#PTSD OC

[psychotic4ghost]

Mykie "Siren" Jamison

I have made many many characters in my life but I think this is the first character who I have mentally scarred with their backstory. I apologize Mykie that your god (me) is a monster. You are what you eat/drink and I have a crippling monster addiction my doctor has yelled at me to stop :Siren & The 141: Masterlist

ANYWAY here's her character sheet as well as her backstory!

I'll update this post eventually with some drawings of her as well. Pre bio arm and post bio arm. I just have to find the energy to draw again.

[parasolladyansy]

Especially when she was younger, Ansy would feel this need to just HIDE - the world was unsafe, & she had to go somewhere that was. Sometimes it was dissociation or daydreaming, other times it was finding a bathroom or corner to hide in until it was okay.

One of these times, someone came looking for her; Ingo found her as the sun was going down, & sat with her in that hiding spot. Among the things he told her, this one stayed with her into adulthood - it told her that even when it felt like the world was ending, it might not be, that there might be a way to keep going if she was brave enough to peek around the corner.

—

It is your right to be sad, worried, or angry, no matter what others around you may say. You have your own reasons for feeling whatever you may be feeling, & that is your business. My own tears have dried up. Now, I’m peeking around the corner, & I think I see a way forward.

We’ll be okay, so long as we don’t give up & isolate. In my experience, bad people will do everything to make you feel all alone, that no one is listening, & no one is coming. That’s not true, so long as we don’t close our hearts to each other, or to ourselves.

Take care, okay? 🩵 I may keep drawing, but if not, see you Sunday for the next DxP update. ^_^

[wombywoo]

evolution 👤

[vilochkaaa]

i finally make almost full reference for my most favorite stormy farmer boy - Willow :3

i luv him soo so much <33

[tildeathiwillwrite]

This sad little fictional man just has so. Much. Trauma.

Let's give him more, shall we? >:3

[sketchygabz]

“For without you, my Master…my existence…my existence means nothing.”

[shellsweet]

I did it! I made a comic! A comic about my OC (Alice) and her trauma ✨️!

[mellowwillowy]

Yan! Emperor x GN Empress! Reader

CW: General Yandere warnings. Another warning on the second cut.

"𝑯𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒐𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒂 𝒑𝒖𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒕 𝒂𝒔𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒎 𝒂𝒔 𝒂 𝒑𝒖𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒓."

Yan! Emperor who schemed against the Empress to have her resigned from her position or even better, executed. He wouldn't want this wench to take the position of his love after all.

Yan! Emperor who secured your position as the next Empress. Hm? It didn't matter what your gender was. Whether you were a woman or a man or neither, for as long as you kept up with the facade, no one would ever notice it.

Yan! Emperor who secured a place for you in the palace, he would never allow anyone to drive you out of it even if it was the Empress or his puppeteers.

Yan! Emperor whose love was only reserved for you and you. The image of you on his bed embracing his tired body would always live in his head rent-free.

Yan! Emperor who felt the need to protect you despite your capabilities of protecting yourself. The two of you may be strong but he knew well the two of you were the exact contrasity of each other. He was the Sin while you were the Virtue itself.

Yan! Emperor who would not hesitate to drag the people who insulted or even caused the slightest inconvenience toward you by their broken and twisted limbs.

Yan! Emperor who secretly worshipped you as though you were his God all along. He couldn't care less about the God his puppeteer worshipped.

Yan! Emperor who knew you hated how both of your lives were controlled like a puppet. But even so, he knew you hated how he had to use force to break free from the strings they used to tug on the two of you.

Yan! Emperor who devised a plan to break free of himself first before saving you. Killing every one of the higher-ups who were using him as a puppet figuratively and literally.

"Then do pray forgive but my dear, what would be left of me, of us, if I didn't kill them all?"

Yan! Emperor who knew you had always been trying to break free from their grasp in a virtuous way, you had always been so naive... no matter how red your armories were painted, that little head of yours had always been so naive.

Yan! Emperor who started to cut the strings that were controlling you one by one so that it wasn't that noticeable that he was involved in this. He knew you'd be devastated if you knew they were all killed just to free you.

Yan! Emperor who started to frame the Empress, forging pieces of evidence and crimes that were all pointed to her neck. It took a lot of time and preparation but he was a patient man. A price to pay to have you sitting next to him on the throne.

