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[jetii]

Event Horizon

Chapter Thirty-One: The Weight of Command

Chapter WC: 9,771

Chapter Tags/Warnings: it's a battle chapter what can i say

A/N: Welcome to part two! Much angst, fluff, smut and clone shenanigans ahead. Sadly no Rex in this part, but absence makes the heart grow fonder (and more desperate) and all that.

Mind the time skip from chapter 30, we're about 3? months in the future now.

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Nadiem, 20 BBY

No matter how many battlefields you walk away from, no matter how many lives you save, no matter how much glory you win for the Republic, the weight of your vision still rests heavy upon your shoulders.

No matter how much you try to silence the echo of Rex’s voice calling you back or the memory of his blaster pressed against your chest, it still lingers, like an unseen shadow at the edge of your sight. You had chosen to turn away from the darkness in that moment, a decision you've made time and time again, but it's a choice you've wondered if you would continue to have the strength to make again.

After all, every Jedi is tested at some point, and each must choose whether to give into their anger or their fear. Every Jedi must conquer the temptation to reach for the power that comes from the Dark Side in order to embrace the Light. Every Jedi struggles to understand the will of the Force and the part they are meant to play.

But not every Jedi has seen their own death.

You know what awaits you in the dark, and the temptation is always there, a constant nagging voice in the back of your mind, a whisper on the wind, a promise of power, of strength, of safety. You've learned to ignore it, but you can't ignore the burden of the knowledge, the weight of the responsibility. You can't ignore the certainty that, eventually, you will be faced with a choice, and that choice will define who you are, who you were always meant to be.

It's a terrible thing, knowing that you will never be able to save everyone. But you haven't stopped trying anyway.

In the months since you've left Coruscant and Rex behind, the 419th has been inundated with missions, battles, skirmishes. It seems as if there's always another fight waiting around the corner, and you have a sneaking suspicion that the Council is hoping to distract you, or perhaps even exhaust you. But there's no denying that the galaxy is changing, and the threat of the Separatists is ever present.

It's easy to lose track of time, the days and weeks blending together into a blur of movement, a cycle of action and reaction. It's easy to lose track of yourself. 

And through it all, you've been training your men. Teaching them.

You've drilled them relentlessly, not just in standard combat, but in one very specific skill. Nearly every morning begins with sparring exercises, teaching them how to counter a lightsaber, resist Force-assisted strikes, and fight without relying on the idea that a Jedi would always be their protector. After all, not all Jedi are as noble as Obi-Wan. Not all Jedi will be there to save them.

Some might even have their backs turned.

The irony isn't lost on you.

You've also spent much of your time on the field, honing their skills, encouraging their growth, and learning their strengths and weaknesses. You've seen their potential, and you've worked tirelessly to bring it out, to shape it, mold it. You've pushed them to their limit, and they've surpassed every expectation, refusing to fall. Refusing to give up. 

And most importantly, refusing to let you go.

They follow your lead, no matter where you go. No matter what you do. No matter what the mission is, no matter the risks, no matter the danger. They're always by your side, and they always have your back. And it helps. 

The more time you spend with Booker and the men, the more at ease you feel, the less afraid, the less lonely. They've become your family, and their support is invaluable. 

Without them, you know you wouldn't have been able to make it this far. Without them, you'd be lost.

It's the only reason why you're here now.

The view from your perch on the lone tree among miles of open fields is beautiful, the rolling hills and valleys stretching out before you. The sky is a vibrant mix of blue and pink, the sun just beginning to rise. In the distance, you can see the outlines of a nearby town, sunlight warming the small hovels and cobblestone streets.

The wind is blowing softly, rustling the leaves above, and the smell of fresh rain hangs in the air, filling your lungs. It's peaceful, quiet, and you can't help but appreciate the calm. But you know better than most that the peace never lasts. It's a fleeting thing, a fragile illusion, and the war will soon find its way here. It always does.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" you murmur, not turning your gaze from the landscape. "I could sit here all day."

Snap lowers his binocs from his visor and looks down at you. He sways dangerously on the branch above as he shifts his weight before his hand comes down to steady himself. The kama attached to his belt, covered in gold swirls and lines that remind you of a sun's rays, flaps in the breeze. 

"Not the best spot for a nap, if I'm being honest," he quips, adjusting his position, the branch creaking ominously beneath him. A bird takes flight in alarm, and he sighs. "And if you ask me, the sun's a little too bright. Hard to get a good look at things."

"Careful, Snap. Sounds like Wise is rubbing off on you," you retort, shooting him a smirk. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were becoming a bit of a grouch."

"If that isn't the quacta calling the stifling slimy," he mutters, and the branch creaks again.

You snort and shake your head, shifting your attention to the horizon. The smoke is beginning to dissipate, and the first rays of sunlight are peeking over the trees.

"I happen to like the sunlight. It's...refreshing."

"You're only saying that because you didn't have to run drills for two hours this morning," he mutters. He sighs and reaches for the binocs, bringing them back up to his visor. "So what's the plan? Do we wait here until the droids show up or what?"

"Patience, Captain. Patience," you reply. He gives you a look that translates through the helmet, and you laugh again, raising a hand in surrender. "I'm kidding. Mostly."

He lets out a huff and returns his attention to the binocs, scanning the area. You've been camped out on this ridge for hours, waiting for the Separatists to arrive. The village has already been cleared out, and the town hall is wired with explosives. All that's left is for the droids to show up. Then, it's game time.

"We'll give them an hour," you say, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. The scent of grass and flowers fills your nose, and you exhale slowly, allowing the Force to flow through you, reaching out and stretching. You can feel the faintest whispers of the enemy, the echoes of their approach. "Then we'll make our move."

Snap grunts, and the branches above rustle as he adjusts his position. He's impatient, and you can't blame him. The wait is maddening, but you can't afford to jump the gun again.

The last time you rushed the Separatists, things didn't end well. There were heavy casualties, and the 419th lost a lot of men. It was a hard lesson, but it was an important lesson, and you've taken it to heart.

You will be patient. You will be smart. And most importantly, you will protect your men.

"Hey, General," Snap finally says, his voice low. "Can I ask you something?"

"Always," you reply, your eyes still closed, the Force guiding your senses. 

You can feel the presence of the 419th tucked in the rolling hills behind you, the soldiers spread out along the perimeter, watching, waiting. Elsewhere on the planet, Master Luminara and her Padawan are preparing their own forces for an attack. If all goes according to plan, the droid army will be trapped between the two forces, unable to retreat or escape.

"It's about the training."

Your mouth twists. You've been expecting this conversation for a while now, and you're almost impressed that he managed to hold out this long. You're certain that the others have been whispering amongst themselves, wondering if they should bring it up. But Snap has always been the brave sort, and it seems that bravery extends to speaking his mind.

"I'm surprised it took you so long," you quip, and his breath catches, the branch creaking again.

"I..." he trails off, and the hesitation is thick, almost tangible. He clears his throat and takes a deep breath. "The men are...we're worried. About you."

Your connection to the Force snaps shut, and you open your eyes, the image of the landscape blurring before settling. You take a moment to gather yourself, the familiar pang of guilt tugging at your heart.

"Is that so?" you reply, forcing the emotion from your voice.

"Well, yeah. Of course we are," he continues. He lowers the binocs and looks down at you. "Look, I'm not trying to question your methods or anything. And I'm sure the Council has a good reason for doing whatever they're doing, but...we just don't understand why. We're fighting droids. Blasters will do the job just fine."

You let out a heavy sigh and shake your head, leaning forward and resting your forearms on your knees.

"Because the battle doesn't end the moment the droids drop," you reply, keeping your voice low. The wind is still blowing, and the last thing you need is for your words to carry back down to the camp. "The war is just beginning, and we can't afford to take any chances."

"With all due respect, General, that doesn't answer the question," he replies, his tone firm. "I don't know what kind of enemies we're facing, but I know how to fight, and I know how to win. And the men are capable of handling whatever comes at us."

"I'm not disputing that," you assure him. You keep your gaze fixed on the horizon, and you can't help but think of Rex. He would like it here. And he would be just as eager to charge into battle as the rest of them. "But this isn't about winning or losing. It's about surviving."

Snap falls silent, and the breeze picks up, ruffling your robes and tossing your hair. You close your eyes, reaching out once more, and the faint presence of the Separatist forces grows stronger, a steady trickle of droids flowing toward the village.

"I care about all of you," you continue, your voice strained. "And if the enemy ever wields the Force against you, I want you to have a chance to survive. To have a chance to fight back. I want you to have the tools to protect yourselves."

You open your eyes and look up at him, his expression hidden behind the visor. His shoulders are tense, his body stiff, and his hands clench and unclench at his sides. You can feel the emotions roiling beneath the surface, a storm of confusion and frustration.

You know it's selfish. You know it's foolish. But you can't help it. The idea of losing any of the men is unbearable, and the thought of losing Rex, the idea of him being forced to face the darkness within you, the idea of him having to kill you...it's a pain you can't even begin to comprehend.

You've already lost so much, and the future is a constant, looming threat, a shadow in the dark, a whisper on the wind. It's a burden that's always there, always lurking, and you can't shake the feeling that the worst is yet to come.

You will do everything in your power to prevent the future you've seen from coming to pass. You will not allow yourself to fall. You will not allow yourself to hurt him. Not again.

"General," Snap says, his voice barely above a whisper. "You don't have to worry about that."

You can't help but huff a laugh, and you shake your head, your eyes stinging.

"But I do," you reply. You look away, unable to meet his gaze, and your fingers brush against the hilt of your lightsaber. "More than anything, I worry about that."

"General..."

Your comm beeps, and you raise a hand, cutting him off.

"We'll talk later," you promise. "For now, focus on the mission. Stay safe, and remember your orders. I want no heroics."

Snap hesitates for a moment, his hands flexing, and he sighs.

"Yes, sir."

You lift your vambrace up, and the holoimage of Master Luminara flickers to life. Her hands are clasped behind her back, her head tilted down, and her lips are pressed into a thin line. You immediately feel a sinking sensation in your gut.

"Master Luminara, I'm afraid you're a little early," you quip, trying to keep the anxiety from your voice. She doesn't respond, her expression unchanging, and you take a deep breath. "Okay, clearly, something's wrong. What is it?"

"We have a situation," she replies, her tone grim. She glances over her shoulder and turns back, a slight crease forming between her brows. "My scouts have reported movement to the north. A large group, and they appear to be heading in your direction."

You swallow and look up at Snap, who gives a nod. He's already moving, sliding from his perch and landing on the ground below. You watch as he hurries down the hill and back toward camp.

"How long until they arrive?" you ask.

"An hour, perhaps less," Luminara replies. Her frown deepens, and her hands clasp tighter. "But what troubles me is the makeup of their forces. They appear to be commando droids wielding blades. Cortosis blades."

"Fuck," you mutter, and her brow rises at the profanity. You sigh and shake your head. "Sorry, Master. It's just...I had a bad feeling about this."

Luminara lets out a small sigh and nods, the lines around her eyes softening.

"As did I," she murmurs, and she looks over her shoulder again before returning her attention to you. "The question is, what do we do now?"

You glance up at the sky, the first rays of sunlight piercing through the clouds.

"I'll take care of it," you say, looking back at her. Her expression shifts, concern etched on her face, and you raise a hand. "It's alright, Master. I have a plan."

"I do not doubt your capabilities," she replies, and the corners of her mouth curl upward. "However, I cannot help but notice that you tend to attract trouble."

"All the better for me to handle it," you say, smiling wryly. You're already moving, sliding down the hillside. "Don't wait for me. Attack on schedule."

"Very well," she says, and she reaches out, cutting the connection.

You pick up the pace, sprinting across the field, your boots kicking up the grass. The wind whips at your robes and sends your cloak billowing behind you. Your men are already moving, packing up the camp and waking the AT-TEs. Booker is barking orders, and the soldiers are falling into formation, their blasters at the ready.

"Booker!" you shout, and his helmet snaps up, his body tensing. He rushes over to meet you, his rifle in his hands, and the rest of the 419th follow suit. "I need a squad, and I need them now."

"What's going on?" he asks. He motions to the soldiers closest to him, and they break ranks, forming a loose semi-circle around the two of you. "Who am I shooting?"

"Cortosis blades," you reply. The color drains from his face, and he stiffens, his mouth falling open. "There's a detachment of commandos heading this way, and they're packing. Luminara’s scouts spotted them. We have less than an hour."

A ripple of tension passes through the men, a shift in stance, an adjustment of grips on rifles. No one speaks, but you don’t need the Force to feel their unease. Cortosis is rare, and the material is difficult to work with, fragile against most armor. But it can block a lightsaber, and it can kill a Jedi. It is, in effect, the greatest weapon a droid could wield against a Force-user.

Booker curses under his breath. "Great. That’s just great. So, what’s the play, General?"

You scan the gathered soldiers, your mind already calculating the odds, the risks, the potential. You could wait for the 419th. The droids won't arrive for at least an hour, and Luminara will likely send her own troops to assist, but it's not worth the risk. If the enemy is armed with cortosis, it means they're coming for you. And that puts everyone else in danger.

"I'm going ahead," you finally say, and Booker goes rigid. "You have your orders, and I trust you to carry them out."

"That's not gonna happen," he counters, and his grip on the rifle tightens, his jaw clenched. "You're not going out there alone. If the droids are really packing, you're gonna need backup."

Snap pushes his way through the group and steps forward, his shoulders squared.

"I'm coming with you," he declares. His voice is firm, resolute, and he lifts his chin. "And so are they."

He gestures to the rest of Maelstrom Company, and a chorus of agreements rings out, a show of support. Dash and Screwball take their place beside Snap, and the others follow, standing at attention.

"It's too dangerous," you argue, and Booker rolls his eyes, stepping closer.

"No, what's dangerous is sending a lone Jedi into battle against a group of commando droids wielding a rare metal known for cutting through Force shields and blocking lightsabers," he says, and his voice is quiet, his gaze hard. "So unless you're planning on telling me that all this training has been a waste of time, I suggest you let them help."

You look up at the soldiers, each wearing a fierce expression, a set jaw, a raised chin. They're not backing down, and neither is Booker. And the sight warms your heart as much as it fills you with dread.

"Well, I can't exactly argue with the entire company," you reply, and Snap lets out a snort. You shake your head and take a deep breath. "Fine. Snap, you’re with me. I need a fast, mobile team—no more than ten. We intercept before they reach the village. Cut them off in the ravine."

"Ravine’s tight quarters," Booker points out. "Could work in our favor… or trap you with them."

"I’m counting on the terrain to funnel them, limit their mobility. If they can’t swarm, we can pick them off in controlled strikes." You glance at your men, weighing each of them. "We’ll need explosives to destabilize the cliffs. Set the charges right, we could bring half of them down before they get close."

"Risky," Snap says with a low whistle.

"Only if we hesitate." You meet his gaze. "Do you trust me?"

He doesn’t waver, not for a second. "Always, sir."

That should reassure you. It should fill you with confidence. But it only serves to twist the knot in your stomach tighter. You nod anyway. "Then gear up. We move in five."

As the squad disperses to prepare, Booker lingers, his fingers tapping against his rifle. He doesn’t speak, his silence more meaningful than anything he could say. You can feel the concern radiating from him, the uncertainty, the worry.

"I know what you're thinking," you say, your voice low. His brow furrows, and his gaze shifts toward the men, watching as they grab their equipment. "But they have a choice. And I trust them."

"I'm not worried about the men, I'm worried about you," he replies, and he looks back at you, the lines around his eyes deepening. "You're taking a lot of chances lately. Don't think I haven't noticed."

"It's the only way we win," you retort. Your voice is harsh, your words more biting than you intend, and he flinches, his shoulders slumping. You let out a heavy sigh and place a hand on his arm, giving him a reassuring squeeze. "Trust me. I know what I'm doing."

"You better," he mutters, his hand coming up to cover yours. "If you get yourself killed, I'm gonna be really pissed. And don't think Rex won't be, either."

Your heart skips a beat at the mention of his name, and you pull your hand away, clearing your throat.

"You worry too much," you say, offering him a weak smile. "I'll be fine."

"Right," he replies. His expression softens, and his hand falls to his side. "Just...come back. All of you. Okay?"

"We will," you assure him. You turn and gesture for Snap to join you. "Come on, we're burning daylight."

The ravine is a jagged scar in the land, cutting deep through the valley, its steep cliffs lined with loose rock and vegetation. It's narrow, just wide enough for three men to traverse shoulder to shoulder, and the perfect place to bottleneck an enemy.

The plan is simple: let the droids enter, detonate the charges, and force the survivors into a close-quarters engagement. One they won’t walk away from.

You crouch behind a boulder at the ridge’s edge, peering down into the path below. The morning sun casts long shadows across the jagged rock walls, but it does little to ease the weight settling in your chest. You stretch your senses outward, brushing against the cold, mechanical signatures approaching from the north.

The droids are close.

Snap shifts beside you, his rifle braced against his shoulder. He's watching the ravine below, scanning the terrain, searching for any signs of movement. The others are waiting elsewhere out of sight, hidden in the shadows, ready to strike.

"I've got eyes on 'em," Snap murmurs. "Looks like... a full squad of commandos, maybe two. Moving in formation."

You exhale slowly, fingers curling around the hilts of your lightsabers. "Then we stick to the plan."

Screwball, perched on a ledge above, snorts.

"You say that like plans don’t go to hell the second we start shooting," he says, his voice barely audible through the comm. "We ready to light this thing up, or what?"

"Just hold your position," you reply. "Wait for my signal."

"Whatever you say, sir."

You glance back at him to see his posture is relaxed, his arms draped over his knees. The detonator is clutched loosely in his right hand, his thumb resting on the trigger. He seems calm, almost bored, and you can't help but envy his composure.

"Stay focused," you remind him, and he chuckles.

"Don't worry, General. I know how to handle myself."

You roll your eyes and turn back to the ravine. The droids march into view, moving with an unsettling precision. Unlike the standard B1s or even B2s, these commandos are sleek, built for agility. Their movements are eerily smooth, nearly silent, and in their hands are dual-bladed staffs made of a strange, dark metal.

Your pulse steadies. You can feel the moment hovering on the edge of action, that perfect, weightless second before a fight begins. The anticipation is always the worst, and the adrenaline is coursing through your veins, heightening your senses, sharpening your focus. Your heart is beating slow, your muscles coiled, ready to strike.

Then, with a wave of your hand, you give the signal.

The first blast rings out, echoing off the rock walls. It's followed by a second, a third, a fourth, the explosions rippling along the canyon walls in a cascade of rock and dust. The blast takes out the lead droids instantly, their metal forms crushed beneath tons of debris. The rest reel back, momentarily thrown into disarray.

"Go!"

Snap and the others move as one, blasters lighting up the smoke-filled canyon. You take a deep breath and ignite your blades, launching yourself over the ledge. You hit the ground hard, landing in the fray with a controlled burst of the Force, sending the nearest commando droid skidding backward.

Your lightsaber arcs through the air, slicing through the first droid, its body falling in two pieces. The second is already moving, its staff swinging down, and you move to block with your blade before remembering at the last moment that the cortosis will resist the plasma. You pivot, narrowly dodging the attack, and swing again, this time severing the droid's arm at the shoulder.

