphere rattled the vessel.

They have arrived.

[dontbethatshank]

First Kiss

Alby: Your first kiss is a hazy memory, but a sweet one. You were one of the first Gladers to enter the Glade, you came up with Alby, Newt, and all the others who were in the first group. It wasn’t long after that all the guys realzied you were the one and only girl, possibly the only girl to ever see the Glade. Months went by and only other boys came up, not that you minded. But Alby was very protective of you. He insisted you sleep in the Homestead and he insisted he sleep in the room next to you to ensure none of the other guys got any ideas. You agreed, begrudgingly, but you agreed. You remember one night, you woke up ina  cold sweat, a yelp leaving you mouth. You had been having nightmares the past few weeks but all you rememebr were these flashes of memories, of being trapepd in a glass box, of seeing these people clothed in white. But it was almsot like your memories were being wiped away clean everytime you woke up. Alby heard you and rushed in, thinking one of the guys got too tipsy at the bonfire or maybe the Greenie didn’t get the message, but instead all he saw was you, breathing hard and withsweat and tears streaming down your face. he crawled into your bed silently, stroked your hair, and pulled you into his chest, rocking you gently. You fisted his shirt and shuddered out a sigh, finally choking down your cries. In the dark you looked up at him, your mind hazy and your thoughts unclear. “Thank you,” you whispered, and as he was about to whisper back his response, you leaned up and kissed him, your chapped lips pushign against his smooth ones, tears rolling down inbetween your lips. He held you close and pulled back, rubbing your cheek softly. “You’re welcome,” he whispered, and kissed you again. The next morning you thought it was a dream, until you roleld over to find Alby, fast asleep behind you, his mouth open with snores coming out, his shirt riding up, and his arms flailed around him. It was a sweet kiss. A sad, sweet kiss that helped the nightmares subside for the night.

Gally: With Gally, your first kiss was your favorite, one you wish you could relive over again. You weren’t one of the very first Gladers, but you came up in the box within the first year, shocking everyone but easily sliding into their routines. The boys obviously grew found of you, but Gally grew the fondest as well as the closest to you. You remember you had asked him to come help you clean some clothes, since several of the boys in the gardens had slipped in a muddy patch and ruined their only clean clothes for the rest of the month. Half of them worse old ratty clothes, the others went shirtless and wore baggy old boxers. You had finished restocking with the medjacks and no one needed you, so you decided to go and clean the boys’ clothes in the small little pond in the deadheads in a bucket with some spare soap you found in the supply crates. Gally happily agreed and followed you, carrying some of the clothes while you carried the buckets and soap, along with some rope to tie to a couple trees to dry the clothes on. You dipped the muddy clothes in the pond and scrubbed off most of the dirt by hand, Gally following suit. You instructed him to do that with all the others, while you grabbed the bucket and put soem soap in it, going down a few feet to the ‘cleaner’ water of the pond to fill it up. Gally scrubbed the clothes, you dipped them in water and scrubbed them again, and then dipped them into the clean water once you rung them out to get out the remaining soap. You guys had almost finished all the clothes when Gally reached down and splashed youw ith the water. Gasping, now covered in cold water, you laughed and splashed him back. Mischeviously, eyeing the buckt of the ‘clean’ and now partially soapy water, Gally grabebd it as you ran off, knowing what was going to come. you both laughed wildly, runnign around the pond and the trees. Eventually Gally caught up to you and backed you against a big, thick tree, grinning as he went to pour the water on you. Trying to avoid getting even more wet as well as getting caught up int he moment, you grinend and leaned forward, kissing him. Gally stopped all movement, but after a few seconds he kissed back. It was soft and sweet, you both were a bit wet and your clothes were sticking to you, but it was a memorable moment. As you pulled back, Gally smiled widely. In return, you simply smirked, ashoved the bucket he was holding, causing all of the water to splash onto him. “You little... Y/N!” Gally yelled, as you ran off. He chased after you, laughing and grinning widely. It was a fun day, and after that, Gally never was as ‘harsh’ as everyone first found him to be. Now he enjoyed doing chores and helping you wash the dishes and the clothes - Alby was confused by it and Newt just didn’t want to know why. But you couldn’t complain.