Yan! Emperor who stole your journal that detailed all the wrongdoings of everyone in the imperial palace. This way, you wouldn't question the credibility of the accusations thrown at them. Ah, where did you put your diary again?

Yan! Emperor who couldn't wait to fit all the missing puzzles into place, executing all his plans into motion while watching everyone fall from their haven. When the Empress had finally lost all her backing and support, he decided to strike her down with a final hit.

Yan! Emperor who made you watch everything unravel from the front row, how rain fell as the Empress cursed him and you while the guards held her in place.

"YOU WILL SUFFER THE SAME FATE AS I DO, UWAAAAAAAAAAHHH"

Yan! Emperor who watched how your grip on the umbrella tightened, tears wetting your cheek along with the raindrops.

"It's finally over, my dearest."

Yan! Emperor who held no remorse for the deceased as he viewed them as nothing but hindrances to the both of you.

"One must never stop oppressing for just a mere slight of a second would give them a chance to bite back."

Yan! Emperor who immediately discharged you from your position as the Grand General and made you his Empress shortly after the mourning phase had passed. The mourning phase was nothing but a joke to him as his body collided with yours, spending his nights with you.

Yan! Emperor who courted you with a show of him displaying his archery skills, piercing all pearls that were thrown at him down. It somehow reminded him how he annihilated everyone that came in his and your way.

Yan! Emperor who was really mad in love with you, someone who suffered the same fate as he did and yet remained true to self, pristine virtue and beaming in radiance. You were the light of his life despite how your white garment slowly reddened into prosperous red adorning your body. You were the Empress and you had to behave like one, strong-willed and swiftly adapt to all the scheming people in the Imperial Palace.

Yan! Emperor who was your first backing and support, right?

Yan! Emperor who loved you and only you. Forever. For eternity.

CW: Yan! Emperor against Reader (because he wanted Reader to be his lover), Reader's death. Angst no comfort (comfort came in the next lives lmfao), Yan! Emperor avenged your death though (mass slaughter of nation)...

Yan! Emperor who was not pleased with how strong-willed you were as an Empress. As much as he respected you as a former Grand General and an Empress, he did not wish for you to not express any kind of romance sparks anymore.

Yan! Emperor who hated how virtuous you were to the point it slowed down the supposed plan. From then on, the Imperial Palace was divided into two sides, your side and his side. Did he finally stop supporting you, you wondered.

Yan! Emperor who knew what you two had gone through and that you were only being considerate to those who were suffering as well. Nonetheless, he also knew what you suggested was also filled in loopholes.

Yan! Emperor who saw you took in someone under your wing, a girl who was brimming with innocence and curiosity, a reminder to him of how you used to be before you were slowly corrupted.

"It seems like they took her in because it reminded them of themselves as well."

Yan! Emperor who watched how you cared for the girl and protected her from anything that would trouble her. As much as he knew how platonic it was, it was undeniable that he was jealous of the attention that girl received.

Yan! Emperor who noticed how things started to crumble down between you and that girl sooner than you did. He noticed how her eyes were now purely brimming in Envy, green matching her eye colors.

Yan! Emperor who knew she wanted what you had. Honor, strength, intelligence, willpower, and spouse. He knew it and he used that against you.

"If only they are no longer the Empress..." He whispered into the girl's ear, "You would be the next Empress..."

Yan! Emperor who despised the idea of people thinking he really loved his current concubine, she was nothing but a pawn to him. Holding her hand alone made him frown in disgust. He wanted to hold you again and not some make-believe of you.

Yan! Emperor who watched everything by the sideline, how that girl started to consume everything you had, honor, support, intelligence but never his heart.

Yan! Emperor who witnessed everything going well just like his plans until it didn't. His heart was sunken.

"One must never stop oppressing for just a mere slight of a second would give them a chance to bite back."

Yan! Emperor who was only away for a month was informed about your death. The overthrow did not go as he expected. It was supposed to only have you exiled but not killed!

Yan! Emperor who went furious immediately, leaving the province he was in to ensure everything was false news. His horse galloped as though it was burnt alive by him, he did not stop despite the hunger and cold he had to face. YOU were his priority.