A bolt sizzles past you, slamming into the droid's chest, and it falls backward, collapsing to the ground. Another shot rings out, and the droid's head explodes, sending shrapnel flying. You duck, barely avoiding a piece of metal as it whizzes by.

Dash and Snap are beside you, their blasters trained on the remaining droids, their shots finding their targets with deadly accuracy. You spin, deflecting another bolt and bringing your blades down, carving a deep gash in the chest of a nearby droid. The commando falls back, its movements sluggish, and a second bolt pierces its head, causing it to fall limp.

A third and fourth droid approach, their blades swinging, and you deflect their attacks, pushing back against their onslaught. You're holding your own, but the enemy isn't faltering. The commandos regroup, adjusting, adapting. One of them moves with eerie precision, its blade slicing dangerously close to your ribs. You're forced to sidestep, throwing up a shield to block a second attack.

A warning flares in the Force.

You spin, deflecting a blaster bolt aimed at your head, and the commando is upon you, its blade sailing toward your left arm. The blade of Yaddle's lightsaber fizzles and dies as it connects with the metal, the shock nearly ripping the hilt from your hand. Your other lightsaber snaps up, cutting through the commando's arm, and the staff falls uselessly to the ground.

Your vision tunnels, your focus shifting, and the world slows to a standstill along with your heartbeat. You can hear the hum of your blade, the rasp of metal, the snap-hiss of Dash's blaster. The droids are closing in, and you're surrounded. A bolt grazes your thigh, and another glances off your shoulder. You're moving too slowly, and you can't block them all. You won't be able to keep up.

You can feel the stirrings of something whispering, calling out to you. It's there, just beyond the edge of your mind, a familiar, seductive power. You reach out, and it answers, filling you with a sense of strength, a sense of certainty. A sense of control.

It would be so easy.

So very, very easy.

You could crush the droids without a thought. You know you could. The Force is already singing, urging you forward, beckoning you, begging for release. Just a taste. Just a moment. That's all it would take. A snap of your fingers, a whisper on the wind, and the battle would be won. You could save the men, and no harm would come to them. Not if you did this. Not if you took matters into your own hands.

"General, look out!"

Snap pushes you out of the way, the butt of his rifle connecting with the side of a commando's head, sending it reeling. He ducks under the blade as you've seen him do a hundred times during training, bringing his rifle up and firing a single shot directly underneath the droid's chin. The commando goes still, its head jerking backwards before its body falls lifelessly to the ground.

He's panting, his helmet tilted, and his visor is locked onto you, his shoulders tense.

"You okay?" Snap asks, his voice tight, and you nod and swallow hard.

"Thanks."

"What the hell was that, sir? You stopped moving."

You shake your head and straighten, gripping your lightsabers tightly. Yaddle's blade hums to life again, and the hilt feels strangely cold, a chill creeping up your arm.

"Nothing," you reply. "Don't worry about it. Let's finish this."

"Copy that," he mutters. He lifts his blaster and fires, taking down a nearby commando, its head exploding in a shower of sparks. "Watch your six."

You glance to the side just in time to see a droid rushing toward you, its blade raised. You dodge, sidestepping and swinging your own blade, catching the staff as it sails past. The staff breaks in two, and both halves swipe toward you, striking your shoulder and knocking you back. The impact sends you staggering, your boots sliding on the loose dirt, and your feet slip from underneath you.

Dash is there before you can right yourself, stepping in front of you and ducking under the droid’s staff, his own vibroblade flashing in the sun. He slashes upward, severing the its arm at the elbow, and spins, his leg snapping out and catching the droid in the chest. It flies backward, crashing into the rock wall. Its body is mangled, the metal twisted and bent, and it crumples to the ground, unmoving.

Dash turns, his hand outstretched, and you can't help but smile.

“You’re still leaving your left side open,” you tease. You clasp his hand, and he pulls you to your feet, his helmet tilting to the side.

"What, that wasn't good?"

You can’t help but laugh before you wince, grabbing your injured shoulder. The blade failed to cut through your armor, but you can feel the bruise forming already.

"It was better," you concede.

Screwball lands on the ground behind you with a thud, his boots kicking up a cloud of dust. He raises his blaster, firing a series of shots, and a trio of droids collapse. They fall into a heap, and he lets out a whoop, spinning around and shooting another commando as it charges him.

"That's the last of 'em," he declares. He slings his rifle over his shoulder and gestures to the wreckage, a cocky tilt to his stance. "You should put me in charge of your training sessions, General. I could teach the men a thing or two."

You shake your head, still clutching your shoulder. "I'll consider it."

He lets out a bark of laughter and turns, surveying the destruction. You take a moment to catch your breath, the adrenaline starting to wear off, and your legs are shaking. You can feel the exhaustion settling in, the familiar ache spreading through your limbs, and the pain in your shoulder is worsening.

"That was easier than I expected," Screwball says. He nudges a nearby droid with his foot, his helmet tilting to the side. "Almost disappointingly easy."

Snap lets out a sigh. “Don’t jinx it, vod. We're not done yet."

The comm crackles, and a voice comes through, faint but distinct.

"Sir, this is Booker. We have a situation."

You and Snap share a look. Screwball snorts, and the captain shakes his head at him, pointing an accusatory finger. "Told you."

"Report," you say, tapping the commlink in your wrist gauntlet. "What's going on?"

“Our party guests never showed,” Booker answers grimly. "Looks like we got played."

"Shit," you breathe, and your gaze snaps up, scanning the area. The ravine is still, the morning sun casting long shadows across the rocky ground. Nothing stirs, and the only noise is the wind whistling through the narrow gap. But there's a heaviness in the air, an invisible presence, a cold sensation pressing down on your senses. “They could still be coming."

"I don't think so," Snap replies. His helmet tilts up, and he points to the sky, where a cloud of smoke is rising in the distance. "That's not a good sign."

The comm crackles, and a voice comes through. It's strained, distorted, and filled with static.

"—epeat, we—eing atta—"

"Luminara?" you ask, tapping the commlink. "Do you copy?"

"—eady?—an't—"

"Master, can you hear me?"

There's nothing but static, and you curse, tapping the link again. It's no use. The transmission has been cut off, and the heavy feeling in the air has only gotten worse. Your gaze shifts back to the sky, where the column of smoke is darkening, a thick cloud rising over the valley.

“Find a droid with its memory core intact,” you order, and the men scramble, searching the wreckage. "We need to know what we're up against."

You take a step forward, your gaze fixed on the smoke. The weight is almost unbearable, a pressure on your mind, an invisible fist squeezing. You can feel it trying to force you down, trying to make you bend. And it's only getting stronger.

“Booker," you murmur, your voice tight, and you can hear the unease in his response. "Tell me you're seeing this."

"I see it, General,” he answers. “Looks like it’s coming from the capitol. Whatever the hell this is, it's bad."

"Yeah, I got that," you reply, and the smoke continues to billow, a black plume against the blue sky. 

Your pulse is pounding, a lump in your throat. It's just like the visions. The smoke. The screaming. The bodies. It's all there. And it's happening right now.

"We need to get moving," you say. You turn and start walking, the men falling in behind you. Screwball props his foot on the chest of the droid he’s looming over and wrenches its head off, tossing it to Dash. "Now. Work fast. We need that data."

Snap catches up to you, his footsteps quick.

"Is everything okay, General?" he asks. He lowers his voice, glancing over his shoulder at the others. "You're not looking so hot."

"I'm fine," you snap, and he stiffens, his pace slowing. "Sorry. It's just...it's nothing."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure," you reply. "I'm not hurt."

"That's not what I'm talking about, and you know it," he counters. His voice is gentle, his tone cautious, and he matches your pace, his posture stiff. "You froze up out there. The last time I saw you like that, you…”

You turn away, avoiding his gaze. Snap is the only person who’s ever seen the extent of the ability you keep locked away, the only one to bear witness to the amount of destruction the blast of energy could cause. It was a mistake, a loss of control. He was the first person to see the true depth of the darkness in your heart. And you know he hasn’t forgotten.

"Don't worry," you mutter. You can feel the anger simmering in your chest, the frustration. "I have no intention of repeating that mistake."

He sighs. "It's not a mistake, it's just—"

"It is," you insist, turning back. Your eyes are stinging, and your hand curls into a fist, nails biting into the flesh of your palm. "It's not who I am. And it's not who I want to be."

He pauses, his shoulders slumping, and the silence between you is heavy. The wind blows, scattering the dust at your feet, and the smell of smoke fills your nose, the air thick with the scent of ash and burnt metal. You can't help but shudder, and you know Snap notices.

"It's just..." he says, and the words catch, his voice rough. "I've seen what that power can do. I've seen what you're capable of." He glances over his shoulder and looks back at you, his head tilted down, his voice dropping. "And if you're gonna go head-to-head with that thing, I want to make sure you're doing it on purpose."

"It's under control," you repeat. You take a deep breath, forcing your voice to remain even, your gaze focused. "I won't let it get the better of me."

"I trust you," he murmurs. He places a hand on your arm, his grip gentle, his fingers squeezing. "I trust you, but I also care about you, and I know how much you hate yourself for using that ability."

"Snap," you whisper, your heart aching. You don't deserve his concern. You don't deserve his kindness. But he gives it freely, and it only adds to the guilt twisting in your gut. "Please. I can't talk about this right now. We have a mission."

"Right," he agrees. He nods, his helmet bobbing, and his hand falls to his side. "Right. Sorry."

You give him a weak smile. "It's okay. We'll talk about it later."

"You always say that."

"Because we will," you assure him. "I promise."

The comm crackles, and Booker's voice rings out, cutting through the silence.

“General, just got word from Gree,” he says, and the knot in your stomach tightens. "They’re under heavy fire in the capitol."

You lift up your commlink, and the holoprojection of Booker flickers to life. He's pacing, his helmet tucked under his arm, and his expression is drawn, his jaw set.

"How heavy?"

"A full-on siege," he replies, stopping to turn toward you. He shakes his head, and the image stutters. "They've barricaded themselves in the central square. If we don't hurry, they won't last long."

You exhale slowly, steeling yourself. 

“Don't wait for us," you order. “Take the transports and get to the city now. Reinforce General Unduli and hold the line until we get there.”

Booker hesitates, his eyes searching yours. Then, with a nod, he replies, "Copy that, sir. See you soon."

The image flickers out, and you lower your arm, taking a deep breath. You stop walking and look over at the squad, where Screwball is holding the droid’s head out for Dash. The young trooper has jacked into the port on the back of its head, the other end tethered to his datapad. You can see the information scrolling across the screen, and you gesture for him to join you.

"Got something," he calls, and he jogs over, holding up the device. The data is streaming across the screen, and the map is flashing. You can see the layout of the town and the location of the main square. "Looks like they're moving on the capitol. They rerouted all of their forces."

"They knew we were waiting for them in the village," Snap mutters. He steps beside you, his helmet tilted. "But why still send a commando unit out here instead of using them for the siege?"

"That's a damn good question," Screwball agrees. "Maybe they figured the droids could handle us?"

"Unlikely," you reply, and the map is flashing again. It zooms in, revealing the path the droids took, a route directly toward the capitol. "They were leading us away from the main battle. Leading me away."

"Leading you away?" Dash asks. "Why would they want to do that? Seems like a waste of resources."

“Dooku had a shiny new toy he wanted to show off," Screwball suggests. He grins, his visor glinting. "Maybe he wants to play with our Jedi."

"He's playing with fire," you mutter. Your gaze shifts to the sky, where the smoke is rising, the plume dark and ominous. "We're going to have to move on foot. Send everything you have to Booker and Gree. Tell them what we're facing."

Dash nods, tapping the console before he looks up at the sky.

"You think Master Unduli and the 41st are gonna be okay?" he asks, his voice quiet, and his helmet turns, his visor gleaming in the light. "I mean, they're gonna have their hands full without us, right?"

You let out a slow breath and try to calm your mind. It's harder than usual. These past few months of constant battles have worn down your shields. You're struggling to find the stillness within, and your many attempts to draw the darkness into the light and transform it have been futile. Yaddle's teachings feel more and more like a memory of a bygone era, a dream half-remembered, a shadow of what could have been. A shadow of who you could have been.

You know that Luminara will succeed. She has a lifetime of training and discipline behind her, a lifetime of experience and wisdom. She's a beacon of light in the Force, a pillar of strength. She's everything you're not, and she's everything you should have been. And she has an entire legion of men to help her.

So, yes. You know she will succeed.

The question is at what cost.

"They’ll be fine," you say, the lie burning on your tongue. Dash relaxes slightly, and his helmet tilts back toward the sky, the clouds drifting lazily overhead. "Let's get moving. We've got a job to do."

By the time you reach the capitol, the city is already burning. Flames are consuming buildings, smoke billowing from shattered windows and crumbling walls. The defensive wall has been breached, and droid tanks are rolling through the streets, their guns firing incessantly into buildings with seemingly no pattern.

It's chaos.

You've fought for the Republic long and hard. You've bled for the Republic. And you've lost men. Too many.

But this...this is unlike anything you've seen.

Screwball's hand finds the back of your head, pushing you down behind the cover of the rubble as a squadron of vulture droids pass overhead, the whine of their engines echoing off the broken buildings. Two Republic fighters painted with the green of the 41st are in pursuit, but the droids are too fast, and they evade the blasts easily. They soar over the rooftops, and the fighters are forced to break off, looping around to regroup.

You take a deep breath and lean back against the broken concrete, the rough texture digging into your spine. The smell of ash is in the air, burning stone, metal, and something worse. Something organic.

“General Unduli’s position is—” Static erupts from your comm, and all ten of the troopers turn their heads toward you. “—east sector—cut off—heavy casualties—”

A sudden explosion racks the building beside you, and you throw up a shield to deflect the debris. Shards of rock and chunks of metal rain down around you, and a nearby AT-TE topples, its treads snapping as it crashes into the street.

You grit your teeth and close your eyes, reaching out through the Force, trying to locate Luminara and Barriss. You can sense them, but the connection is faint. Their signatures are distant, their presence shrouded by the fog of the battle.

"We need to get to the main square," you tell the men. "We're getting cut off. Luminara and Barriss are in danger."

"That's great and all, but how the hell are we gonna do that?" Screwball asks, his tone clipped. He glances over his shoulder and ducks down as another explosion rocks the city, sending a shower of dust and ash falling from the sky. "If those things spot us, we're toast."

He's right. The entire avenue leading toward General Unduli’s last known position is blocked by swaths of droids. Separatist reinforcements are pouring in faster than Republic forces can push them back. You can hear the clones fighting street by street, alley by alley, but the tide is shifting, and the droids are advancing.

You take a deep breath and center yourself, focusing on the task athand. It's not just about getting to Luminara and Barriss. There are civilians trapped in the crossfire. Families. Children. Innocents. You have a duty to protect them. And that means you need to find a way through.

Dash moves closer, crouching beside you. "I have an idea."

"Let's hear it."

"Well," he says, his voice low, and his visor gleams. "It's probably a really stupid idea, but I think it could work."

"Oh, boy," Screwball mutters.

"What's your plan?"

He points toward a series of cables dangling from the side of a nearby building, and your eyes narrow. "You're not serious."

He huffs. "Got a better idea?"

You glance at the cables again and shake your head. "Fine. But we need to make this quick."

"Then follow my lead."

Before you can argue, Dash launches himself out of cover and begins sprinting toward the opposite side of the street. You curse and follow after him, the rest of the squad close behind. The droids are still occupied with the AT-TEs, their backs turned, and the distraction buys you a precious moment of time.

Scaling the side of the building is a challenge, but you're able to use the Force to pull yourself up. You reach the roof just as the droids notice your squad, their heads swiveling toward the men. The first bolt is already flying, and it narrowly misses Dash's helmet, slamming into the building behind him.

You and the squad race across the roof, dodging shots and leaping across the gaps between the buildings. Below, the droids are scrambling, their cannons swiveling up toward you, and the sky is filled with a hail of fire. Blasts streak past you, and you're forced to throw up a shield, deflecting the incoming projectiles. One bolt skims past your arm, slicing through the cloth between your shoulder plate and rerebrace. You bite back a yelp and push forward, urging the men onward.

The gap ahead is wider than the others, the distance too great to jump. Instead, you leap onto the edge and push off, using the Force to propel yourself across.

"Two at a time, I'll catch you!" you shout.

"Copy that," Dash calls. He slows and turns to the nearest clone, shoving him forward. "You're up, Screwball."

"Why do I have to go first?" Screwball grumbles. He glances over the edge of the building, his shoulders sagging. "Shit."

"Because you're the slowest," Dash replies, his tone matter-of-fact. "And I want to make sure we get there in time."

Screwball mutters something under his breath, and he braces himself, preparing for the jump. Another trooper, Fuse, nudges him as he lines up his jump, and the two of them leap across the gap. You catch them with a wave of the Force, carrying them safely to the other side.

The rest of the squad follows, leaping across in pairs. Each time, you catch them and lower them gently to the ground. 

It's exhausting work, and you're beginning to feel the strain of the battle. The constant fighting, the constant running, the constant use of the Force has left you drained. Your limbs are heavy, your lungs aching, and your injuries are only getting worse. You can barely lift the arm that was wounded by the cortosis blade, and your shoulder is throbbing, the pain pulsing in time with your heartbeat. You're running on pure adrenaline and willpower. It's the only thing keeping you going.

Your arm wavers as Snap and another trooper make the leap, and you let out a gasp as they drop. They fall halfway across, their bodies crashing into the side of the building. You reach out, catching them and pulling them up, but the effort leaves you breathless. The men scramble over the edge and roll onto the roof, their armor scratched and dented.

"That was a hell of a catch, sir," Snap wheezes. He pushes himself to his feet and gives the other man a hand up. "Thanks."

"Anytime," you mutter. You stand, taking a moment to steady yourself, and the world tilts. You lean heavily against Fuse, his arm steadying you. "I think we're almost there."

"You're wounded, sir," he says. His fingers brush the raw burn bisecting your arm, and you wince, hissing between your teeth. "I've got bacta gel, let me patch it up."

"It can wait," you insist, shaking your head. You straighten and take a deep breath, willing yourself to stay upright. "We're close. We can't afford to stop."

He grumbles, but you don't give him a chance to argue, and you lead the squad toward the edge of the building. The main square is in view, the plaza choked with smoke, the buildings surrounding it ablaze. The battle has spilled into the streets, a sea of white and green and gold fighting against an army of metal. It's chaos.

"We're nearly there," you call, and the men pick up the pace.

"General, I'm detecting movement," Snap calls. "Incoming!"

A Republic fighter streaks overhead, and the droids shift their attention, their guns tracking the ship. A blast connects, and the fighter spins out of control, the engines sputtering. The ship crashes into the rooftop on the opposite side of the square, sending debris and shrapnel raining down into the fray.

“We drop in hard and fast. Shock and break their ranks before they realize what’s happening," you command. You pause, taking a moment to steel yourself, and your fingers curl around the hilt of Yaddle's lightsaber. The hilt is warm beneath your touch, a comfort. "Be careful. There are civilians in the area."