Newt: You had been in the Glade for about 7 months now, the others had all been here for about 2 years. So you weren’t a stranger to the way of the Glade, nor were you a stranger to the overprotective nature of the boys. But tonight, it was a celebration - a bonfire. You had gotten a new Greenie andthe ritual of the Glade called for a bonfire, booze, fighting, food, and music. You normally just served the food, hung out with your friends, and watced Gally kick the klunk out of the Greenies while cheerign him on (yes, Gally had grown on you and you had forced yoruself to grow on him - it was a balanced enough friendship). But tonight, for no other reason than to just let loose, you decided to drink. And boy oh boy... did that get crazy fast. Three glasses of he ‘special Gally mix’ and you were gone. You were dancing with any and every guy in the Glade, you even tried to fight Gally - obviously loosing, but causing him to burst into laughter as you huffed out a “Well, that was uncalled for, and also very rude” as he pushed you otu of the circle, causing you to roll onto your stomach. You were the life of the bonfire, and no one minded - it just made everything more lively. But Newt, who stayed off to the side, became a bit worried. Alby told him to just let you be, you weren’t hurting anyone or anything, but Newt insisted you should go to bed. Standing up from his small place that was hidden behidn one of the logs, he began to walk over to you. “Y/N!” he called out from you, maybe two or three yards form you, on the other side of the fire. “Neww-wwt!” you sinsonged back, turning around and running right at him. He was afraid you weren’t going to stop, but instead, you jumped up, bracing yourself on hsi shoulders, and he hastily grabbed your legs. You laughed, loudly with your had thrown back. “Good catch!” you grinned, before leaning down, kissing him, your arms now looped around his neck. the entire Glade paused, everyone, and I mean quiet literally everyone, looked on. You puleld back, seeing a wide eyed Newt with a small smile on his face. you giggled and laid your head on his shoulder, letting out a small yawn. “I think...” ALby began, coming up behind Newt, placing a hand on his other shoulder,”that she is both drunk and about to pass out.. better tuck her in.” Newt nodded and hoisted you up, throwing you over his shoulder as you bursted into another fit of giggles. “Byyy-yeee guys,” you sing songed, waving at everyone. The Gladers just laughed, waving back at you as you were taken off to bed. You tried to avoid any alcohol after that, but all the guys tried to give it to you after that night. Drunk you was a bit... crazy.

Minho: Quickly, almost the week after you entered the Glade, you became a runner. When you came up in the box, surrounded by guys, you became terrified. You dashed away, running as far as you could. The boys began to laugh, but then Gally became fully aware; “She’s headed for the maze!” he screamed. Everyone ran after you, but you kept running,a nd running, and running. You traveled quickly, your legs going as fast as possibly, you jumped over anything in your path, agility being another definetely strong suit of yours. But, before you made your grand escape, one of the boys who had stayed near the barn to finish up a chore was able to jump out in front of you, wrapping hsi arms around you and fighting you to the ground. And again, you quickly overpowered him, getting up to run again, but Gally had gotten a hold of you, begging you to stop fighting. You screamed, begging for them not to hurt you, and eventually Alby forced them to put you down, doing his best to convine you that no one would hurt you. After that, ltos of teasign came, many friendships were built, and you became an automatic runner per the say of Alby. Afterwards, it’s history as they say. You became runner, you soon knew the entire outline of the Maze, and you were respected among the other runners. One day, while out running with Minho, you two were joking and talking, making small talk as you both ran. you cut off vines to leave a path for you both while Minho wrote down the directions in a small notepad. You both came to a halt, hearing a whirring noise to your left. Slowly you both looked to see a Griever, maybe three yards away, and it had spotted you too. you both took off in a mad dash, the Griever close behind. You back tracked and tried to go towards the Glade in hopes of out running it, but as you rounded a corner, there was a bit of rock that had fallen off of one of the walls. You let out a small screech as you stumbled over it, tearing up yoru knee and shin, making it harder to run. Minho looked behind the two of you before picking oyu up bridal style and runnng as fast as he could. “There!” you yelled out, pointing at a thick patch of vines. You squirmed out of his arms and quickly scrambled over to the wall. Pulling back some vines you shwoed him a small hollowed out space. He quickly pushed you in and then crammed himself into it wiht you, pulling the vines back. You both held your breath, waiting until the Griever whirred past, until you could no longer hear the clicks or the machine gears. Letting out a sigh of relief, you pulled back the vines slowly. You and Minho got out, looking around you, up the walls, down the run ways; everywhere. With a grin, you turned towards him. “Fuck yea, you shank!” you yelled. Grinning back, Minho high fived you, causing a loud smack. After a second of victorious grinning, you lunged forward, almost as an instinct, and cupped his cheeks, kissing him. It was hard, and passionate, and both of your hearts were racing from adrenaline. You pulled back after a mintue, Minho with a stupid, ditzy grin on his face. “Thank you,” you said,”for saving my life... I guess I owe you.” Without a moments hesitation Minho gave you a reply, “You can pay me back by kissing me like that again.” Sassy and quick on his feet; as per usual.