Yan! Emperor who saw the whole imperial palace was adorned in red instead of white. So it was only false news, right?

"Hao Yuchen, the traitor had finally been overthrown."

Yan! Emperor whose body failed to stand, his mind racing in horror of what he had done. Instead of surrendering to her mercy, you remained persistent as you had always been, charging toward her men instead of her despite your wounded body. The ending was clear, you died due to your wounds and lack of blood.

Yan! Emperor whose golden eyes finally lost its reflection of light, what swirled in it was only grudge and guilt.

Yan! Emperor who wished he could somehow just strangle the girl and himself to death now. That way, he might be able to meet you in Heaven right?

Yan! Emperor who knew he was bound to be sent to hell. He had committed sins in his whole life and was ready to repent for it to meet you in Heaven up there.

"But what if I ascended as a God instead?"

Yan! Emperor who had no choice but to make her the next Empress, rumors circulating around the Imperial Palace as two Empress had been overthrown. Will this girl be overthrown as well?

Yan! Emperor who wondered to himself, would you be angry if he drove this girl who you protected in your last stand to death? If so, he was ready to feel your fury, in fact, he wished he could feel anything from you.

Yan! Emperor who despised the girl that copied everything you did, he loathed the red that was once adorned your body worn by her now.

Yan! Emperor who was a patient man. A price to pay to have her body floating lifeless on a river. Yes, she would be disposed of the moment he deemed her useless to the nation.

Yan! Emperor who tricked her into drinking the poison instead of the elixir of immortality, letting her body fall into the river as her eyes never left the moon.

"... The moon looks beautiful just like them..."

Yan! Emperor who had always been jealous of the girl. He knew she adored you and yet her way of viewing things was distorted into something disturbing.

But who was he to speak like that when he himself was also at fault?

Yan! Emperor who sat by the porch, gazing into the moon while reminiscing the memories he shared with you before drinking the elixir of immortality.

Yan! Emperor who knew there were only 2 people left in the Imperial Palace, him and a nameless young man.

Yan! Emperor who let the young general cut him open with his sword, feeling a little of the pain of what you felt back then. The general pulled out a bottle of concoction from his sleeve,

"This is the real elixir of immortality." He spat as he drank the elixir.

Yan! Emperor who did not shut his eyes close, his eyes never left the moon above him. Were you residing on the moon as a rabbit? Or were you flying freely like a crane?

In the Imperial Palace, the Emperor lay lifeless on the porch, his golden eyes were dead but they never left the moon above him.

"I will... forever... hold you dearly... in my heart..."

To find you again, to see you again, to hold you again.

Even if it took millenniums... even if it meant I had to destroy your life again...

In the river, the girl's body floated lifeless as her eyes never left the moon.

In the forest, the boy's body lay lifeless as butterflies and flowers surrounded him, his eyes never left the moon.

ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ:

The second cut wasn't really necessary to be read but here's a summary. (The fic up there was packed into summary as well but it left lots of confusion and details out so it sounds OFF)

Hao Yuchen - Emperor

Ying Zili - Girl

Ying Qingyuan - Nameless Young Man

Reader's whereabouts remained unknown. (Nb: reader will appear as a crane next time.)

After the reader's death, the Emperor starts to plan the Empress' downfall, tricking her into making the wrong moves and framing her. The Empress was depicted as committing suicide out of the pressure of mistakes she had committed while the truth is that she was tricked into drinking the poison she thought as an elixir of immortality.

The Nameless Young Man was suspected to be either Reader or Empress' underling.

The whole nation was slaughtered by the Emperor which indirectly made him ascend as a God instead.

Empress and Nameless Young Man also ascended as Gods as well. Ps: in the original lore, the Emperor's ego was hurt so he tried to strike down the Empress and turned them into his lover.

Bonus ; Crack

[jazzstarrlight]

Lexi & Anya- A Trigger (1&2/?)

This has been sitting in my head for weeks now. Kinda like how I do these partial sketch/digital pieces. So many ideas, so little time in the day to draw them.

Also, the return of my OC Jnx as Lexi's teacher. Professor Jnx!

[saintsir4n]

HOLD ON

where tommy cannot believe he has a daughter after returning from the war.