"Yes, sir," the men chorus.

"Good. Move out!"

With that, the squad launches themselves off the building, their armored bodies plummeting toward the ground. The troopers land hard, their boots pounding against the ground, and they move quickly, falling into formation. They spread out, weapons raised, and begin firing on the droids.

You land a moment later, and you're moving before the shock wears off. Your lightsabers swing wide, cutting through a pair of droids, and the troopers press forward, their guns blazing. They fight like a well-oiled machine, each man knowing exactly where the other is, where he needs to be. They work in perfect synchronization, and the droids are overwhelmed, their ranks crumbling.

But the fighting isn't easy. The droids are relentless, and the clones are outnumbered. Fuse takes a hit to the chest and goes down, a scorch mark seared across his breastplate. Screwball dives, grabbing his arm and dragging him out of the line of fire, and a pair of troopers flank him, their blasters lighting up the air.

"Push through!" you order. You deflect a bolt aimed at a clone's head, your lightsaber flashing, and the droid explodes. "We need to reach General Unduli!"

Snap falls into step beside you, his rifle pressed against his shoulder. He fires a series of shots, taking down three droids in quick succession.

"She's holed up in the capitol building," he says. He points to a tower looming over the square, its walls crumbling, its windows shattered. A few troopers peek out of the upper windows every few seconds to fire on the droids before retreating, only to reappear a moment later. "That's where they're holding out."

You can sense Luminara's presence now. Her signature is unmistakable, her power rippling through the Force. She's still standing, but you can sense the pain radiating from her. It's like a physical weight pressing down on you, and it only adds to your exhaustion.

"We need to hurry," you say.

A pair of vulture droids scream overhead, their wings folding back as they dive toward the ground. A clone on a nearby rooftop fires a rocket, and the projectile connects, sending the fighter spiraling out of control.

You watch in horror as it spirals toward where Dash and several other troopers are engaged with a group of droids. The fighter crashes into the ground, and a wall of smoke and flame erupts, sending men and droids alike flying.

"Dash!" you shout. "Snap, find him! Go!"

"Yes, sir!"

Snap launches himself toward the crash site, his blaster held high. He ducks and rolls, firing a shot that blows apart a droid's chest, and he's up again, sprinting into the smoke. The rest of the men follow, and you force yourself to turn away toward the capitol building, where a line of droids has formed, blocking the entrance.

The battle rages around you, a blur of noise and fire and smoke. You can't tell the droids apart from the clones anymore. You just keep pushing, tears stinging your eyes as you slash and cut and slice. The droids fall around you, and you don't stop. You're not sure you even breath until you're inside the capitol building, the doors slamming shut behind you.

"Master," a voice says, and you turn to see Barriss, her expression drawn. Her robes are stained with blood, her head covering torn. "Thank the Force."

"Are you alright?" you ask, and she nods, her lips pressing together. "Where's Luminara?"

"She's resting," Barriss replies. She gestures for you to follow, and she leads you deeper into the building. "We were forced to retreat after our forces were pushed back. There's only a handful of our squad left."

You follow her up the stairs and into the main chamber. It's a functional room, plain and unadorned, a testament to Nadiem’s agricultural roots. Two troopers are positioned at the entrance, and a third is tending to a wounded comrade, wrapping bandages around his arm. Luminara is leaning on a pillar, her hand clutching her side and watching the scene. She straightens as you enter, her expression softening.

"You took your time," she teases, her smile faint. She looks weary, her eyes heavy, and there's a bruise blooming along her jaw. "I was beginning to wonder if you'd forgotten about us."

"Ah, well. You know me, always fashionably late," you reply. You return her smile and move toward her, your gaze shifting to her side. "How badly are you hurt?"

"Just a scratch," she says. She moves her hand, and you can see a deep gash in her side, the edges singed. But the bleeding has stopped, and the wound isn't as bad as it could be. "Barriss has handled the worst of it."

"Good work," you praise, and Barriss flushes, ducking her head. "I'm sorry we were delayed. The situation with the commandos was worse than expected."

Luminara sighs. "I should have known. Dooku is always full of tricks."

"We're just glad you made it," Barriss says. Her gaze shifts, and her brow furrows. "Are you alright? You look...unwell."

You try to hide your grimace at the question. It's one you've heard enough of today, and you feel a flash of irritation, though it's not directed at Barriss.

"I'm fine," you lie.

The wound on your arm throbs, and the smell of blood and smoke is everywhere. You can't tell the difference between the two anymore. It's all just death. All just pain. And you can't take it anymore. Your body is shaking, and you want to collapse, to curl up in a corner and cry, but you can't.

There's a voice in the back of your head that whispers to you, reminding you that you have the power to end this, to save the clones. It would be so easy. Just a snap of your fingers. A flick of your wrist. You could have the whole thing over in a matter of minutes.

You bite your cheek, tasting blood, and you squeeze your eyes shut. It's tempting. So, so tempting. But you know what will happen if you give in. The darkness will consume you. And what happened here on Nadiem will pale in comparison to what will happen elsewhere. To what you will become.

No.

You can't.

You won't.

But, Maker, you want to.

"It's been a hell of a day," you offer when the silence has dragged too long. You try to keep your voice light, but the words come out strained. "I'll be fine once I get a chance to sit down."

Luminara's eyes narrow.

"General!"

You whip around, your head snapping toward the entrance. Booker is standing in the doorway, his helmet tucked under his arm. He's out of breath, his hair disheveled, his uniform covered in dirt and soot. But he's alive. He's alive.

And he's smiling.

"You're not gonna believe this," he pants. "But they're retreating."

"What?" you gasp.

"I know," he says. He grins, and the rest of the men begin pouring in behind him. "Looks like they ran out of tricks. The reinforcements are pulling out."

The wave of relief that crashes over you is staggering, drowning out the pain and fatigue and worry. Your legs threaten to buckle, and you have to grab the wall for support, the stone rough beneath your fingers.

Booker pushes past the rest of the men and grabs you, his arms wrapping around your waist and lifting you off the ground. He spins you around, and the motion only adds to the dizziness.

"Put me down," you laugh. He obliges, setting you back on your feet, and you lean heavily against him, your eyes falling shut. "Kriff. I didn't think we'd make it."

He huffs. "Don't be so dramatic."

Your head lolls, and he steadies you, his hands on your shoulders. You force your eyes open, blinking away the black spots that swim in your vision.

"Dash?" you ask. "Snap? Is everyone...?"

"We're all fine, sir," Booker replies. His tone is soft, reassuring, and he holds up a finger. "Well, Fuse is a bit banged up, but he'll pull through. Wise is already reading him the riot act about not taking cover sooner."

Your shoulders sag. "Thank the Force."

"General!"

Your head snaps toward the door, and Snap is striding across the room, a smile on his face. You break away from Booker and launch yourself toward him, and he catches you, his arms encircling you.

"Snap, are you okay? Are the others—"

"They're fine," he promises. His voice is warm, and his hands rub circles on your back, his touch gentle. "We're all okay."

You relax, melting into his embrace. The world is spinning, but it doesn't matter. He's safe. Everyone is safe.

And you're so, so tired.

Your knees give out, and Snap's arms tighten around you, holding you up. "General."

"M'okay," you murmur, your forehead resting against his chest plate. His heart is pounding, his body trembling. "I'm okay."

He lets out a shaky laugh. "You're not."

He's right. But it doesn't matter.

You've won. You're alive.

And you're still holding on.

taglist: @baddest-batchers @lolwey @chocolatewastelandtriumph @hobbititties @mere-bear

@thegreatpipster @tentakelspektakel @notslaybabes @aynavaano @floofyroro

@ayyyy-le-simp @mali-777 @schrodingersraven @megmegalodondon @dangraccoon

@heavenseed76 @dreamie411 @sukithebean @bimboshaggy @bunny7567

@lostqueenofegypt @9902sgirl @jedi-dreea @salaminus @heidnspeak

@ghostymarni @gottalovehistory @mrcaptainrex @burningnerdchild @yoitsjay

@callsign-denmark @julli-bee @moonychicky @captn-trex @feral-ferrule

@webslinger-holland @marchingviolist @cw80831 @chaicilatte @somewhere-on-kamino

@sensitive-shark @kashasenpai @kkdrawsdecently @isaidonyourknees @awkwardwookie

@sugarrush-blush @lunaastars @capricornrabies @champagnejaig @silly-starfish

[taegularities]

You know what? I will feel so empty without them. Discovered them in March 2022 (yes one of my biggest regret in my life). Since then i never once stop talking about them to my friend, i was harrassing her lmao giving her daily updates even if she doesn’t care. I once said that i only breath rnb but i can also say today that i breath bangtan.

Bangtan help me filled a missing piece in my love life? In some way, they were helping me to escape reality. Before knowing them i never once dated someone (still don’t) and to think that i have to face back reality, by confronting the mores of our society and by hoping to find someone who is gonna help me filled that gap, well, yes it hits hard. I am affraid of a lot of things regarding love and relationships in general. I don’t think i have issues nor that i am insecure. With years i started accepting to love myself but i still know that it isn’t enough. Because a part of me says otherwise. An ex friend of mine, once said to me that i was waiting for a partner to accept myself because what i needed was insurance. I feel that it is true. At the same time I might think that « the one » will never appeared to me if i don’t love myself enough. How can i love someone else if i am not even able to love myself? Men that i allowed in my life, played me or didn’t fit my standards. Am i wrong with that? Am i wrong for not giving them a chance to know me or to like me? The more i grow up the more i feel lonely in that society. I felt the lack of affection a lot before bangtan and now that they are gone, i am back to square one. I know that at some point of my life i will have to settle with someone and detached myself from them. For now i don’t have that someone and don’t have them until they are back. But more serioulsy this society pressure me a lot, makes it hard to be fully happy… Not me being so dramatic, i am so sorry. Wanted to vent a bit… tough day. Hope yours wasn’t too harsh tho <3

hi bby. i wanted to be in a headspace where i can answer this properly, but even now, i am at such a loss for words bc i so know what you mean. don't worry about joining 'late' – one idea this fandom has always agreed upon is that you find bangtan just when you're in need of them. i'm not sure how they do that or what the magic behind it is, but they always come into our lives when we need them the most.

and yeah, that's why all of this hurts so much, too! i remember crying my eyes out when last year's festa came out and they announced their hiatus. right now, i feel like it's not quite sinking in that in a few days, they'll all be leaving and be gone at the same time, and it's a harsh reality to cope with. but you know… i find comfort in the thought that they love us just as much (more even, lbr). time is going to pass for them as it will for us, and i promise you they'll be thinking of us every dang moment, so the love, at least, never fades. we'll try our best to be healthy and live our best lives and then come together when they do!! in the meantime, we have each other, so i hope everyone sticks around and holds each other's hand!!

i understand how scary love can be. discovering that people can be kind and so generous raised my standards, too – the boys really did. it's gotten so hard to find someone who fits those expectations, but yk… at some point, we will definitely need to detach ourselves from the idea that every man will be like them. we shouldn't settle for anything less, but we shouldn't reject everyone either who isn't just like them. that's what i've been going with.. the thought to never be able to settle is so freaking scary, but i promise you will!! one day, you'll find someone who fits you just perfectly, and you'll be happy, babe, i can tell you as much. and be as dramatic as you want to be, bc gawd, we're allowed to hurt! i just hope your days get better and that you feel okay as soon as possible. sending you all my love and the tightest hugs, axelle 🥺🤍

[imagine-knb]

This is ask was inspired by the gom + kagami x Fem reader gang bang. Can you do basically the same scenario except with team strky? (Gang bang with the college boys please)

"I don’t seem to have the money to pay you right now...” You trailed off, feeling the heat of a blush dust your cheeks. Pushing your arms together in a bashful way, one that made your chest pop, you looked up at him through your long lashes. “Is there any other way I could pay you?” 

Kasamatsu looked down at you—or rather, he looked down at your chest—his own blush adding color to his cheeks. A garbled noise came out of the back of his throat, the words seeming lost on his tongue. He glanced over in another direction, eyes begging for some assistance.

“Okay, stop.”

Imayoshi was frowning a little, hands on his hips as he tried to assess the situation. Beside him, Okamura lowered the video camera he had been looking through, the pink tint of his cheeks visible now that he wasn’t hiding behind it.

“What’s wrong now?” Imayoshi asked, questioning Kasamatsu’s hesitance.

He looked over to you before glancing back at Imayoshi, mumbled words pushing past his teeth.

“I don’t blame him,” you defended. “This is more than just a little awkward. A pizza man porno? Couldn’t you have come up with a better plot?”

There was a scoff from the side of the room and you glanced over in time to catch Miyaji pushing himself off the wall where he had been leaning. “It’s a classic,” he argued back, stepping closer to you. “He just doesn’t know what to do. Maybe he needs a demonstration.”

You hadn’t expected Miyaji to suddenly grab you closer, his hand venturing down to grope at your ass. The squeak you would’ve let out in response was swallowed up in a kiss, his tongue sneaking past your lips to snag a taste of you. Distracted by the kiss, you barely noticed his hands sneaking past the waistband to your shorts until he was pulling them off you.

“That’s the money shot,” Imayoshi commented with a smirk, gesturing for Okamura to continue filming.

Miyaji’s fingers pulled at your underwear, slipping them to the side to get a better look at your sex. His middle finger ran along your entrance, dipping in briefly to test the waters. Your breath hitched when he finally slid it fully into you, crooking his finger to rub against a sensitive bundle of nerves.

“You wanna try?” Miyaji directed the question over to Kasamatsu, who had stood back the entire time.

There was a heavy swallow before he came forward, fingers gingerly brushing against your chest. When he heard the soft moan of approval from you, nerves left him and he became a little more bolder. His hands squeezed your breasts, fingers pinching sensitive nipples.

“Higuchi, why don’t you get in there too,” Imayoshi directed, his breath half a pant as he watched what was going down.

The other male didn’t have to be told twice and it wasn’t long before you found yourself bent over with a hardening cock in front of your face. Higuchi prodded at your lips, letting you taste the precum on his skin. With a slow push, he entered your mouth and set a shallow pace that you would easily keep up with.

Your eyes rolled a bit, glancing all around the room. Out of the corner of your vision, you could see that Imayoshi was sauntering toward you, hands already working on unbuttoning his pants. Okamura, still off to the side, had begun palming at the front of his groin, also in need for much more stimulation than what he was getting.

The camera had been set to the side, its lens facing you, but it was long forgotten.

It had taken them some time to clean up the mess they’d made, muscles tired from the extra exertion that had just transpired. Just as the last bed sheet was being pulled taut and the final camera was being placed away for later reviewing, there was a knock at the door. You scrambled to answer it, getting there before any of the shirtless guys in your dorm room could swing open the door.

“Delivery,” the teenager outside said, holding up a box of what smelled like the most heavenly pizza on this planet.

It seemed like a lifetime ago that you’d actually ordered the pizza and now that it was actually here, your appetite was beginning to catch up to you. You heard your stomach grumble.

“Shit,” you grumbled, remembering that you’d left your wallet in your car. “I don’t have any cash on me. Do you accept anything else?”

Behind you, you could hear some of the guys quieting their snorting laughter at the ironic situation. The boy quirked a brow, shooting you an annoyed look.

“What the hell is this, a porno?” With an annoyed scoff, he turned around. “If you don’t have the money, don’t order a damn pizza.”

And then he walked away.

[thosewickedlovelies]

AND THEY WERE WALLMATES: Banana Bread (part 1)

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Rating: probably T for mature themes (implications of sexy times and violence). It will go up later ;)

Summary: You share an apartment wall with Javier Peña, but that doesn’t make it any easier to get to know him. You didn’t think your baking would be the catalyst (read: Javi is jealous that Connie gets all the extras).

Tags: Mention of blood; super vague description of wound care; alcohol; TW for Javi: you have FEELINGS bby

Word count: 2,791

A/N: I guess technically this starts at the beginning of season 1, but I don’t plan on referencing the events of the show, so imagine they’re working on things less intense than trying to catch Escobar. I found Javier really tricky to write for, so I hope this reads okay! I’m so excited about the future chapters I have outlined for this lol pls get hype.

Masterlist

---

You had only been living in your new place for about a month when you got new neighbors. You were glad for the company- the four-apartment building was fairly new, and didn’t feel very lived-in. You did your best to add some personal flair to your apartment, but it still had the effect of reminding you of your own newness to this place, your lack of any deep personal connections.

Your other neighbor didn’t exactly help with that. Javier Peña had lived here for awhile before you moved in, but that was all you knew about him; you didn’t speak much beyond your neighborly greetings and his insinuating smiles. He never hides his lingering glances, but nor does he make any other moves- you sense he’s a safe type, all bark and no bite (without consent). So you always amusedly but politely ignore the invitation implicit in your exchanges. They don’t seem to have a lot of depth anyway, as if he’s just trying for the sake of trying. Granted, he probably never has to do much more than that- you’re very aware of how attractive your neighbor is on the surface. You just prefer to feel a connection slightly deeper than surface level before going home with someone.

You learn more about him from Connie, who tells you that he works at the embassy with her husband, Steve. In “janitorial services.” You raise a bemused eyebrow at that, but respect your neighbors’ privacy and don’t ask further questions. You help Connie get a job at a hospital a few blocks away from the one you’re a nurse at and promise to help her practice Spanish.

The building feels more lively now, and you’re happy to have a confidant upstairs, especially one who’s more privy to the life of your enigmatic hall-mate. You don’t know if it’s the neighborly care you feel for your new friend or if there’s some other unconscious change, but you begin to keep an ear out for Javier. You do share an apartment wall, although you don’t glean much through it. Some standard kitchen rummaging, television noise, the occasional bedroom guest (whose enterprises you try not to listen to, but damn if the man doesn’t have a perfect voice for after-dark activities). The most noticeable thing about him is the odd hours he keeps: sometimes in tandem with Steve’s schedule and sometimes not, you can never predict when he’ll be in or out.

--

Little do you know, you’re not the only one paying attention. Javier has spent many an evening alone with only whiskey and the television for company, but now there are other things to stimulate his senses. The smell of your baking filtering through the wall, even lingering in the hallway the next morning. The sound of you singing to the radio while clattering about the kitchen. Sometimes he turns the tv down to listen and imagines there being no wall between your two homes. What would his life be like with someone to infuse that kind of sweetness and light into it?

He doesn’t mean you specifically, necessarily. If, once or twice, your face jumps to mind while he’s taking care of himself in bed, he thinks nothing of it. You’re his beautiful neighbor- it’s a fantasy begging to be played out.

But damn if he hasn’t been tempted to make it a reality. He gets to taste your baking sometimes when you leave extras with Connie, and one day she catches his brow creased in a frown, distracted halfway through a slice of walnut banana bread.

“Javi,” Connie repeats, trying to get his attention.

“Yeah.” Javier snaps out of it, looking up.

“You’ve been staring at that piece of banana bread for a full two minutes. Is it gonna do a trick?”