WARNINGS: mentions of the war, ptsd

——

1919

TOMMY stared down at the little girl who lay asleep in bed.

His little girl.

His blue gaze was unwavering in the depth of night. He hadn’t slept. He didn’t sleep. Even when the moonlight poured into his small room and smothered his daughter. Since returning from the war he studied her. Little Inara Shelby. The child whom he could not hold when she was born, or care for in her early years.

She was four years old.

Bloody four and only now he was around her, raising her as he promised Eden before the war. The war they all thought would not last. Just until Christmas, we’ll be back then. But they weren't and he could not forgive himself for the years that passed.

“Tom?” Eden’s voice crept into the room with the opening door. Tommy let out a hum of acknowledgement. The Shelby woman smiled fondly after shutting the door behind her. She wore her house coat as she took in the lovely sight. Father and daughter. “I used to do this. I still do,” she whispered. “She twitches in her sleep y’know? Like you do.”

Like I did, he wanted to say, as did she.

When he slept, he dreamt and there were never the nicest of dreams. He woke up yelling, shouting for the vivid visions to stop. It scared Eden.

And so he tried not to sleep, he poured his energy into anything else.

His daughter was one of those things.

“I never got to hold her,” he uttered as the silence passed.

Eden shuffled closer, “What?”

“When… as a baby. Was she heavy?” He didn’t look up to his wife when he asked. Instead, his mind tossed around various weights whilst he studied his daughter.

She was not a small child, but she wasn’t big either.

A fond smile tugged at Eden’s lips, before she spoke, “The heaviest, almost broke my arms off.”

“Ada was a heavy baby,” Tommy recalled, inhaling when he felt her nimble hand settle on his shoulder.

“Guess that made you strong,” she gently rubbed at his exposed skin.

“No. I didn’t know what strong was until I fought.”

“There are different types of strong love. You had to endure a type that no one should.” She trod carefully with her words. “Now you’re back.” Not all of you. “Now you get to hold your daughter.”

Tommy swallowed harshly, “I won’t stop.”

“I know.”

“No, Edie.” Tommy finally turned his head, adjusting his gaze to meet his wife’s worrisome one. Her soft grasp left his shoulder and reached to link with his callous hands. “I’ll make sure we make it out of here. Be the bright light through this fuckin’ bleakness eh?”

“I know Tommy. Shining through the fog of this murky city right?” Eden thoughtfully recalled the kind words her best friend once wrote. She carried them always. “With your razor blades and all.”

Still speaking quietly he replied with purpose, “If they protect who I love, then that’s all that matters.”

That’s all that will ever matter.

——

[mj-iza-writer]

Whumptober Day 1... it's back. 😁 Let's see if I get completionists again this year.

Race Against the Clock / Search Party / Panic Attack / If only we could hold on ( Icysami X Renegaderr, Strangers)

Caretaker sat at their table writing out some notes while Whumpee sat across from them.

"Master", Whumpee looked up at Caretaker, "is this what you meant?"

"Yes that looks very good", Caretaker nodded.

Whumpee's eyes sparkled with the praise.

"Thankyou Master", Whumpee gleamed.

Caretaker had handed Whumpee a simple task to work on so they could still feel complete. They were still very service minded and wanted to help out around the house.

Unfortunately, Whumpee was also recovered from a house fire. They had too many severe burns and enhaled a lot of smoke. Plus other previous injuries from beatings left Whumpee too weak to do much of anything.

Whumpee's so-called master had gotten into some trouble with the law, and they were trying to hide a few things. One of which was their slave they had kidnapped.

They left Whumpee tied up in a closet and started the fire.

A neighbor saw the fire and alerted first responders before anything could spread.

The responders heard Whumpee's desperate pleas for mercy.

Whumpee was saved. Caretaker was given responsibility for Whumpee a little after.

Whumpee stole quick glances at the notes while Caretaker wrote.

Caretaker could see them shyly watching in their own peripheral.

"Are you curious about what I'm working on?", Caretaker smiled gently.

"Uhm, y-yes. I'm s-sorry. I know it's n-none of my business. Mas-master always said a good slave should never concern themself with their Master's business", Whumpee looked down at some of their bandages, "your hand writing is really pretty. I sometimes wish I could remember how to, uhm write. I don't think I remember anymore."