He decides to lean into it, see what Connie’s reaction might be. “Only if the trick is getting me out of my pants. I don’t know a man alive who could resist the shit she makes.” He scoops another forkful into his mouth to prove his point, letting the rich, nutty flavor remind him of other places. Homes. Real homes, made of people, not the solitary kind he lives in now.

She rolls her eyes at his crudeness, but agrees. “You’re right about that. I don’t know where she gets the energy to do this after hospital shifts.”

Javier hides his next thought with another forkful of bread and a noncommittal noise. Wonder if she’d have as much energy for it if she had a man to tire her out. It was automatic, a question he couldn’t help debating with himself. Surely no one who spent that much time in the kitchen could have energy to spare on…other pursuits.

Connie is regarding him shrewdly. He avoids her gaze, focusing on finishing his plate in large mouthfuls to avoid the questions he can feel brewing. But he’s not quick enough. “Has she always brought you extras too?” she asks. Too casually, idling with her fork.

“No,” Javier says dismissively, and it’s not quite a scoff. “She wasn’t here long before you showed up. We’re not as close as you two.” Understatement. Did he sound sour about the fact?

Before Connie can ask any more questions he rises from his seat. “Well, don’t let me keep you. Tell Steve what I said.” With a nod of farewell, he turns and strides out the door.

--

One night you’re awoken with a start from where you’d fallen asleep on the couch. Heart pounding, you sit up, listening intently. You’d never felt unsafe here, but you’re aware of the potential dangers. What had woken you?

You hear a swear from the hall, and your muscles relax as you recognize Javier’s low voice. There’s a beat of silence, then a scraping, clinking sound. He must have dropped his keys. But then he grunts, and concern sweeps over you. You’re a nurse- you recognize the sound of a man stifling his pain.

There are long delays before each new noise that indicates an action. The doorknob twists as he grunts again, but it’s a moment before the key turns in the lock. It seems to take an age for him to get through the door; his motions sound clumsy before he closes it. Safe in the privacy of his home, so he thinks, he lets out a longer sigh, the pain and exhaustion now obvious in the sound. But you can hear his fumbling through the wall, and you worry your lip between your teeth. It is your place to go see if he’s alright?

Finally you decide that it is. You’re his neighbor and a healthcare professional, and it is your professional opinion that he sounded in-pain enough to warrant a check-up. Plus, you heard him that way before he got inside, you reason. So it’s not as if you were just being snoopy through the wall.

Just in case, though, you grab some muffins you made earlier as a backup excuse (once again mentally thanking whoever left the cookbook in your apartment). 11:30 isn’t too late for a friendly drop-by, right?

You knock softly on his door. “Javier? It’s me.” Nervous energy taps in your fingers. You’re never even been on his side of the hallway before.

There’s a shuffling sound, and the door unlatches. A narrow gap opens, into which Javier plants himself, and you immediately zero in on where he keeps one leg wedged behind the door. He leans into the elbow propped against the doorjamb above his head, while his other hand already holds a glass of what you can smell is whiskey. He looks like he would rather be anywhere but here at this moment. “Neighbor,” he greets dryly, a neutral expression on his face.

“Uhh.” You’ve never been this close to him before, and his appearance catches you off-guard. His usually combed hair is messy, waves tangling over his forehead, and he’s sweaty, the open collar of his shirt damp and the exposed skin gleaming with moisture.

Javier raises an eyebrow expectantly, taking a sip of his drink. His glances down at the plate in your hands, and it prompts you to speak.

“Hi, Javier. Uh, sorry, I know it’s late, but I thought I’d bring you some of these-“ you lift the dish “-before they come with me to work tomorrow. They’re banana bread muffins.” Your voice falters with your confidence. Your eyes can’t help but flicker over his face and chest, taking in the smear of dust on his jaw, the redness of the knuckles wrapped around his glass. Mostly you’re trying not to look at the leg he’s definitely hiding, which you can tell he’s keeping his weight off of.

--

Javier stares at you, not buying it for a second. His lips purse for lack of a cigarette to wrap around. He shifts the weight he has on his arm- damn, his leg hurts- and wonders what could have possibly prompted you to start bringing him baked goods now of all moments. “Why aren’t you bring those to Connie’s?” Like usual.

“Um, well-“ He sees your gaze finally drop to the leg he’s kept out of view, and too late remembers who got Connie the hospital job.

“I heard you drop your keys, and it sounded like you were in pain,” you confess. “I’m a nurse, Javier. I can help if you need it.” Though apologetic, your tone is firm, face sincere as you offer him aid. Him, your grumpy neighbor who does nothing but leer at you.

Well, he isn’t that proud. Javier sighs, and opens the door further. Your eyes widen as you see the long slice in his pant leg, blood still damp around the wound beneath. “Shit, Javier, what happened? It doesn’t matter, shit, sit down.” You surge forward without waiting for permission, tucking yourself under the arm of his uninjured side and steering him toward a dining room chair. Where he’d been about to sit down down and tend to the cut himself. He supposes your apartments mirror each other, but your familiar reaction to the layout still surprises him.

“Whoa, hey, watch the whiskey,” he exclaims, flailing out the arm holding the glass, taken aback by your sudden manhandling. With one hand still occupied by the muffins, you direct him solely with an around his waist and your shoulder propped under his armpit. He couldn’t have resisted if he tried. If it weren’t for the fiery pain in his leg, your hold would have him feeling a very different kind of heat.

You give him a look that says you won’t be fooled by his blustering as you deposit him onto the chair and the plate on the table. “May I?” you ask, kneeling, hands hovering above his wound.

“Oh, now you’re asking permission?” He scoffs in disbelief but waves a hand in consent, leaning back in the seat.

You scoff right back at him. “Look, I see blood, I make the macho men sit, okay? Why didn’t you go to a hospital with this?”

Javier studies you as you carefully lift the denim to peer at the cut on his thigh. He takes a sip of whiskey to buy time (as well as dull the stinging pain). You’ve put on a robe over what looks like pajamas, but you seem too alert to have just dragged yourself from bed. And yet...was that a pillow mark on your cheek? Just there, arcing from your temple to your jaw…

“Javier?" you're looking up at him, a touch of confusion on your face.

“Did I wake you up?” he hears himself asking.

Her gaze drops again. “No,” you answer. “Well, yes, but I fell asleep on the couch, so it was a good thing.”

Ah, that explained the pillow mark.

Finally you stand. Your hands rest on your hips, heedless of your fingertips smudged red with his blood. “It doesn’t actually look too bad. I have enough supplies here to fix you up. You stay here, take off your pants if you can manage it by yourself, and I’ll be right back.” And with that you whisk away, robe swishing through his front door.

Javier remains where he is, a bit stunned by this turn of events, your sudden insertion into his life. He shakes his head. Maybe whiskey and blood loss shouldn’t go together. He tosses back the rest of his glass anyway in order to wrangle off his jeans.

By the time you return, he feels more composed, if rather uncomfortably vulnerable, sitting in just his boxers with a bloody slice across his thigh. He watches silently as you arrange various medical supplies on the table and pull up a chair across from him. You perch on the edge of it and look at him before doing anything else. “Are you gonna tell me how you got this?”

He’s not about to tell you it was a fluke accident during one of Carillo's interrogations. Somehow, while his back was turned, the guy got free and tried to escape, swinging a knife wildly as he hurled past Javier. The cut was long, ugly, but shallow. He’d live. He couldn’t say the same for the man who delivered it.

--

Javier considers his answer. “Can’t,” he says. “It’s better if you don’t know.” His gaze skitters away as he speaks.

He works for the government with a poker face like that? “Janitorial work, huh?” you say dryly. Sighing, you reach for the antiseptic. “At least tell me what made it. So I can treat it properly.” You look at him steadily.

Javier looks back for a long moment. “A knife,” he says at last.

You nod, and rip open a packet of gauze. He sucks air through his teeth as the antiseptic sears the wound clean, but otherwise doesn’t speak while you work. Which is fine. You notice he’s drained his glass, and you empathize. Frankly you wish you had a drink yourself right now.

Once you’ve cleaned the cut it’s easier to see the damage. Which is minimal, thankfully. Most of the blood was probably from him moving around when it happened. You explain what you’re doing as you seal the wound closed. Only when you’re almost finished does he speak.

“Why don’t you ever bake me anything?”

It’s so unexpected that your hands still. You stare at him in astonishment, waiting for him to elaborate.

“What I mean is…christ,” Javier mutters. The unflattering fluorescent light overhead highlights the dark circles under his eyes as he scrubs a hand over his face. “You always leave extras of stuff at Steve and Connie’s. Never here.” With me.

You resume your work on his thigh, surprised to feel a tinge of guilt. “You didn’t seem like a baked goods kind of guy,” you reply, hoping you don’t sound too defensive. It was true, after all. Though you never got a sense of threat from Javier, neither did he seem the type who would appreciate domestic gestures of friendship.

He didn’t look offended, however. I’ll try anything once,” he says, the ghost of a familiar smirk suggesting he’s feeling better. But then he leans forward, all traces of smirk vanishing. “And your lemon drizzle cake was incredible.” Javier looks at you seriously. His face is too close for your level of acquaintanceship, but you don’t move away.

Surprised, you assess him anew, wondering if you’re catching a glimpse of the man beneath all the masculine posturing. He’s nicer-looking this way, you muse. His face softer, brown eyes wide and sincere. You hide just how pleased you are at this insight (which you’re sure he has no idea he’s giving you) beyond allowing yourself a small smile.

“Well, maybe next time I’ll bring you some.”

--

Javier can’t quite find another quippy response, so he just gives a small nod, finding it hard to draw back even after you break his gaze. He tries not to fidget as you place a final strip of tape over the gauze bandage.

“There,” you declare, your work complete. “That should hold you for tonight.” You stand and gather up your supplies, giving him care instructions as you go. “Got it?” You seem much more relaxed than when you first arrived, confidence in your work squaring your shoulders. It’s…compelling, much more so than your usual reserved smiles in the hall.

“Yes ma’am.” Javier nods, not having heard a word. “…Thank you,” he adds, begrudgingly grateful.

You smile wryly at him. “Goodnight, Javier.”

You’ve nearly reached the door when he speaks again. “Javi.”

“Hm?” Pausing, you turn back to him.

He clears his throat. “You…you can call me Javi.”

Your smile is much warmer this time, brightening your eyes, and Javier feels his heart pound. “Goodnight, Javi.”

[jamaiskookie]

can i request a soft fluffy little drabble of fanboy yoongi and idol reader?

soundcloud rapper meets professional idol- myg

it’s #starrieselcaday !! where everyone posts their selfie in the hopes of their bias replying to them! alternatively, yoongi is a shy fanboy and you’re an idol with an undercover account where you stalk your fans. 

masterlist

listen

min yoongi is not a liar

HOWEVER, if you happen to ask him what kind of music he likes to listen to..... that’s a rare exception. 

he’ll probably reply by rattling off some of his favourite hip-hop rappers etc etc (emInEM!!! KANYE!! THE CLASSICS!!!!! beyonce)

which,, is not entirely a lie, okay?? he DOES listen to those artists! but his greatest guilty pleasure is this ... idolgirlgroup UGH he feels lame just thinking about it. 

not that it’s a pathetic thing, ya know? it’s just that he’s ~min yoongi~ jin literally told him once that he would be re-born as a rock and he AGREES WITH THAT. 

it’s not like he’s ashamed of saying he’s a fan of your group, it’s just that it’s not expected of the stone-cold soundcloud-rapper yoongi. 

but secretly, he winds down by watching your fancams, mass streaming your albums, screaming about your debut anniversary, the list goes on... the day in a stans life never ENDS GOD.

he literally screamed at his laptop and bursted into tears for a good 4 hours your last comeback.

he even got jimin and namjoon to end up liking his ult group!!!

seokjin refuses to ‘lower himself’ to their standards but everyone knows he secretly has all of your albums downloaded 

the group (lomls) called dreamcloud consists of five members- yoona, jisoo, lia, chae, and y/n. the fandom name is called starrie, even though nobody knows how that came about??

(his favourite single is their newest song called cloud 9)

three guesses to who’s his bias gO!!

if you guessed y/n congrats you’re CORRECT. other stans say that the bias they started with is NEVER the bias they have no but you’ve been yoongle’s ult bias since debut and it’ll forever be that way!!!

he’s been bias wrecked approx. 30 times but we don’t talk about that. 

like lia is THIS close to stealing the bias spot but you’ll always have such a special place in his heart :,-)

which is why when he sees the hashtag #starrieselcaday which was trended by you when you tweeted out a selca he POUNCES ON THE CHANCE TO POST A SELCA

on his secret fan account of course.

oh boy he really hopes nobody from uni is going to see this..,,, he’ll deal with it if the time comes. 

he definitely spends 30 minutes with jimin trying to figure out where the best lighting in the dorm is and then an additional 30 minutes just taking the damn picture. 

he ends up taking the photo in his black bucket hat (the e-boy one) with this slightly awkward half smile plastered on his face. 

he kinda hates it but it was also the best shot out of the 2000 he just took so that one it is!! (he’s also pretty tired of jimin telling him to ‘pOSE’)

he just posts it on his twitter with nothing but the #starrieselcaday hashtag. it’s the first time he’s participated in these so he’s kinda ~nervous~ but whaddya know!!

other starries are already hyping him up in his mentions!! [proud tears] gosh he loves this fandom so freaking much. he links jimin’s selca below his, telling his followers to go hype jimin’s picture too. 

it’s slightly concerning how big of a following yoongi has on his stan account. 

#STARRIESELCADAY! ✨@/liabby

replying to @/ynssuga

you look so cute suga!!!! ur bucket hat omg where did you get it send LINKS!!!

dreamcloud D-14!!! ����@/starriejoonn

replying to @/ynssuga

so THIS is what you spent an hour doing with jimin. owo looking good my friend! 😎

jade 💜ot5 @/vitaminchae

replying to @/ynssuga

omg you did #starrieselcaday !!! congrats on 50k by the way!! we’re all anticipating your album review (keysmashes) <3

awhhhh

how cute!

see? best fandom. 

honestly he wasn’t even aware that he hit 50 thousand on his stan account what the FRICK that’s insane!!

the only thing he does on this stupid account is give album reviews (which are quite useless at this point it’s always a 10/10) and scream about the comeback stages. 

occasionally he’ll go on to remind his fellow starries to drink water and take breaks from streaming- because contrary to popular belief he can be soft. 

☁️STREAM #CLOUD9 ☁️@/yoonsoohearteu

replying to @/ynssuga

hOOOOOOOTTTT!! woohoo!! why didn’t you tell us you were attractive irl?? 👀 ru single bby? 👉👈

yoongi snorts reading that comment, replying to tell @/yoonsoohearteu that he’s far from attractive and is unfortunately, single. it’s all y/n’s fault, he jokes in his reply. dreamcloud has raised his standards too much. 

y/n ✅@/dreamcloudy/n_official

replying to @/ynssuga

💞💞💞

[blink]

[bliiiink]

[?????????]

wut.

are his eyes deceiving him? WHAT? 

yoongi checks again, and sure enough, the little checkmark verifying your OFFICIAL twitter account lays next to your handle,.,, WHICH IS BELOW HIS POST. 

he takes a deep breath, trying to recall whatever breathing exercise his therapist taught him just last week. 

it doesn’t work. 

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH- “

💤☁️.

“y/n!“ yoona calls from the kitchen. in your large XL hoodie, you step in, humming a ‘hmm?’ to your leader. all the other girls are camped out in their rooms, preparing for the comeback coming soon. 

yoona’s scrolling on her phone with a confused look on her face. 

“why is hashtag starrie-selca-day trending? did you tweet something or was it chae?“ she asks, and you hide a slight smile. 

“oh yeah,“ you reply. “i tweeted my selca this morning. you guys can tweet out yours too.“ 

yoona raises her eyebrow. “okay,” she asks. “just be careful.” you blink. 

“be careful... of?“ 

“make sure the agency doesn’t find out about your secret account you use to stalk the starries.“ you sputter, spitting out a random excuse. 

“you’re too obvious these days, y/n,“ yoona says, not unkindly. “i figured that your comment wasn’t intentional... was it on that guy suga’s page? anyways, your official account didn’t reply to any other fan’s selcas, so maybe you should comment on some other fans twitter accounts too.“ 

huh?

what on earth is she talking about- OH NO. 

you scramble to take your phone out, immediately clicking into your twitter notifications. 

you groan when you see ‘y/nsuga’ is already trending. you should’ve double checked which account you were on before commenting, for god’s sakes!

this is amateur stuff, you scold yourself. how could you forget?

like yoona said, you begin commenting on other selcas, so it doesn’t look like you’re singling just one fan out. 

(except you kind of already did that.)

yoona stifles a laugh. “so,” she says. “we’re not going to talk about how you commented three heart emojis on this guy’s selca on your secret account... right?” 

your cheeks heat up. “please don’t tell the other girls.” you plead. jisoo unnie would never let you live this down. 

it’s not your fault some of your fans are. like, really cute, okay? 

this guy- ‘suga’. well, that’s the name you’ve been calling him in your head- since it’s the alias he goes by on twitter. 

he was one of the first fan accounts opened on twitter- just when you debuted! he posts these detailed and insightful reviews every time you have new music, and he’s always been such a loyal fan!

(plus, it’s super fun seeing him shut down your haters!! he always comes up with the most awesome comebacks)

((your personal favourite is ‘y/n could single handedly step on you with the heel of her five inch stilettos while she continues to do the choreography perfectly. shut your bitchass mouth up’))

so is it a crime to check up on a devoted fan’s twitter page every once in a while... on your secret twitter account??

he still hasn’t replied to your comment, which you’re slightly down about. he’s just busy, you reason with yourself. it’s not like you can expect his world to revolve around you, you scold. 

yoona nonchalantly waves her hand. “i already screenshotted the evidence though, so that’s going in my y/n blackmail folder.” 

you let out a multitude of complaints, noises that mostly consist of various versions of ‘fuck you uwu’ 

at least it was yoona who found out first. she’s the most gentle in the group... even though she has blackmail folders for each of the members. 

you reassure yourself by telling yourself that she’d never actually use the folders for real blackmail purposes.... probably. 

looking down at your phone, you frown. 

cute boy suga still hasn’t replied. 

you don’t know it, but the only reason why is because he’s still screaming. 

“AHHHHLHFH*HDFGLHHHHH?&$5FLIQJARSODFILJQWOI?!!!?!?!!”

[fbfh]

“forever” paxton hall-yoshida x reader

genre: fluffy romance + mutual pining (not too slowburn tho lol)

word count: 3.4k

au: none?? jock x theatre nerd ig

pairing: Paxton x broadway baby!reader 

requested: yes !! i hope u like it uwu

warnings: one hell one motherfucking and i think that’s it for swearing?? um brief self deprecating/talking bad abt urself from paxton (bby boy needs a self love boost), reader and paxton are home alone together for a little while but nothing bad happens, uh,,, i think that’s it

summary: when Eleanor can’t run lines with you, she sends over a very attractive, mutually pining substitute.

reccomended songs: “Seventeen” - Tuck everlasting OBC, “The Kiss” -The Princess Diaries score

a/n: i’m p sure i kept the reader p gender neutral but there’s implied slightly long hair, and you play the lead (a girl named winnie) in ur schools production of tuck everlasting but like it’s theatre so anyone can play anyone lol,, this took so got dam long bc i’m fucking s o f t for jock x artist and it just sorta happened lol aLsO,, not super thoroughly edited so there might be a typo or two?? im tired lol

requests r open <3

You had only ever seen two athletes present during rehearsals. Once when Madeline (who at the time was playing Penny in your production of Hairspray) was dating a guy from the soccer team. The other was when the star of the basketball team had come in to give your choreographer pointers for the basketball scenes during High School Musical. 