"Well I'm writing notes about you. These will help with your care and the doctors working with you", Caretaker held up the paper, "I do like my handwriting, I worked very hard to get this style of penmanship down", Caretaker thought for a moment, "I can teach you if you like. You can relearn how to write, and even make your own style of writing. Do you want to try after the bandages come off and you've healed a little?"

"I would like that", Whumpee smiled.

"Okay, we'll make that a goal to work for", Caretaker grinned, "what would you want to write?"

"My name", Whumpee looked down shamefully, "I haven't seen it written down in years."

Caretaker hurried to find a blank paper and meticulously wrote Whumpee's name down in their best penmanship.

"There you go", they handed the paper to Whumpee.

"Wow tha-that looks so cool", Whumpee stared at the paper, "it's my name."

"Yes", Caretaker nodded, "that is yours."

Caretaker got to the kitchen and started to prepare dinner.

They had forgotten about a small mess in their stove and turned it on. The dripped mess at the bottom of the stove warmed up along with the stove.

The stench of burning caught Caretaker by surprise. They opened the stove door and smoke came out at them. The fire alarm started going off.

"Crap", Caretaker waved a towel at the alarm, then at the smoke. Lastly, they opened their kitchen window to get some fresh air.

"I knew I forgot to do something after breakfast", Caretaker sighed as they turned the stove off.

A whimper and crash from the next room caused them to panic.

"Whumpee?", Caretaker gasped as they rushed to the sound.

Whumpee had fallen to the floor and scooted up against the wall. Far away from the smoke that Caretaker had fanned away. They stared wide-eyed at the doorway, not even noticing Caretaker crouched down beside them.

"Whumpee, Whumpee. Are you with me?", Caretaker tried to gently shake them out of it, "crap crap... crap."

Whumpee's trembling figure didn't react to Caretaker, no matter how much Caretaker tried.

"Come on Whumpee", Caretaker gently pulled Whumpee into a hug, and rocked them back and forth.

'Good job Caretaker', Caretaker sighed to themself, 'give the burn victim flashbacks.'

Tears started to run down Whumpee's cheeks.

"Pl-please, I-I didn't do any... please Master, I'll be good", Whumpee repeatedly whispered with quivering lips.

'Oh my dear, how many times did you repeat that until you were finally rescued", Caretaker thought as they continued to rock Whumpee back and forth.

Whumpee lunged forward and started to throw up.

Caretaker gently patted their back. They could clean the throw up off of the floor later.

"That's alright", Caretaker promised once Whumpee looked up at them nervously, then at their mess on the floor, "I can clean that really easily. I just want to know that you're okay before that."

"Th-the... no... fire.... we ne.... I fire", Whumpee gasped.

"Shh, shh. It's alright. I accidentally left some split food in the stove and turned it on. It burnt", Caretaker pulled Whumpee into another gentle hug so as not to hurt Whumpee's injuries, "there isn't a fire. Just some smoke that the alarm didn't like. We are safe."

Whumpee couldn't help but bury their face into Caretaker's chest.

Caretaker gently patted Whumpee's back as they continued to rock them, "I am so sorry, I did not mean to scare you and cause this. I got a little sidetracked this morning and forgot to clean up", Caretaker sighed.

Whumpee nodded, but continued to leave their face into Caretaker's chest, "can I.... will you please let me stay like this for a few more minutes?"

"Yes, you can stay like this for as long as you need", Caretaker chuckled lightly, "do you like hugs?"

"I-I think so... it's been a long time since I've had one. Is this considered a hug?", Whumpee whispered, "I feel really tired all of a sudden. Why do I feel so tired Master?"

"Well, I believe you may have had a panic attack just now. Sometimes, you'll experience what's called a low. That could even last for a few days after."

Whumpee listened intently, "I don't like it."

"I know, and I'm sorry", Caretaker patted their back, "how about we get some food delivered. I'll wait until the oven is cooled down and I'll make sure to clean up my mess."

Whumpee nodded, and relaxed a little more into Caretaker's arms.

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.

@villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived

@sacredwrath @porschethemermaid

@monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz

@bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13

@notpeppermint @cyborg0109

@idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots

@whumpbump @everythingsscary

@skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr

@theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee

@candleshopmenace @whumpanthems

@lavndvrr @ivymyers

@starfields08000 @a-living-canvas

@lumpofsand @watermeezer

@indigoviolet311 @whumpy-mountains

@3-2-whump @risk606

@electrons2006 @paperprinxe

@whumprince @kaz-of-crows

@mis-graves @decaffeinatedtimetraveler94

@sausages-things @ragin-cajun-fangirl

@isikedmyself878 @daffyduckcommittedtaxfraud

@valravnthefrenchie @glennemerald

@jasperthecapser @does-directions

@deafeninglittlecrown

[parasolladyansy]

PKMN Black - Ansy

One more highlights post before going back to our regular schedule of Diamond x Pearl REWRITE (& please excuse the slight style changes through these lol, as I made some of these a year or two ago, while others I made leading up to posting DxP REWRITE on my Instagram parasol_lady_ansy).

As I said on Ansy’s timeline, BW was a very coming-of-age story for Ansy, maybe the most impactful for her character as a whole. It was her first official Pokémon journey, as her very first one through Kanto was cut short (see timeline), leaving her with PTSD. Enter Rain, her then-service Eevee (now Vaporeon!) - she was given to Ansy right before she moved to Unova to help adjust to life there.

She met all kinds of friends, enemies, rivals, & even a mysterious Champion from another region. This is when she first met Ingo & Emmet (they were about 19, brand new Subway Bosses, while she was 15). Skyla was about 16, & still working on her pilot license where she can fly industrial planes (like she does in BW2), but can fly small recreational aircraft like ultralights. Cynthia was also aged down to a teenager, though older than Ansy (looking forward to when she appears in DxP REWRITE 🖤)

The last fight against N, then Ghetsis, was a big turning point for her, as that was the first time since the incident in Kanto that she finally allowed herself to be angry, synching perfectly with the fiery white dragon Reshiram. She & they have a very deep bond, & while she didn’t catch them (Ansy befriends Legendaries instead of catching them), they would come when called wherever she was in Unova. 🪽

—

Other BW comics - Unovan Halloween /

[glendylucast]

Given the chance to break, would you be on your way out? Who are you? Novo Amor - Seneca

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

My Call of Duty WW2 OC, Clifford Wildblood.

He was just a little boy back then, stranded far away from home.

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

Found a perfect theme song for him

More here

The Death of Seneca (1773) by Jacques-Louis David

No further context for now lol, but one day when we get to his story, you'll find out.

[zombiecakes]

[comic behind the cut: pls read trigger warnings first!]

[staycalmandhugaclone]

Fool's Errand Pt 1

Part (1) of Fool's Errand, the next arc of Doc's Misadventures! If you're new, start at the beginning with Touch Starved!

Warnings: Back to some good, ol' whump here. Minor ptsd, blood, broken nose, needles, profanity

WC: 3,183

“Damn it, get down!!”

“I am! Any lower and I'll need a kriffing shovel!” I snapped back, tempted to mute him just to hear myself think.

“I’ve got eyes on her, Cross; just focus on finding us a way in!” Even Echo's voice held the faintest rush of unease.

We'd known this wouldn't be easy. They'd caught someone – some big-name politician I hadn't made much effort to remember, but the Republic deemed them important enough to send us behind enemy lines to get them back.

The Marauder lay hidden nearly a dozen klicks away, nestled amidst brambles and fallen logs until even I struggled to notice it. We’d stolen a pair of Separatist transports to approach the black ops site without raising much suspicion and split up to search the compound faster. Tech and Wrecker infiltrated the northern side, Echo and I came in from the south, and Hunter was on his own along the crumbling remains of the eastern wall with Crosshair posted in the nearby tree line. He’d violently opposed my going in, but we had no means of knowing what kind of state our target would be in when we found them.

The politician was the least of my concerns, though. I’d been on edge since entering those transports. The ping of the metal walkways against our boots, the hum of the engine, even the color of the walls… it was just too similar. But were weren't on Agamar, and I hated how softly the others were stepping around me. I hated even more the undeniable knowledge that I needed them to.