Until now.

You had run onstage part of the way through “Live Like This”, which wasn’t out of the ordinary since so much progress had been made on the costumes. You were still tying the ribbon on your pinafore as you jumped into the song, but when your eyes met a face in the usually empty auditorium, you faltered. You almost sang the wrong verse, but recovered quickly, continuing with the blocking. What felt like a moment later, the number was almost done and you were nearing the end of your counterpoint with Mae Tuck - played by Eleanor, of course. Who could be better for the part? You held out the last note, trying to stay in character despite all the distractions in the back of your mind. You had to talk to Eleanor when the director called for 10; she’d started telling you how Devi was being weird recently. Also, what the Hadestown was Paxton Hall-Yoshida doing chilling in the auditorium? You shoved all that away, focusing on staying in character until the director called for a break. 

‘I want to go to the fair. I want to go so badly! I just need a change, need to get out of this house for a little while. I never do anything, so this can’t be asking for too much, right?’ 

You projected all that into your everything - face, voice, mannerisms, energy.

“Hold!” 

Everyone froze.

The director wrote a few things on his paper, sighed, and underlined something several times. 

“Okay, good job! I need to revise some of the blocking, then we’ll do notes, so take ten.” Your sudden nerves had definitely made you pitchy, you knew that would be one of your notes for sure. 

A chorus of “Thank you ten”s erupted, and you immediately ran to Eleanor, telling the others good job as you passed. 

You leaned in and started speaking to her, quietly.

“Okay you need to finish telling me about Devi, and that other news you’re being so cryptic about! Also, what’s up with Fierro over there?” you nodded towards Paxton hoping he wouldn’t see, and you noticed Fab is sitting near him. You realized they’re probably waiting for Eleanor and/or Devi. That must be it, he’s been hanging out with them lately, right? Eleanor gasped.

“You’re right! Paxton is such a Fierro!”

You cringed inwardly a little bit as her voice carried through the auditorium, mixing with the others. Your eyes darted over to him for a fraction of a second. Oh god. He was looking at you. Or in your general direction at least. Lena, the costumer, walked around the set gingerly, following you around and getting you out of your dress incredibly carefully as you and Eleanor walked off stage. 

“No! Well, yes- but no. What’s he doing here? Jocks never come here during rehearsals. I saw Fab too, are you guys and Devi getting dinner or something?” You said, entering the auditorium, and stepping out of the dress. You grabbed sweatpants and a silky, floral kimono jacket from your bag to throw over your leotard and tights. She waved back at Fab before sitting down in the front. You both grabbed your fans and dramatically flicked them open in sync. Your wrists fluttered, cooling both of you off.  A knowing, and slightly mischievous, look came on her face. 

“Devi and Fab and I are. Paxton must be here for something… else.” she shrugged, nodding towards Paxton. You looked over again. He was staring at you. You did a double take and tried to hold back your smile. 

“Wh- I do not know to what you are referring.” 

“To what I am referring is the blush on his cheeks.”

You barely held back a nervous, bubbling laugh.

“He is not blushing! Why would he be blushing!”

“I don’t know,” She shrugged, “Just like how I don’t know that he’s been loitering in the halls outside the music room during your last three solo music rehearsals.”

You struggled for an answer. Before you could form one, you were interrupted.

“Okay, okay what is the best Lin Manuel Miranda musical? Because Kathryn thinks it’s Hamilton-” 

“Duh!”

“-But I think it’s In the Heights! It’s an underrated jewel!” Jonah interjected, still wearing his Jesse Tuck hat. 

You considered for a moment.

“I mean, they’re too different to compare. In the Heights has the same energy as Rent - showcasing what goes on in ordinary people’s lives, and how love ties us all together,” he nodded in agreement, “But Hamilton is on a way larger scale, almost Les Mis meets Fun Home vibes. But in terms of personal preference…” Eleanor scoffed at your answer, and Jonah went back to debate further with Kathryn.

“Anyway,” you turned back to Eleanor to ask her what the hell she meant by Paxton Hall-Yoshida was blushing. But before you could-

“Eleanor, we need you to try on your blue dress again,” Lena was already pulling her away, “I had the empire waist in the right place but half the pins fell out, and it’s just...” And she was whisked away before you could finish the thought. You just had time to help Holly get out her wig pins and drink some lemon water before notes. Eleanor still wasn’t back, so you made sure to write down hers for her. It was pretty standard; be quiet backstage, go over your lines, don’t touch props that aren’t yours, don’t eat in costume, and a couple blocking changes you made note of. After your end of rehearsal warm downs and huddle, everyone left relatively quickly. You ducked into the bathroom to freshen up a little. Sometimes it was hard coming down from such intense energy after rehearsal. You mentally ran through your to do list. You needed to get some more tea, write that essay when you got home, go over your notes- You gasped, cutting off your own train of thought. You ran out of the bathroom to look for Eleanor, still clutching her notes in hand. 

~

Your voice still echoed in Paxton’s ears. He wished he had a whole album of you singing. Your voice made him want to ruin his spotify algorithm by listening to nothing else. You had looked at him a couple times, and his heart had almost stopped. He didn’t know eye contact could be so intense. It’s probably just cause you’re like, the only person in the audience. Where else is she supposed to look? He deflated a little. He heard his name and looked over to you and Eleanor talking together. Hopefully it was about him. Hopefully it was good. He checked his phone, trying to look busy. When he glanced up to see if you were looking, you were gone. He started to look around for you when he saw Eleanor waving at Fab, and sure enough, you were next to her. What he didn’t expect was you dropping your dress to the ground. Time slowed down (and his heart sped up) as you stretched a little, and pulled out sweatpants from your bag.

Wow.

 You had on what looked like a bathing suit on underneath, and a few other people had done the same, but he knew that image would be in his memory, probably forever. His heart was beating in his ears and he knew he must be blushing.

“You okay, Paxton?” Fab asked, a seat or two away. Oh god, he didn’t want people asking why he blushed every time he looked at you! He muttered something about needing to make a call and headed for the doors. Don’t look back at her, don’t look back at her… His eyes involuntarily darted in your direction right before he left. You had on a flowy translucent jacket, your hair thrown back supermodel style as you fanned yourself to cool down. He needed to cool down too. Maybe a cold shower, a really cold shower.

~

You managed to find Eleanor just before she left. Two girls were with her, you had seen Fab once, and you’d heard a lot about Devi, but had never been introduced. 

You gave Eleanor her notes, and she hugged you.

“You’re a lifesaver!” 

“Of course, I-”

“Uh, who’s this?” you looked over, and the shorter girl - Devi, based on what you’d heard about her -  was giving you a weird look. You introduced yourself. 

“Nice to meet you. How do you know Eleanor?” said the taller girl - definitely Fab.

“Oh,” you smiled, “she’s my almost mother in law. And my arch rival,” you counted on your fingers, “my sister, my niece, my lover, my husband, and…” you trailed off, trying to think of the other dynamics your characters had had in past shows.

“Your co-conspirator.” 

“Right,” you laughed. Devi and Fab looked at you two.

“We’re in the musical together.” you clarified. You were about to part ways when you called to Eleanor, “Hey, we’re still on for running lines tomorrow night?” 

“Uh… Sounds good!” she walked away quickly, speaking to Devi and Fab in hushed tones. Something was definitely up. That was typical Eleanor Scheming behavior. 

~

That night, you almost couldn’t sleep. This wasn’t the normal post rehearsal can’t sleep. In fact, Tuck Everlasting was the last thing on your mind as you readjusted your pillows and snuggled into your duvet. You stared at the neon blue stars projected and swirling on your ceiling. You sighed. Again. Your brain was a 24/7 livestream of Paxton Hall-Yoshida to relax/study to. You saw him again, his face in the dimly lit auditorium, Adonis in a sea of faded seats. If you hadn’t been sure before, you knew now that red was definitely his color. You rolled onto your side. Your heart picked up speed as a thought crossed your mind. You could almost see Paxton now, kneeling next to you, his fingertips brushing your cheek. The piano underscore to “Seventeen” ran through your mind. You could imagine him saying “Wait with me, we could share the world…” so vividly it almost hurt. He leaned in, and… 

You let out a loud sigh and rolled over again. Your heart was fully saturated. That’s more than enough pining for tonight. 

~

“Paxton!” 

He was a little surprised when Eleanor just walked up to him at lunch the next day. Most people were too intimidated to approach him out of the blue. 

“I have a plan.”

“Uh, I don’t know what you-”

“Cut the crap, I know you like her.” 

His face blanched. Well, yeah of course he did. Who wouldn’t? He was going to ask Eleanor if there was something he could do to win you over, just not here, not now. Not where everyone could watch and jeer and rib him for it. Just like they were doing now. 

“Woah, dude, who is it?” Trent asked. He fumbled for words. He couldn’t believe this was happening. He hadn’t kept his crush a secret because he was embarrased of you, he’d kept it a secret because his dumbass friends wouldn’t get you. Hell, he barely got you. You were so deep, and emotive, and artistic... 

“Bro, if you like her as much as it seems like you do,” Trent continued, “you gotta win her over.” He was a little shocked at the agreement murmuring through his group of friends. He didn’t know how to respond. Trent turned to Eleanor.

“What’s the plan, drama mama?”

“First of all,” she said, an almost humorously dangerous look on her face, “never call me that again. Second,” she shoved some papers into Paxton’s hands, “meet me in the music room immediately after school.” She started back for her table. Trent looked back over to Paxton. 

“You gotta do it, dude. We’ll cover for you at swim.” 

The rest of his friends agreed. He was pleasantly surprised at how supportive they were being. 

“Yeah, I guess... we’ve got a plan.”

~

The next day went by pretty smoothly. No rehearsal was scheduled since they were finishing construction for some of the sets, but everyone was instructed to do a couple read throughs of the script, focusing on scenes they’re still forgetting, to make sure everyone’s off book. You stopped by 7 Eleven to get a blue slurpee (for homework) and a couple coconut waters (for run throughs). You texted Eleanor on your way to the slurpee machine. 

okay so do you like the mango coconut water or the pineapple one?? It’s the mango one right?? i always forget lmao

sent at 4:16 pm

btw I don’t have that much homework so you can probs come by around 5:30 if you’re ready by then

sent at 4:16 pm

Bae Tuck

OMFG!! I totally forgot about running lines tonight, I can’t make it! :( but I’ll send someone over to help you out. :)

sent at 4:17 pm

You squinted at your screen. That was weird. Eleanor never used colon parentheses smilies. Like, ever. She always used emojis, and usually way more than two per text. 

yeah np, are u good? ♡

sent at 4:17 pm

Bae Tuck

Yes :)

sent at 4:18 pm

Bae Tuck

Also get the passionfruit one 🥥🍠 👀

sent at 4:18

that’s,,, el that’s a sweet potato,,

sent at 4:19 pm

Bae Tuck

Close enough 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️

sent at 4:19pm

...Okay? That was definitely weird. You shook it off and headed for the counter to pay. You stopped half way there, and turned back to swap the mango for passionfruit. 

Not long after you had finished your homework and tidied up your room a little, the doorbell rang. You exited the kitchen, drinks in hand, and opened the door. Your heart caught in your throat. Paxton Hall-Yoshida was standing outside. And you were pretty sure he looked nervous. You both just stood there for a second. No one breathed, no one spoke. 

“Uh, hi, do you want to…” you backed up, motioning for him to come inside. 

“Yeah, thanks,” he said, entering the doorway. Paxton motherfucking Hall-Yoshida was in your living room. You held out a hand to him.

“Coconut water?” he took the box, looked at the label, and smiled. 

“Yeah, thanks,” he said again, this time a faint, yet unmistakable note of joy in his voice. He took a sip. He smiled.

“Passionfruit’s my favorite.” You silently thanked Eleanor, who you knew must have planned all this. Most of the evening was a blur, and you thanked god your family wasn’t home right now. You went upstairs, texted Eleanor asking what the actual fuck, made some surprisingly comfortable small talk, then filled him in on how to run lines. 

“Do you think playing the soundtrack would help you… get into character?” he asked. 

“I would probably just end up singing the whole thing,” You laughed and tried to ignore the butterflies in your chest. The main scene you struggled with was before “Seventeen”. It was harder to get into Winnie’s head because you had no romantic feelings for Jonah, and you always just made each other laugh. You had started with a few easier scenes of Winnie and Jesse, like the fair, and the dialogue before “Top of the World”. 

“That was really good,” he said, and you felt the sincerity of his words. 

“Thanks…” you smiled and took a sip of coconut water, hoping you weren’t blushing too hard. 

“So what next?” he asked. 

“Probably the scene before ‘Seventeen’,” you said, giving him the page and scene number, “it’s one of the hardest ones for me. I guess I just can’t connect to Jonah the way Winnie does.” 

“Huh,” he said, skimming the page. When you looked up at him, he had something between a smile and a smirk playing at his lips. You made yourself look away before you got too distracted. You refused to think about the fact that you were sitting across from Paxton Hall-Yoshida on your bed, in your room, like you were… close with each other. His eyes skimmed the script, finding the dialogue. He glanced up at you and nodded, indicating he found his place. You began.

“I was so afraid you wouldn’t get away,” you said, jumping into character.

“I may be 102, but I can still outrun anyone,” a smile played at his lips. You smiled, then let your face fall.

“I’m so sorry, I-I tried to warn you-”

“No, no,” he interjected almost seamlessly, “It’s okay, it’s… refreshing having someone look after me who isn’t my mom.” His eyes flickered between your face and the page. You smiled with him for a second, then let distress cloud your face.

“Jesse… that man came by my house today. He heard the music box, he knows about you-”

“I know he knows…” 

You continued on with the scene and he trailed off when he came to the sheet music for the song Seventeen. You took in a breath to start the dialogue in the middle of the song, but before you could…

“Six years from now you will turn seventeen,

Turn seventeen,

The same age as me,

Six years from now,

Go to the spring,

Go to the spring and drink…”

He was singing to you. He was looking at you and singing to you. His eyes only flickered down to the page to confirm the lyrics. He was nervous, you could tell. But through his hesitance, the emotion in his voice was sincere. Your heart was beating faster. You didn’t even notice your pulse was ringing in your ears, you were too focused on Paxton. 

“I'll wait for you till you turn seventeen,

Turn seventeen,

The same age as me,

Six years from now,

Go to the spring,

Go to the spring and drink…” Your hand rose to cover your mouth. He hesitated, and you remembered your dialogue.

“Uh, wh-what if I… forget where the spring is?” He reached out and took your free hand in his. Your pulse was off the charts. “I’ll go get you some water. Just… remember to keep it somewhere safe. Somewhere no one will find it.” You got the feeling he wasn’t just talking about the water. You knew he had never really been in a serious relationship before, and it clicked suddenly - if he learned an entire song to duet with you, just how much he must like you. You exhaled a breathy laugh, unsure how to process the sudden euphoria you felt. 

“You make the world sound so… exciting. I just want to drink the water right now!”

“Uh, no. You have to wait.” you both smiled, anticipating the upcoming joke.

“Why?” you ask, “What’s the difference?” You held your breath as he tried not to laugh through the delivery of the punchline. 

“Believe me,” he rubbed his thumb over your hand, “there’s a difference.” You both chuckled, and he continued singing. You were so focused on him, so… touched that he would do all this for you. 

“Winnie, wait with me,

And we could be married,

Winnie, wait with me,

And we'll share the world,

Winnie, you can stop time,

And live like this,

Forever…”

“I could live like this forever,” you echoed.

“Live like this...” you sang in tandem.

“What do you say, Winnie? Do you want to…” he broke character suddenly, and asked, his eyes boring into yours, “Do you want to go out some time?” 

He could see the adorable smile blooming on your face, even from behind your hand. You nodded.

“Yes, I-I would love that,” and you began to sing the last line in the song, “Forever-” 

But before you finished holding out the note, his lips were on yours. His mouth moved slowly, intentionally, against yours. You followed his lead, flustered. He leaned further forward, his palm caressing your cheek. It was everything you imagined it would be, and you had quite the imagination. Your head was angled up and your hands rested themselves on his back, one tracing little shapes. Your shoulders were pressed against each other and neither of you could think. He was so warm. He tasted like coconut and passion fruit, and a distant part of your mind silently thanked Eleanor again. 

You really could live like this forever.

[capricornus-rex]

A Shadow of What You Used to Be (11)

Chapter 11: Set in Motion | Cal Kestis x Irele Skywalker

Requested by Anon

Summary: There is another! Years after young Anakin Skywalker departed Tatooine, his mother Shmi delivers a second child—this time, a daughter. Whilst the circumstance of the girl’s birth remains unexplained, Irele Skywalker has yet to choose the true path between those laid out for her.

Tags: Fem! OC, Irele Skywalker, Force-sensitive! OC, Anakin’s Younger Sister, Skywalker! OC, Darth Vader’s Secret Apprentice, Long-lost Sibling

A/N: Hi guys, I’m slowly getting back on my feet mentally. I hope I didn’t disinterest you guys with how long I’ve taken to write stories. If you still stayed to tune in to the story despite the dramatic change in my posting schedule, A BIG THANK YOU TO YOU GUYS!! I’ll keep writing to make this story interesting.

Requesting to be tagged: @heavenly1927​

Also in AO3

Chapters: Prelude – 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6 – 7 – 8 – 9 | Previous: Part 10 | Next: Part 12 | Masterlist

12 of ?

17 BBY

A day after her full medical examination, the Anathema charted a course to the western arm of the Mustafar system.

For the first time in a near-month, Irele officially can wander around the ship. The first thing she did with the privilege was to find her way to the bridge, with HY-L33 by her side. Despite her plain-looking clothes, she stuck out like a sore thumb.

She approaches the viewing pane of the bridge, a spot that most officers were accustomed to seeing Vader instead, and watches the bluish-gray moon come into size as they pass through the Imperial blockade. She didn’t listen to the standard exchange between officers from each end, her gaze remained on the moon. She allowed herself to close her eyes to get a feel of the planet—she felt it cold and brooding, and yet it was brimming with life. She started to guess what kind of terrain it had too, probably volcanic rock, she thought; but the closer the ship got, she realizes that it was mostly water.

Unaware that she’s connecting with the planet’s essence through the Force, to her, it felt like frolicking around someplace new and unexplored; for this particular moon, she could feel the cold water seawater freeze the nerves under her skin, she could the faint light of the bioluminescent creatures thriving in the depth as if like starlight, and the strong current that nearly swept her off of her feet. Her eyelids shot up.

“What is this place?” she asked no one in particular.

“We are approaching the moon, Nur, Lady Irele.”

Irele turned her head to the side to see who answered: a young uniformed officer with black hair neatly cropped at the sides. He donned the exact same garbs as his colleagues, the only thing that differed was the badges pinned on his left chest—which was relatively fewer than the seasoned admiral.

The same officer didn’t go far from her; as the Anathema got into the moon’s exosphere, he escorted her—along with HY-L33, whom she insisted to be allowed to follow her—to the hangar where the shuttle Zenith awaits its passenger. Irele made herself comfortable in the main cabin, furnished with only a small round table surrounded by a booth, across it is a slab meant as a bench for other passengers.

The girl’s curiosity grew at the same time the moon scaled in size as they descended into the atmosphere. At first glance, she’d think the gray and black surface would be high cliffs; the Zenith cut through the clouds, revealing much of the land mass, she leaned in by the window to find that there was none. All of it was water. The only other terrain that existed there was the fortress that sat in the middle of the ocean, it was practically an artificial island in its own right.

“What is that?”

“That is Fortress Inquisitorius, Lady Irele.”

“What’s in there?”

“This is the standard lodge and training grounds for Inquisitors.”

It’s the first time she’s heard the word, though she’s absolutely sure that she is none of that.

“Why am I being brought here?”

A pause came upon the droid, HY-L33’s neck whirred as to bow her head.

“My apologies, neither captain nor crew have uploaded their ship manifest into my database.”

Irele made a mental note to request for HY-L33 to have special privileges if it involved her. That is, if she can even make one.

The fortress’s peak pierced through the sky like a spear, standing tall and as deep as the ocean floor. The pilot gently curbed around, allowing Irele a closer look and all of a sudden she felt weary.

–

Irele exited the Zenith and was then passed over to another officer, though much older and appearing to be perpetually vexed by this fool’s errand. Nevertheless, the escort officer walked Irele and HY-L33 through the fortress. It was a metal maze underwater.

The vibrant blue of the underwater life reflected a sheen over Irele’s widened eyes. Mouth agape, she had forgotten that she was in such a foreboding, ominous place. Never has she ever dreamed in her entire life that she’d see a place this blue, after living of seeing nothing but golden-brown sand that stretched up to the ridges where the twin suns hid.

The escort officer kept on blathering about where was what, schedules—her schedules, specifically—of her routines and training sessions. Irele was having none of it, she walked by the glass wall staring at the shoals that swam past her. Her distracted giggling caught the attention of the officer and he snapped.

“Lady Irele, did you hear what I just said?!”

The poor, startled girl’s shoulders jumped and her heels sprang. She froze in place.

“S-Sorry, I was looking at the water…”

The officer sighed and switched his tone, “Would you want me to arrange a tour in your own personal pod, young lady?”

It didn’t take a genius to see that the officer’s words were drawling with a harsh breed of sarcasm. Irele’s fists balled so tightly that her fingernails dug curves on the skin of her palms. She glowers at him, refusing to speak. The escort rolled his eyes and sighed, further irritated by this mundane task given to him.

“Puh! Children!” he scoffed under his breath as soon as he turned away from Irele and continued.

Eventually, they arrive to a viewing room with a wide window that spanned from left to right. Irele was reluctant to stand beside the escort, the latter thought likewise so he stepped back himself. Below the viewing deck, Irele witnessed something intense, brutal, and oddly fascinating.

Two individuals, armored head to foot in sleek black, both wielding weapons but each a different kind.  One held a pair of rods, and the other a weapon in the same fashion as a hammer. Violet electricity crackling along the ends of the weapons sparked at every collision and strike each fighter made.

Irele pressed herself against the glass when the fight was getting good. She didn’t place her bet on anyone, she had never seen a graceful, calculated fight such as this—even though this is a normal sparring session, to keep these fighters’ wits and skills sharp. The dual wielder eventually wins after staggering his opponent with a flurry of attacks.

“Come now, young lady, it’s time I bring you to your quarters.”

She looks away from the viewing pane and then to the escort, her expression served enough as a question asking for elaboration, though he didn’t humor her with an answer—even if she actually asked.

Her room in Fortress Inquisitor was a bigger version of the one she had in the command ship; and so she had to adjust all over again, but seeing that it was no different either way, getting used to the room was somehow easy.

“Well, HY-L33, I guess we’ll be staying here for a while.”

“Indeed, Lady Irele. I will be here to assess you medically if you are fit for your regular training sessions assigned in your schedule.”

“Why am I going to be trained? Are they gonna make me an Inquisitor?”

“In a way, Lady Irele, yes. But you will not be named an Inquisitor.”

“Then what’s the point of training me? I get that I will need to learn how to fight but for what?”

HY-L33 stood silent and incapable of answering her master’s questions. Irele apologized for barraging the droid with questions that may not have been—as she now mockingly calls it—“not uploaded into her database.”

Irele took rest for the day, not knowing what’s in store for her in the coming days.

The pawn now moves.

[poisonepel]

I would like to request headcanons of the 3 Octavinelle boys falling in love with a girl. Pretty please. :3

delivery !! I shall now return to my hole of self-doubt over my portrayal of the octavinelle fish babies 💦 I hope I’m living up to u fish stans’ standards 🐙

※these hcs imply that this is the first time they’re experiencing true love for someone. so, maybe when they’re first-years ?? very new and very bby

Azul

He’s not in love. He probably just wants something from you …is what he tells himself at first.

At night, he finds himself thinking about you constantly; how much he’d love to be there for you whenever you’re going through something, how much he’d love to sit down with you, pour two cups of tea and just listen to your voice for hours.

He’s a little taken aback by himself. Since when does Azul care about other people?? He’s normally just interested in the profits he’ll gain out of his services—never the person’s well-being. Now he has a problem, and he’s not sure how to fix it.

Azul has imagined falling in love before, but never did he expect it to feel like this. He does extensive research on you while he figures out how to deal with this; what your current interests are, your transcript/best courses, your resume, your magic class, which careers you plan on pursuing/which careers your current skill-set would be a good fit for, etc. His top priority is knowing how much income you’d bring into the household should this relationship end up progressing beyond college (Granted, it hasn’t even begun yet. But he isn’t concerned about that.)

…Even if he ends up disappointed by the data he finds, he quickly realizes that knowing you have no idea what you’re going to do with your life still doesn’t stop his heart from fluttering at the thought of you.

This is even more of a problem.

No matter what he does, though, he can’t ignore you—so, he’ll invite you to tea at the Lounge, he’ll invite you over to his dorm room; he decides he’ll figure out his own feelings while in communication with you.

Jade

When he realizes he’s in love with you, Jade’s first fear is… Azul.

As his assistant, Jade worries Azul might view feelings like love as “getting in the way.” After all, Jade is obligated to dedicate himself to Azul and Azul alone. Plus, he knows first-hand how Azul notoriously will twist up a person’s relationships and thoughts to use those against them.

He doesn’t want to put you in danger’s way, which Azul could easily bring should he decide to intervene in your relationship. But, Jade can’t pretend he doesn’t love you either. So everything is in secret. He pays many visits to your dorm room late into the night, while oftentimes ignoring you in the day, ensuring that you stay out of Azul’s area of interest during work hours. If you ever have a problem? Jade will fix it himself. Azul will never hear anything regarding you.

It’s painful for Jade on days when he knows you’re stressed, or on days when he’s not feeling totally up to speed; he hates that he can’t act like a normal boyfriend at school. But, his fears overpower his desires.

Floyd helps out with keeping you two a secret as well. As his twin brother, Jade will always be the one person his loyalty is strongest for; even if Floyd doesn’t particularly like you, he makes sure Azul never finds out about Jade’s love, nor let anything happen to you.

In the case that Azul finds out, and actually doesn’t mind the relationship, Jade is noticeably much happier. Being able to smile at you in public and kiss your forehead without worrying about any threats from his own boss is a huge relief.

Floyd

Make it stop. Floyd hates this feeling. He doesn’t understand what’s going on with himself; he just knows he’s constantly uncomfortable in the chest and wants it to stop.

And since this only ever happens when he’s around you, or when he’s thinking about you, he figures you must’ve done something to him. Cast a curse? Cast a love spell? He corners you one day and flat-out demands that you “change him back.”

Naturally, you have no idea what he’s talking about. Floyd is immensely frustrated, even moreso by the fact that you’re insisting you haven’t done anything. When you finally figure out that he’s accusing you of giving him a love potion, you remind him that magic like that doesn’t work if the person is self-aware. That calms him a little from his explosive fit, and he asks, a bit despairingly, how to make it stop.

“W-well….”

Depending on your answer, and your own feelings towards him, you might explore a whole new world with Floyd ;D

[renegade-skywalker]

Out of the Abyss, Chapter 20

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2  / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 / Chapter 8 / Chapter 9 / Chapter 10 / Chapter 11 / Chapter 12 / Chapter 13 / Chapter 14 / Chapter 15 / Chapter 16 / Chapter 17 / Chapter 18 / Chapter 19 / Chapter 20: Sole Survivor

After years in exile, ex-Jedi General, Eden Valen (now going by Vale) continues to clean up after Revan and Malak’s mess of a war, only to find herself forever cursed with their unfinished business. As an ill-fated lead brings her to Tatooine, Eden finds that Revan’s mysterious plans go beyond the Republic, beyond the Outer Rim, and into the utter unknown. (A novelization of The Sith Lords and beyond)

Chapter Summary: Atton returns to a changed Peragus, fearing now for his life as well as his record, and Brianna catches Atris up to the Exile's whereabouts.

Also found on AO3 | fanfiction.net

3951, Peragus Mining Facility Atton

"Anything you'd like to report?"

"Um, excuse me - what?"

"Anything you'd like to report, sir? In your luggage?"

Atton was good at smuggling, or at least he had been, given his current performance. Not used to being flustered, Atton mustered as charming of a laugh as he could and considered even winking at the Peragus intake officer looking him deadpan in the face.

"Ah yeah, actually," he answered finally, desperately trying to sound casual but failing miserably, "Got a new jacket, some boots, and-"

"Alright then, just log them in here, here and here," the woman cut him off as she thrust a datapad at his chest, before he could flourish his half-lie with something even stupider than what he'd already said. The new jacket wasn't a lie, nor were the boots… but what was inside the boots, well, that was another story.

Atton restrained himself, careful to keep his dumb mouth shut, and took the datapad from the officer's impatient hands. Doing as she asked, he logged the new duds and… nothing else. Smiling still, he handed the pad back to her, her expression unchanged.

"Okay, now I just need you to sign this waiver-"

"Waiver?" Atton held up a hand to stop her, "I signed a waiver when I signed on with this outfit, why do I need to do it again?"

"New company policy," she shrugged, seeming more annoyed than anything. Atton watched her for further reaction, but after finding none snatched the datapad back from her and scanned the waiver now displayed on its screen. "Says here the hazard pay's gone up. What's that about?"

Atton's heart skipped a beat once his brain processed the technical salary increase but knew better than to get his hopes up.

"Haven't you heard?" the officer said, rolling her eyes, "Whole outfit could blow any minute now, what with the up in mining accidents."

"But there are always mining accidents," Atton answered, "Isn't that the whole point this job is what it is?"

"Not like this," she replied, sighing and raising her brows as she glanced at his file open on another datapad at her fingertips, "We lost ten miners since you set off, it looks like."

"Lost? As in… died?"

The woman nodded, solemn despite the clear annoyance still painted on her face.

"Damn. Does anyone know why? I mean, accidents happen, but any idea why there are so many?"

The woman shrugged again.

"Management won't tell us anything, just that it's under control. Whatever that means."

Atton huffed in snark agreement, "Of course."

Signing the waiver finally, wondering just how harrowing his next four years here might be, he was suddenly feeling better about the contraband hiding in near-plain sight in his carry-on, almost forgetting the deal with the Exchange lackey that forced him into this mess.

One down, four to go. Though if everything went as planned, he'd be off this rock in no time.

 -------------------------------

3951 BBY,  The Polar Regions of Telos The Last Handmaiden

"And that was the last you saw of the Exile?"

"Yes, Mistress," Brianna's voice echoed through Atris' chambers, even the quickness of her breath reverberating off the stark walls that surrounded them. "Is there any more you wish from me?"

Atris remained silent, her fingers steepled in thought as they cradled her porcelain chin upon her desk, considering Brianna's words. Atris betrayed no emotion as she considered the Last Handmaiden's account, though she already knew what happened from the reports Brianna had sent. After a few agonizing minutes, the woman shook her head. "I believe that will be all for now. Good work."

Good work?

Brianna would hardly call it good work, and though she was glad for her sisters' unusual accolades, nothing of what had transpired over the last standard week felt good to her.

"I sense some uncertainty," Atris said, a wan smile crossing her pale features as her gaze lifted to meet Brianna's inquisitive stare. "If you have any grievances, please share them."

Brianna was unsure if this was a request made in earnest curiosity or one meant to draw out her ire.

"Perhaps I misinterpreted your instructions, Mistress. I was under the impression that I was to continue to pursue the Exile, even after she left Nespis."

"Ah," Atris said, her voice soft and soothing. Mistress uncoupled her hands and pressed them to the desk as she stood, her white robes billowing as she swept across the room to Brianna's side. "That was the intention, yes, but the Force has since shown me another path."

Brianna stiffened as Atris placed a hand on her shoulder, both afraid there was some unseen reprimand yet to come though inwardly pleased at the closeness, her Mistress' smile an almost motherly welcome.

"As their only other living witness, you have further confirmed my fears that the Sith have returned. It is only a matter of time before they reveal themselves in true and wage war on the Republic as we know it. But for now we must rest and await their arrival."

Brianna nodded, tempted to mirror Atris' serene smile though finding she couldn't at the thought of the man with the violet saber back at Anchorhead, perturbed that Atris seemed so sure that the Sith would continue to emerge from anonymity, finally making themselves known.

"Tell me what to do next, Mistress," Brianna bowed her head, reverent, awaiting her Mistress' next command, unsure of what else to do.

"I have something for you," Atris answered after a moment, her voice soft but aloof now. "See that plasteel container by the door?"

Atris removed her hand from Brianna's shoulder, the Echani's arm suddenly cold at the absence of her Mistress' touch. Brianna glanced back in the direction Atris indicated, finding a demure box waiting by the exit to the study, hardly distinguishable from the other packages piled up along the walls - undoubtedly housing artifacts yet to be examined, items yet to be logged into Atris' never-ending inventory.

"I would like for you to take it with you when you return to your quarters. Think of it more as a test than a gift."

"Yes, Mistress."

"You would do well to consider your Echani oath," Atris continued, hooking her hand beneath Brianna's chin and guiding it so that she looked at Atris again. Mistress' angelic smile remained, her eyes warm despite their iciness. It was a wonder Atris was not Echani herself, given her appearance, though it was clear she revered the race highly for their discipline as well as for how well their faith coincided with that of the Jedi. "I will need all the protection I can get."

"Y-yes, Mistress."

Atris removed her hand from Brianna's chin and Brianna bowed her head again, wanting anything but to look Mistress in the eye.

She knows.

"Speak with Orenna about blocking," Atris said, returning to her desk and immediately busying herself with a datapad, as if Brianna had only just interrupted her and had not been speaking for the last hour, detailing every leg of her journey. "And try not to take it personally, or anything your sisters say for that matter. I believe it was sentimentality that ultimately led your father to his unfortunate demise."

Atris was not even looking at Brianna as she said this, her voice almost casual and nonchalant as she continued. Her father was murdered by the traitor Revan, Brianna and everyone else knew that. But she knew what Atris spoke of, if not indirectly - the thing that haunted her every waking moment, the mistake Brianna never made but was born with the burden to bear. Brianna the Bastard. The Last of the Handmaidens.

"You would do well with some guidance," Atris said with some finality, an edge to her voice as her eyes rose to meet Brianna's - briefly - before smiling softly and returning to her work without another glance. This was meant to signal Brianna's dismissal and mark her uncouth exit from Atris' chambers to again consider the sins of her father, ad nauseum.

Brianna waited for a moment, almost hopeful that Atris was not yet finished, but when her Mistress continued to read her datapad without so much as another upward glance, Brianna nodded, bowed, and retreated, picking up the plasteel container as she went.

Once out of sight of Atris' chambers and clear of the long, somber causeway that separated their Mistress' quarters from her Echani advance guard, Brianna stopped mid-stride and leaned against the wall, letting out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding.

Her fingers prickled, cold almost, as if she had been out on the mountainside. Brianna's knuckles were white against the plasteel container still in her hands, and with a trembling grip, she opened the box to see what was inside.

At first, she saw nothing, just the black nothingness of an open box. But as the light adjusted, she saw it - grey fabric on grey fabric, shades upon shades of grey. The box nearly clattered to the floor as Brianna extracted the cloth in its entirety from the container, what little color she had drained from her face at the sight. Jedi robes.

Oh, she knows.

--------------------------------

3951, Peragus Mining Facility Atton

"So, do anything interesting off-world?" the new-hire beside him asked, but Atton only shrugged, trying his best to keep his mind focused on the data running across the screen in front of him. The mining droid on his other side twitched as it idled, as if awaiting Atton's command with impatience - which only made Atton want to punch the thing square in the module that looked most like a face.

"Really, nothing?"

The young humanoid was eager for Atton's opinion on all things Peragus, including the quality of the food, the linens the bunks were outfitted with (Atton couldn't help but snort when he said the word 'linens'), and of course, what their once-a-year leave would consist of once he qualified for it.

"Played some cards, ate some take out. Stuff we can't get around here, that sort of thing. Enjoyed the peace and quiet," Atton answered reluctantly after a moment, doing what he could to be as vague as possible while still giving a meaty enough answer in hopes of shutting the kid up.

The new recruit was fresh-faced and new to the job - quite literally. Having only just arrived that morning, Atton's shift manager thought it best to have him shadow Atton first thing once his paperwork was signed and ready to process. Fresh from the dire warnings that management bombarded the poor kid with during orientation, he was likely looking for a ray of hope, hungry for any indication that this outfit wasn't so bad. Atton didn't want to outright depress the guy but he also didn't want to lie, though ultimately Atton preferred not to have to talk to him at all.

"Aw, really? Didn't meet up with friends or family or anything?" he asked.

Atton almost laughed.

"Don't have either, though plenty of the others do. The company can arrange for family visits if that's what you were trying to get at."

"Ah, yeah, I was wondering," the new recruit said, shifting now as he watched Atton work from over his shoulder, completely oblivious to how uncomfortable it made him, "Trying to help my family win back their estate on Coruscant. Since we couldn't afford to send any of my siblings to school, we sort of ended up finding odd jobs around the galaxy."

"And you got sent all the way out here?" Atton asked, trying to mask the agitation in his voice as he tried to ignore the kid at his back the droid beside him, still twitching.

"Tough breaks, right?"

"Eh, it's not so bad once you get used to it. There are worse things you could be doing."

'Worse things' is putting it lightly. Atton eyed the corner of their work station, nestled into a bit of rock at the base of the current excavation site, at the satchel he left unattended by the entrance. All workers carried their equipment to and from their work sites, but they also carried a satchel with any nonessential gear like water or other provisions they might need for their shift. Atton's satchel had been equipped with only one nutrient bar and a water canister that was now attached to his hip. The rest of the satchel's contents would hopefully only be discovered by the man intended to pick it up, per the Exchange's orders, during the next shift change. The drop-off would be seamless, if all went as planned. And no one would be the wiser.

"I'm only here for a year, so it shouldn't be so bad."

If he was lucky.

"So, how long have you been here?"

Atton gritted his teeth, doing his best to ensure his work was accurate while he fished for unimportant answers and the droid continued to hum beside him uncertainly.

"A while," he answered absently, punching in a code that should keep the droid happy for a while. After hitting the execute button, the droid began mining as directed, and Atton sighed as the kid beside him laughed, clapping on needless congratulations.

"Whoa, that was awesome!"

"Uh, yeah sure," Atton said, checking his chronowatch. Only twenty minutes and he would be in the clear. His immediate future was already so clear in his mind - lunch scarfed down in a minute flat followed by a much-needed nap in his bunk. Once the drop off happened, he'd feel a lot better. And he could finally get back to paying off his debts, worry free.

"So you're good with numbers, huh?" the kid asked, returning to Atton's shoulder, scrutinizing the program he just entered into the datapad. Atton could only roll his eyes.

"Sort of, it's just a basic equation. Once you learn the ropes here, you'll see, it's just a programming spec meant to-"

"Hey, is your datapad working?" A voice interrupted from Atton's other side. He spun around to meet the sound, his eyes falling on a short red-haired woman running up beside him and his undesired intern.

"Uh, yeah why?" Atton answered, instantly forgetting the woman's name despite having been assigned to the same shift as her for the last six months.

"I dunno, mine's acting kind of funny. Won't take any commands. Do you mind taking a look?"

Atton minded, but didn't want to voice as much. After quickly eyeing the unattended satchel in the corner again, he nodded, knowing it would be best if he acted as normal and unassuming as possible - even if normal for him meant avoiding everyone at all costs. And to his dismay, his little sidekick fell into stride once he agreed to follow along and see what the problem was.

"I'm no expert or anything," Atton warned them both, putting up his hands as if in surrender, "But let's see here-"

The woman's station was on the adjacent wall, her datapad propped up against a jut in the metal paneled wall. After punching in a few codes, it was clear his co-worker's data was sound, her programming even more polished than his if anything.

"Huh, that's weird," he muttered, punching in the sequence to run diagnostics. "Everything seems clean. Perfect, even."

The woman beamed at his side but bit her lip once she caught sight of her droid again, clearly malfunctioning beside them.

"You don't think-?" she started, but she trailed off. Atton side-eyed her, her brown eyes meeting his for an instant before she shook her head. "No, nevermind. I'll figure it out next shift."

She powered down the droid and nodded at Atton in thanks before taking her datapad back and submitting a Help Desk ticket.

"That happen often?" the new kid asked as they walked back to Atton's station. Atton couldn't help but eye his own assigned mining droid with suspicion, content it was doing as it was told but uncomfortable with how it had been acting earlier - not to mention the rumors running around the station since he'd returned from Citadel Station.

"No, not really."

"Weird."

They worked in silence until the end of the shift, to Atton's relief, the new recruit only asking him about trivial things like how many suits they were issued and if they were allowed seconds at meal times. He kept glancing back at the woman from before, her droid thankfully slumped and still powered down since she willed it to be so, unmoving.

"So, are there designated 'lights out' times or-?" the new kid asked just before the shift change was signaled. "Oh, what's that?"

"Shift's over," Atton said, packing his datapad away and making a point to not look at his abandoned satchel. As they approached the elevators, Atton watched as the next shift filtered past them.

Once inside the lift, he couldn't help but look back, knowing that his gaze would be indistinguishable among the rest of the group waiting for the elevator up. Watching as the new shift took their stations, Atton saw a man kneel down and snatch up his abandoned satchel, slinging it over his back as if it were nothing. With close cropped hair and sharp blue eyes, Atton didn't recognize the man - only knowing that he fit the sorry excuse for a description the Exchange provided. And for now, that would have to be enough.

-----------------------------

"Did you hear about the explosion down in Sector Two?" a Twi'lek muttered, idly moving the food around her plate with a fork.

"I thought it was in Sector Eight? Sector Two is way too close to the administration level," her companion said.

Atton did his best to keep his head down and eat as fast as he could, still eager to nap before scheduled rec time and making the most of his sentence on this rock, but he couldn't help but get sucked into the gossip already on fire at the table he was unfortunately sitting at.

"No, I'm serious. Sector Two! And management isn't doing anything about it!"

"How do you know about it, then?"

Atton's eyes volleyed between the two women, the second one a humanoid with blue markings dotting her gold face. The Twi'lek sighed and glanced about the dining hall again, apparently uninterested in Atton, who was hopefully doing a decent enough job of pretending to be equally uninterested.

"My bunkmate is stationed there, said she was lucky to make it out alive."

"You should file a formal complaint. The least they could do is ignore it, right?"

"I think it was fake," the Twi'lek said instead

"Fake?"

Her companion nodded, grave as her eyes scanned the room to spot any eavesdroppers, lowering her voice and leaning forward as she continued.

"It was planted, for sure. You heard about the ship they found last week, right?"

The other woman shook her head.

"I hear they found some people on it, salvaging the rest, I guess. Not sure who though, but they must be important because there've been a ton of inquiries."

"Inquiries?"

The Twi'lek shrugged. "Why else would people care?"

"What do you mean by inquiries, though? Like, is it someone we know? Or-?"

"Not sure, but I have a feeling it has something to do with money."

The other woman chewed as she considered the Twi'lek's words, narrowing her eyes as she mulled it all over. "You don't think it's a Jedi do you? I heard there was a bounty out for any found alive."

"Psht, they don't even exist anymore, Mara. I doubt it's a Jedi."

"I dunno. I mean, the bounty's pretty high. And you heard about someone trying to smuggle frag grenades onto the station, right?"

"What?!" the Twi'lek exclaimed, though managed to keep her voice somewhere in the range of an urgent whisper. "No way. That's the dumbest thing someone could do."

"Yeah! Or, I don't know, might have been a blaster rifle or something or other, but either way, I hear that's why they've ramped up security since yesterday."

"Ugh, they just want to make it look like they have the situation under control when they really don't. Why would these explosions keep happening, anyway?"

Atton wanted to hear more, suddenly nervous about whatever the hell he just smuggled onto this Maker forsaken rock, but instead reluctantly relinquished his seat for the next hungry worker, getting up swiftly as if he hadn't been listening and deposited his lunch tray at the end of the hall. Glancing back, he found the two women conversing still, heads bowed together now, eyes darting about the room. But they weren't the only ones, he noticed. Nearly the entire hall was flush with the sound of hushed whispers, charged with an unseen energy that Atton felt without question. He was anxious when he returned from Telos for the unchecked cargo he brought with him, partially against his own will, and while that anxiety never faded it quickly fell in line with the anxiety already running rampant throughout the station, though for reasons that were still mysterious to him. And everyone else for that matter…

"Hey! What's all this talk about accidents?"

The new kid from before sidled up alongside Atton as soon as he entered the hallway, bustling with other workers as they changed shifts, each sector switching over according to a staggered schedule. Atton rolled his eyes, his irises glimpsing so far as the contents of his brain. Atton had originally planned his quick lunch and equally swift exit ahead of time, though not for the express purpose of running into his incidental-protege. Instead, the idea had been to beat the lunch crowd back to the dorms so he could sneak in a nap while he remained the bunks' only occupant. Only now his chances of success were diminishing.

"Remember the hazard pay they had you sign off on?" Atton said, sighing. The kid nodded, though he still appeared confused.

"Why do you think that number's so high? Because it's boring here? You do know what 'hazard' means, right?"

"Of course I do, but-" the new kid paused, looking about the hall for another sympathetic face and finding none that could read his mind, "I dunno, it all seems wrong though, doesn't it? Hazard pay or no?"

Atton wanted to agree but he also wanted to be alone in his bed with only imaginary Pazaak cards for company.

"Just- don't worry about it, okay?" Atton conceded, "Everything'll be-"

But before he could finish his sentence, he felt it. It. That tingling sensation at the base of his neck that always managed to tell him when everything was about to go sideways.

"Shit."

Before the thought could properly register, Atton's senses exploded, suddenly hyperaware of everything around him - the new kid turning at his side, the bustle of people walking in the opposite direction, a deactivated mining droid ahead of him and a shipment of food being delivered to the dining hall behind him as it swerved to avoid passersby - and just as time sped up to meet his senses, an arm reaching out to cover his face of its own accord, a very real explosion blew Atton off his feet, sending him straight into the wall at his left.

Skull, shoulder, and hips collided with tempersteel as all thought rushed out of Atton's head, his limbs acting out of instinct to protect himself on impact. Several bodies crashed into his other side as the air in the hall exploded and then compressed, a dull, faraway ringing replacing all sound.

Atton collapsed, his senses on fire, his muscles jelly, when his mind suddenly reached out, all objects in the hall somehow visible in his mind's eye: every person, every machine, every piece of debris as it swirled through the air around them as if in slow motion. And that's when he sensed it – the second explosion.

Without thinking, and still unable to feel his extremities, Atton scrambled into a blown open service closet just ahead of him, ducking inside the moment the second explosion hit.

Everything went black.

Silent.

And then… ringing, low murmurs. Energy swarmed around him. Time passed, though he knew not how much.

It was almost like waking, treading the space between dreams as they bled into the real world, only prolonged, as if Atton were half-awake and hardly aware of everything around him but only marginally so, half of his brain straining to sleep and the other half urging him desperately to get up - GET UP.

"I think this one's stabilizing, finally," a voice came into focus from the void.

Atton's entire world was still a swirling blackness, but the voice grew clearer, closer.

"Can't say the same for the rest of them."

"Damn it, really?"

A low beeping resonated through the space around him, Atton's senses slowly returning, everything hurting and dialed to eleven.

"Lost this one."

"This one, too."

"Shit, why does this keep happening?"

"Has management said anything? Are they launching an investigation? Or-?"

"Management doesn't give a shit about us," another voice huffed, Atton's vision now surging with light, the waking world still a blur, "I think this one's waking up. Hey? Hey! Can you hear me?"

"Hm?" Atton's lips were numb, tingling if anything, but he could feel them, or at least sense the lack of feeling in them, which was better than nothing.

"Good, good, now just keep talking, stay with me here."

"What happened?" Atton heard himself say, his voice about as dumb as it was hoarse.

"You were hurt pretty bad, there was an explosion down by the cafeteria a few hours ago. Do you remember anything?"

A few hours ago?

"I remember…"

It had happened so suddenly, yet Atton could dissect his every second as if he were watching a play-by-play, each frame pausing long enough for him to register all present information, and it still only felt like moments ago, his brief coma lasting longer than it seemed.

"It's okay, take your time," the medic slowly swam into Atton's sight, kaleidoscope vision slowly merging into one as Atton continued to take deep breaths, his mind still reeling with what just happened. A woman stood over him, a wan smile on her face as she observed Atton - the rest of the medbay slowly coming into focus behind her and her halo of honey brown hair. "Just keep talking to me, keep talking."

"Uh," Atton muttered, his lips still unfeeling, his entire body a senseless mass, both amorphous but painful all at once, "There were two explosions, I think."

"Two?" the medic pressed, this time jabbing an intravenous needle into Atton's forearm, a warm hand briefly checking his forehead for a temperature, "Are you sure?"

Atton nodded, finding that his head pounded with the action.

"Take it easy, easy now," the medic steadied him, a gentle hand on his strapped-in arm, the IV draped over his wrist and already pumping strong with a hell of a painkiller, Atton's limbs suddenly euphoric as his mind cleared.

The medbay was full. And Atton was the only one conscious, save for the medics.

Beyond the medic at his side, several charred bodies lay on slabs beside him, white cloth barely covering their corpses. Other medics rushed about the room, medical droids buzzing at their sides.

"Two explosions," Atton repeated, unable to say more as if his mouth were suddenly full of cotton.

"No idea?"

Atton shook his head. The play-by-play was clear, but his brain couldn't yet decode the images, his mouth nowhere near as caught up to speed as his memory.

"We're losing them-" a voice said from the other side of the room, panic rising in their throat. The medic at Atton's side turned to look, and upon looking at Atton again began wheeling him out of the room, the stretcher beneath him lurching as they went.

"What happened before the explosion? Can you tell me that?" the medic asked, clearly trying to keep Atton's attention away from the room they just exited, strong with the smell of burnt human flesh. "Do you remember anything, no matter how small?"

Atton tried to nod, but his head only swayed, heavier than he anticipated. It lunged to his left, and as they barreled down the hallway Atton glimpsed into another room full of kolto tanks alight with an ethereal blue-white light, like hyperspace. Each one housed a body, floating ominously in the viscous cerulean fluid, each tank's vital bars flashing orange with urgency. Atton tried nodding again as the door closed, his body still not entirely his own, only managing to shake his shoulders as the medic wheeled him into the auxiliary holding room usually reserved for workers awaiting blood tests.

"Take it easy," the medic said again, her brown eyes coming into focus as Atton finally stilled. "Don't wear yourself out, you've been through a lot."

"What happened to the others?"

"The others?"

"Yeah, there were a bunch of people in that hallway. I-"

"Hard to say," the medic responded, almost too quickly. "Can you tell me anything else?"

Atton's mouth slowly regained feeling - his lips were chapped, and he tasted blood.

"I-"

She had been like this just before she died, right before Atton killed her. The Jedi. Her lips parched, dry except for the blood bubbling from her throat, still smiling despite everything.

You can feel it, I know it, she'd said. You are a survivor, through and through. Your allegiances tell as much. But it is your connection to the Force you must thank, for it is the reason you yet live.

She was trying to teach him a lesson, his third eye finally opened, only Atton wasn't interested in seeing what was on the other side.

"No-not sure," Atton choked, the metallic taste of blood slithering down his throat as his senses continued to return.

"It's okay, it's okay. It's over now," the medic soothed, though the panic was clear in her voice. They were now in a silent room, but Atton still remembered the room they'd left and the one they passed along the way. The Twi'lek from earlier had mentioned an explosion in Sector Two, maybe the bodies were from that accident? But if the station's kolto tanks were already full, then where did that leave everyone else?

"You don't remember anything suspicious, do you?" the medic pressed again, "Was it a mining droid again?"

"Hard to say, I think the explosion came from right next to me. A cart was being pushed. Food, I think. For the dining hall."

The medic considered him, her expression growing graver by the second as she checked his vitals.

"You're one lucky bastard," she laughed, though the seriousness was clear in her voice, "You were the least injured of everyone we managed to pull out of there."

"Managed?"

"Half the hallway collapsed, there are still miners trying to get the rest of the survivors out, or at least recover any bodies- er, I mean, anyone else that might be stuck under the debris."

A survivor through and through.

Atton's chest lurched, launching his torso forward as he began to retch.

"Oh frack, here-" the medic balked, swallowing her surprise quickly enough to shift back into doctor mode and bring Atton an empty canister to shove his face in. "The meds might make you sick, forgot to mention that. It doesn't usually affect humans this strongly, but-"

Atton knew it wasn't the meds, though he thanked whatever nonexistent gods might be listening for their existence as the medicine coursed his veins, numbing the rest of his body from whatever hell he managed to avoid for the time being.

"Is this the only one?" Another medic approached them while Atton's head was still extended into the empty canister, his lunch thankfully remaining in his stomach despite the nausea that now roiled through him. "Just got the word from the infirmary."

"What word?!" Atton's attendant pulled away, her voice growing softer as she assumed an urgent whisper in response, "I just came from the infirmary."

The adjoining medic only shook his head. "The others are gone. None of them made it."

Gone. In minutes.

Atton retched again.

It is your connection to the Force you must thank, for it is the reason you yet live.

"What?!"

The other medic only nodded in response as shock painted both of their faces. Atton's attendant buried her face in her hands before raking her fingers through her hair, taking a sharp intake of breath. "Call the security officer. Now."

"What? Why?"

"They need to launch an investigation. This is getting ridiculous. No, we're well past that-"

"Yara? Yara!" Another medic came rushing into the room at a light jog, pausing only before she was close to her colleagues, glancing at Atton cursorily before continuing, still out of breath. "Did you order another round of medication to be distributed to the kolto tanks?"

"What? No, I've been in the infirmary, and now here. Why?"

"Then you need to come see this," the woman said, now nodding at the second attendant. "You, too."

All three medics looked at Atton apologetically, as if they owed him anything, the drugs now in full force as he felt both heavy and weightless at once.

"Someone will be back to check on you shortly," the second medic assured him as the three clinicians rushed out of the room.

And just like that, Atton was alone again.

[occasionalfics]

hi so i haven’t made any real posts in a while bc i haven’t really been writing that much but i wanted to just post SOMETHING for y’all to interact with

anyway, if you don’t know, i have a youtube channel and i’ve been watching (almost) every movie that chris evans is in because i love him and reviewing them for my channel and i thought i’d give a rundown of the movies i’ve seen so far (including ones i haven’t rewatched for the channel yet because i’m not gonna link to the videos - if you really want to watch, message me) so maybe you could decide which ones are worth your time and/or money 😂

for this, i’ll give a brief description, my general thoughts, and a score from 1-10 (1 being unwatchable and 10 being PEAK cinema)

i’m keeping things very light on spoilers, meaning there might be one or two overall but not for every movie.

so here we go:

The Newcomers (2000) - some indie movie with no theatrical release about a family that moves from boston to vermont because of money troubles. chris is in it for like 5 minutes and he’s honestly the second best part (second to a dog only). 3/10, mostly boring but not offensive.

Not Another Teen Movie (2001) - i feel like everyone has seen this. it’s a spoof of 80′s and 90′s teen movies (namely she’s all that and cruel intentions). chris plays the main love interest and he’s definitely funny enough to pull off the part but it’s not really my thing. 4/10.

The Perfect Score (2004) - this is the first time chris and sc*rj* worked together. 6 high school kids fail the SATs so instead of retaking them, they sneak into a government building and steal the answers. it’s an mtv movie and it’s...fine? not great, not special, but...very early aughts mtv for sure. 4/10

Cellular (2004) - an action flick where chris plays a regular dude who gets a call from a woman who’s been kidnapped, and then has to keep communications up with her in order to save her and take down some corrupt cops. surprisingly funny, i had a great time watching, would recommend! 7/10

Fierce People (2005) - i think this was another indie movie without a theatrical release. based on a book that, from the reviews of both, is identical, i think because the author of the book was also the screenplay writer. and that’s probably why this movie sucked. bby anton yelchin (rip) gets caught scoring drugs for his mom, and because she has connections to this super rich dude, they end up going to live in new jersey with his weirdass family instead of bby anton going to jail. chris’s character is not who you think he is. content warnings for drugs, rape, and murder. overall boring, not what it thinks it is, 4/10

Fantastic Four (2005) - okay everyone’s seen these. i actually hate both of these FF movies, but chris as johnny storm is the only shinning light in either. reed is the WORST and sue is treated like eye candy. 4/10 for johnny storm alone.

London (2005) - literally the worst movie i have ever seen. i hate london. also an indie movie, very misogynistic, very pretentious and self-important. lonely emo boy does drugs with random people in a bathroom at a party he was not invited to INTENTIONALLY, in the hopes that he will win over his ex girlfriend, who he repeatedly emotionally abused while they were together, even though the party is literally in honor of her moving across the country. and she didn’t want him there. please never, ever bother watching london and talking about it online - fuckbois will attempt to tell you that you know nothing repeatedly. 1/10, worst film ever made.

TMNT (2007) - does this need an introduction? chris plays casey, but the movie’s really about the turtles. honestly the writing kind of relies on you knowing a lot about the turtle lore and overall it’s a boring but ultimately harmless film. it’s just really not worth your time. 2/10

Sunshine (2007) - ONE OF THE BEST MOVIES I HAVE EVER SEEN, I HAVE NOT  STOPPED THINKING ABOUT SUNSHINE IN OVER A YEAR. 8 astronauts are on a mission to ignite a nuclear bomb into the dying heart of our sun. but it’s a space film so shit goes wrong and, one by one, they start dying. very tense, very sad. the biggest complaint all around is that the first 2/3s of the movie are one genre and the last 3rd is a completely different movie, and yet it’s STILL amazing. please watch (if you can handle a space thriller)! 8/10

Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer (2007) - a very bad follow up to a very bad origin movie. not even andre braugher could save this one. reed is really mean to johnny for no reason and i hate his guts. 3/10

The Nanny Diaries (2007) - second time appearing alongside sc*rj*. she’s the main character. an anthropology student takes on a nannying job for an upperclass family in new york, but the job ends up being more than she bargained for. chris plays harvard hottie, her upstairs neighbor who is THE BEST BOY. i loved this movie. 8/10

Battle for Terra (2007) - a very weird but very good animated movie about humans attempting to colonize an alien planet because we were stupid enough to destroy earth, venus, and mars. lots of big names on the cast list for a movie that not many people saw, but it goes ham in the “fuck colonizers” theme. overall, a surprising joy. 6.5/10

Street Kings (2008) - well this was directed by david ayer so my friend and i went into this with very low expectations and it didn’t even meet that bar. keanu reeves plays a sad and angry corrupt cop who almost kind of gets framed for killing another cop, and then spends a good chunk of the runtime just hunting down other corrupt cops without doing anything about his own corruption. it’s copaganda, but very bad copaganda. also chris dies. fuck this movie, don’t waste your time. this is another one where the fanboys will come for you if you say a bad thing about it on the internet, 2/10

The Loss of a Teardrop Diamond (2008) - another indie that apparently caught the eye of kevin fiege? i don’t really know why because chris’s character is very bland and the movie overall is nothing special. tennessee williams wrote the screenplay before he died in the 80′s and then this was made and nothing about it was changed. it’s basically straight people in the 20′s in the south being weird and rude. a rich girl pays a hot poor boy to escort her to parties after a huge scandal was caused by her father. she loves the poor boy but he doesn’t return the feelings and everyone’s sad, dying, or mean. skip it, honestly. 4/10

Push (2009) - honestly, an underrated movie that so often gets shit on because of x-men. push is so good! a telekinetic man meets a young girl who can see the future, who tells him that if he helps her find her mom, they’ll also come into $6 million. they run into his ex and the government department trying to control people with powers, and shit ensues. chris’s chemistry with dakota fanning as big brother/little sister is adorable and i need more people to talk about it. 8/10, very worth your time.

The Losers (2010) - apparently went up against some other star-studded action flick with a similar plot at the time of release and suffered for it, but other than that, this is a fun romp with lots of character. a team of militiamen are framed for an international scandal and forced to go underground until a mysterious woman helps them exact revenge on the billionaire who framed them so they can go back to their families. chris plays one of the secondary characters and he’s PERFECT. best character in the whole movie! you’ve probably seen the “don’t stop believing”/”lethal killing machine” scene around tumblr before - that’s just how his character is the whole movie and it’s great. definitely recommend! 7/10

Scott Pilgrim vs. The World (2010) - we’ve all seen it. lucas lee is the best. there are lots of problems in the word choice and some of the moral quandaries but overall, an enjoyable ode to videogames and comic books. 6.5/10

Puncture (2011) - once again, an indie film with very little theatrical release. WHOOOH though. this movie. SO GOOD! two personal injury lawyers take on a case when a nurse is accidentally pricked on the job and contracts AIDS. they take on a huge pharmaceutical supply company in the hopes of manufacturing and creating a legal standard for using safety needles to protect frontline medical workers, all while chris’s character is dealing with being an addict. based on a true story, honestly   one of chris’s best performances (and that’s across the board). you can  rent it cheap from youtube and it’s totally worth it. 7.5/10

Captain America: The First Avenger (2011) - i mean. it’s cap. honestly this movie feels a little long even though it’s not. overall it’s a good, enjoyable movie and watching it all the way through reminded me of why bucky was so important. 7/10

What's Your Number? (2011) - okay honestly i love this movie? a woman is slutshamed by her sister’s friends and then embarks on a journey through her past relationships to find her soulmate, only to realize that it doesn’t matter how many men she’s slept with because the right one really won’t give a damn and neither should she. everyone’s seen naked collin around tumblr. he’s a good boy. mostly. 7/10

The Avengers (2012) - so i can appreciate that this was like THE event movie of the summer of 2012 but it is LONG and there’s still so much spy shit i don’t understand. my friends and i also think that j*ss wh*d*n oversimplifies most of the characters, and ultimately the writing isn’t super strong. the performances are, for sure, but it’s still not as great of a movie as i thought it was when i was a senior in high school. 7/10

The Iceman (2012) - also an indie? based on a true story. a man (played by michael shannon) is recruited by the mob to be a hitman, and then something happens where they don’t want to pay him or something, so he starts doing a shady job with another hitman (played by chris) to support his family. overall it’s a boring film but michael and chris were both really good! watch it if you like dark mob movies, michael shannon, or winona ryder. 3/10

Snowpiercer (2013) - this movie, no pun intended, is a RIDE. poor people at the back of a train containing the last living human beings revolt against the bourgeoise. everyone’s dirty and tired and hungry. weird shit happens, but ultimately, this was SO worth the watch (and the money i spent on the blu-ray)!  7/10

Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014) - still my favorite cap movie. excellent characterization, maybe the only time i cared about natasha. the plot should be an avengers movie given that shield is a team concern, but i will stand by the winter soldier aspect of this movie til i die. 8/10

Before We Go (2014) - an indie movie that chris directed (his directorial debut)! it’s...cute, i guess. it’s not harmful in any way, but also not special in any way. flustered woman misses her train, cute musician in the station offers to help her navigate NYC. they talk about feelings and their pasts and what they’re running from and toward. it’s fine. 6/10

Playing It Cool (2014) - indie? i don’t know?? screenplay writer (chris) wants to write action films but keeps getting hired to write romcoms, then he finds himself IN a romcom. it’s okay. some people think it’s terribly misogynistic which i didn’t find it to be, but it’s also just...kinda bland. 4/10

Avengers: Age of Ultron (2015) - my least favorite avengers movie. i genuinely hate how ultron was handled and this movie has never once made me sympathize with the maximoffs. except for when steve defends their choice to allow experimentation to be done so they could defend their country. uh the party at the beginning is the best part, full stop. 3/10

Captain America: Civil War (2016) - this isn’t a cap film. he has no character growth. this is an avengers film at best. i also take issue with how much of this movie is really just two movies forced into one. bucky gets the short end of the deal in the overall mcu and this is really where that starts. 5/10

Gifted (2017) - PLEASE. WATCH. GIFTED. a former philosophy professor gives up his career to raise his niece, but when his mother attempts to gain custody, he has to fight for the person he loves most in the world. one of the most heartfelt, genuine movies ever. chris and mckenna grace have SUCH good chemistry. bonus octavia spencer (also in snowpiercer). 10/10

Avengers: Infinity War (2018) - probably my favorite avengers movie. great stakes. amazing acting. THE BEARD!!! 8/10

Knives Out (2019) - WHOOO BITCH. TOP TIER. ransom drysdale could do whatever he wants to me and normally, i don’t “date” villains. 9/10

Endgame (2019) - the lesser infinity war. i’m not a fan of time jumps and also hate fatphobia. thor was mistreated and i can’t forgive that.

[kinktae]

jesus christ I'm so sorry to hear you're in a similar, if not worse situation than I am. school is just so stressful and anxiety inducing and people here are assholes. like as bad as paris level asshole which says a lot believe me. I wish I could give you advice but I've never been through college and honestly I have no clue what it's like here or in france. honestly you should clear up your schedule a bit too for next semester/trimester - french anon

I am taking four classes next semester!!! So yes definitely!

Anonymous said: but if I can be honest my schedule for second year (dunno what it’s called sorry) is worse. once again I have no prep - AP US history (I know nothing about this), AP Chemistry, also know little about chemistry and lack the english vocabulary, another honors english class, combining two honors french classes which shouldn’t be a problem but I’m from the country and it’s like satori in korean it’s completely different from standard french for me. like hillbilly french ig- french anon

HILLBILLY FRENCH HAHAHAH. Also, second year is called sophomore year! AP US History, damn girl that is a tough, even for an American. I would see if you can drop out of that class and switch it to something easier like AP Environmental Science (if that’s an option.) But I’m sure if you dedicate yourself you should be able to get through it <3

Anonymous said: after that we have honors algebra second year, I barely know anything about geometry and trigonometry. I don’t even know how to say trigonometry in french like what? I have another high level music class and then another year of a third language in honors. I don’t even have a study class (hall?) next year and I am in three sports so I practice more than a full time job works, and then I go to school. I think I really messed up here - french anon

Thats so weird bc my french teacher taught us that trigonometry was just le trigonométrie. Anyway, you don’t need to know geometry/trig to understand algebra. They say if you hate geometry then you will love algebra. Algebra is like chemistry but chem has science mixed in. (Also remember that colleges only require that you take two years of the same language in high school, which means you don’t have to take it your third year.)

Anonymous said: I just want to be on the right medication for my mental disorders so that maybe I don’t live off of two pieces of bread everyday for two weeks only to have it happen again. it’s frustrating! I want this to be over! and no offense america but literally why trump he makes everything worse and your politics system makes no sense. like at least in france I don’t have to be aware of it but here it’s literally everywhere you go. - french anon

Ah I hope they can find the right medication for you! As Trump, hahhhhh I have many thoughts on that man as a child of two immigrants. I don’t want to get too into it but just know that the majority of Americans DID NOT vote for him, I think only 47% of Americans actually voted for him lol idk i don’t understand the government

Anonymous said: your language is really weird by the way. I know I’m french and can’t say that technically bc french is just as bad but literally @ english why. grammar sucks. sentence structure sucks. PRONUNCIATION AND SYLLABLE STRESS SUCKS. contractions are weird. there’s literally almost no point to them in english? and overall the people here suck w welcoming foreigners like I cannot tell you how many times someone impersonated my accent to make fun of me. - french anon

LMAO I FEEEEEL. Also I’m sorry people are being shitty ugh. Americans are sometimes too blunt and speak without thinking, we don’t even realize sometimes when we are being rude.

Anonymous said: I said it before too, and I will most definitely say it a bunch more. your. school. system. sucks. ass. it can suck my ass, slap my thigh and call me george for all I care and I would still not think it’s funny despite being an awful joke. I hope your life improves though bc you just don’t deserve this the only human I can think of in america that deserves the shit of their own system is moldy tangerine himself. rip american students. - french anon

MOLDY TANGERINE SDKFJSKJF I personally see him more as a stale cheeto.

Anonymous said: but honestly from what I can tell college sucks. fake news. exams are stressful as heck and if you do good no one but your anxiety rewards you bc I’m the same way, I live off of my grades and atm I have a D+ in English and a C in AP World History. I’m far behind and the final is this week oops. but honestly like,,, why. just why. you only get degraded if you fail and nothing good happens if you pass like what is the point. - french anon

College is actually really really great when you don’t overload yourself with work. There is so much freedom and you can take literally ANY class you can think of. I could take a class all about rock n roll music if I wanted to at my university. Also, I guess if you pass a class, then you get to go to more school. Yay(?)

Anonymous said: I’m going to keep you in my thoughts amour, because I really hope things get better and you get the courage to attend your classes. sorry for going off again in your inbox it’s probably annoying to have some stupid freshman ranting about the school system when your situation seems to be way worse than mine. I hope everything goes well, don’t worry about writing for your followers bc we’d rather you do it for fun than force it. - french anon

Anonymous said: it’s a lot easier to read when it flows naturally from your thoughts (and as someone who stRuggles w reading on occasion I know and I can tell bby). please take your time and prioritize you. please. I’m begging. I can’t imagine what your situation is like but it does not seem fun. so don’t feel any pressure from here and focus on what’s a lot more important. I believe in you, I believe you can pass english. I know you can. okay I’m done, sorry again. je t'aime, mon amour, salut <3 - french anon

Ahh you are too sweet. I will prioritize my time. Also psshhh you don’t bother me at all. I mean, we are technically both “stupid freshman.” You’re a freshman in high school and I am a freshman in college ;) Thank you for your kind words, te amo, je t’aime and I love you <3333

[ladylesso]

50 facts about yourself ❓ 🌻🌻

1.) i laugh at everything because i’m basically sunshine (i relate to tedros on a spiritual level)2.) i make vv weird noises when i’m hyper like i can sound like a snorting seal or a roaring dragon there is no in between 3.) science says that i’m a born leader yet .,,,,…… [burrows under my cloud-patterned comforter and snuggles with my books] i’ll be here4.) i will love my dog til the end of time 5.) i’m an organized person (sTUDYBLRS OGMDH)6.) it’s funny how fast i’ll completely submit to your will if you offer me a book or food7.) i have a weakness for accents8.) i’m obsessed with shooting stars and nebulas and cosmic strings and planets and basically the galaxy9.) i have a ..,,,….. sunny outlook on life that appeases to most people but makes others sneer at because how ? dare ? i ? be ? happy ? in ? this ? cruel ? world ? how ? dare ? i ? try ? to ? live ? my ? short ? existence ? with ? sunshine smiles and tight hugs everywhere i go ? how dare i ? (well i got a message for you, people out there that believe that they are strong and better for being pessimistic in this difficult world than those ‘stupid’ optimistic people that they believe to be ignorant but try to get through as best as they can: I DARE. AND I DARE YOU TO TRY AND STOP ME. BUT I ASSURE YOU THIS: YOU WILL NEVER WIN.)10.) i’m very dramatic (see above)11.) i’m also very passionate (see above)12.) which is ironic because i can turn my emotions off in certain situations (scary to me sometimes because sometimes it’s involuntary and i wanna FEEL)13.) neutral good bby 14.) i’m usually the friendliest person ever so if you ever approach me or message me with “hi!” or “do u wanna be friends” i would smile and message you back something like “yES”15.) i believe that agatha is the most best person in the trilogy ♡ she makes mistakes, she apologizes for them and assures that she won’t make them again; she has low self-esteem, she’s beginning to love herself a little bit more every single day; she sees a situation where her happiness is on the line but everything major has the power to be saved if she only gives it up, some people believe (including me) that doing a good deed and feeling good about it afterwards doesn’t really make it a good and selfless deed because you get the feeling of satisfaction with it, but agatha dreadfully gives up something (or someone) that makes her happy or she deeply cares for in exchange for the fate of the world -> oMFJG LONG RANT BC AGGIE IS BABE16.) i love fluffy bunnies17.) feed me swedish meatballs for the rest of my life and i’ll worship you18.) i love making my books mine; like i will tab them with sticky notes and if i love and feel comfortable with a book enough, i’ll even draw on the book. but i also like to keep them pristine and nice and not ruined 19.) i’m adaptable to most situations 20.) every year, i do this thing where when i finish a book, i write it down on a piece of paper (i even put the date and time i finished it) and put it in a container (i favor jars) and once the year is over, i open it up and just reminiscence 21.) bury me with christmas lights22.) i’ve never read harry potter before aND THIS IS NOT BECAUSE I’M INTERESTED IN READING IT - I AM INTERESTED - I JUST I’M NOT READY TO DELVE INTO THIS LEGENDARY WORLD MY MIND MY BODY MY SPIRIT MY EMOTIONS ARE NOT READY FOR THAT23.) if i had to pick my absolute fave genre, i would pick fantasy (i love different, unique worlds and i don’t care much for reality) 24.) i’ve stopped watching this show, but in the walking dead, my fave character is daryl (((;25.) i am a feminist and i support and am part of the lgbt+ community 26.) i use she/her pronouns 27.) i got questioned by the police once (rather not get into it ((((((;)28.) kindness is one of my favorite words29.) i don’t like confrontations; i often have a hard time explaining myself and my emotions 30.) i’m a enfj-a (((;31.) hUFFLEPUFF AND PROUD 32.) my favorite color is green 33.) i’m mostly scared of everything but i don’t let that stop me from getting what i want34.) i’ve peed in the woods three times rather than use the bathroom (wAIT FOUR TIMES ACTUALLY; MY SISTER AND I WERE AT AN OUTHOUSE AND SHE SCARED ME BY SAYING THAT A CROCODILE WOULD BITE MY BUTT IF I PEED ON THE NASTY TOLIET SO I WAS LIKE “nNnOo!!!!” sO I PEED OUTSIDE THE OUTHOUSE AND YEA (((:) 35.) it’s rare for me to be consistent with something; my nature believes that while consistency is steady and nice, it’s also sometimes incredibly boring and i, for one, am not a fan of boredom gOOSHS thAT’S likE my nIgHtMaRe36.) i love bows, like those bows you put on christmas presents ? yea like those bows, i collect those bows37.) i love to see something - a book, a journal, a pillow, a box - incredibly loved, like that realization that wOw this person spent a long time loving this object you can just tell how much it means to this person 38.) i hope that one day, the world will be alright enough that when girls go out at night, they won’t feel afraid that they’ll get kidnapped or assaulted; i hope they’ll feel safe and comfortable to spend the night away with friends or just lay down and look at the stars 39.) i adore the little details about people; i feel like that’s what makes me feel closer to them 40.) i’m proud of the human being i am today, i’ve grown so much over the years and i’m so happy that i’ve learned and experienced new things, but i’ve also realized that i have space to improve and make myself a better person everyday 41.) my favorite beverages are water and lemonade42.) no matter how much i wish to be intimidating and scary, i am very soft and compassionate and silly 43.) hot office romance ??¿¿?? yes pleASE44.) screw double standards ; if a woman wants to be sexual, then don’t slut shame her and let her be sexual ; if a woman doesn’t want anything to do with being sexual, then don’t call her a “prude” and let her do what she wants to do 45.) dogs have the cutest meatball noses that I just want to poke and kiss every 5 seconds 46.) when it snows outside, i like to go outside and make smiley faces in the snow on the cars 47.) i want my very own library space when i’m older and i will cherish it forever and ever 48.) GiVe Me cHARM BRaCeLeTs 49.) i love hamilton the musical 50.) i’m in love with love