That tension hadn’t lessened as we reached the Separatist black site. It looked abandoned; scarce buildings in such a perfect state of intentional disarray as to almost promise nothing but ancient debris and decades of dust lay within, but Tech's scans confirmed massive power fluctuations underground. It wasn't a huge compound, but it didn't need to be. Barely a half dozen structures remained standing, skeletal framework partially hidden by an overgrowth we now used to our own advantage as we crawled through the dense brush, thorns somehow numerous enough and sharp enough to occasionally find purchase in the slim crescents of skin left unprotected between sections of armor.

Echo and I had just finished sweeping through the second building in search of an entrance to the lower level when the site’s defenses suddenly roared to life. Numerous turrets burst from the soil that, mere seconds prior has shown no trace of anything beyond untouched wilds, and we’d just managed to hide behind a partially caved-in room before being noticed.

I could hear dozens of gears whirring to life just beyond our dilapidated shelter, the harsh crunch of leaves and branches breaking beneath heavy, metallic feet. Droids were flooding the site. We were pinned down by the turrets. And Hunter wasn’t answering his com.

“Can we make it to the next structure?” Echo asked, voice forced into a whisper.

“Not yet.” There was a long moment of silence, and I could feel myself tensing more with each passing second, legs coiled beneath me. “Now!” We were moving before the hushed order fell silent, both crouched so low that we were practically crawling, one hand occasionally darting to the ground in a gate more natural to some forest dwelling beast, but our awkward appearance didn't matter. The half dozen droids mere meters to our right posed little threat in and of themselves, but revealing our presence now might cause untold numbers to swarm. If they had Hunter, our only hope to free him was to keep ourselves hidden.

My legs burned from the effort of keeping up with Echo. He moved as though he’d been born for such things, body stalking preternaturally through tall grass and biting bramble effortlessly, but I still found myself watching him, worried I'd note some hint of a falter in his stride, but whatever strain the motion surely wrought upon his residual limbs was a torture to which he was far too accustomed to show amidst the threat lingering over us.

“Down!” We dropped harshly to the ground, and my every instinct balked at the helpless position. Mere seconds passed before the almost musical chorus of shifting counterweights and metallic limbs raced through the foliage just feet ahead of us. Droidekas. The nervous tension dancing beneath my skin turned to dread in an instant, ice bursting through my chest in a rush of panic. I didn't want to notice the way Echo glanced back toward me, the depth of concern that tiny movement conveyed. The droid presence was no longer a simple annoyance. We were in danger.

Was Crosshair switching between com channels to warn Tech and Wrecker lest their chatter create a lethal distraction? Were they balancing the risk of striking first versus continuing what felt like a doomed plight to remain unnoticed? My lungs ached from the effort of controlling each breath, body eager to fall into the too tempting frenzy of fear.

Echo’s hand flared out, signaling me to move around his left flank before readying his pistol, attention trained toward the sound of machinery falling into formation. I knew at least fifteen meters still lay between us and the next building; knew that he was purposefully placing himself between me and the enemy units; that, even among this squad of elites, Echo was the most capable soldier I could hope to have guarding my back, but, still, I had to grind my teeth against useless objections, abhorred at the very thought of letting him act either as distraction or delay if we were seen.

That fear surged anew at every shuffle of leaves and snap of twigs as I crawled forward, stealing one final glance just as I passed him. He couldn’t see the plea in my eyes, the order begging to scream from lips carefully trapped between ground teeth that he not put himself in danger, but he didn’t have to. With the smallest movement, he looked toward me in kind and offered the faintest nod, and that tiny gesture was enough to push me on.

He waited until several feet separated us before he started after me, and something about that, about knowing he was following just behind me granted me a confidence I had no right feeling, determination numbing me to the burn in my arms as I hauled myself through an undergrowth that showed no sign of the wear it ought to have from the abuse of concealing a Separatist base.

When the ridge of a tattered roof finally jutted above the line of greenery, I couldn’t restrain the deep sigh of relief, but I had to remind myself that any façade of safety feigned by the crumbling walls granted only a fool’s comfort and forced myself to pause just shy of the entrance. Echo didn’t stop until he was nearly flush against my side, and we both waited with bated breath.

“Tech and Wrecker found an entrance. If you don’t find one in there, stay hidden until they report back.” Crosshair’s voice fell into a carefully detached hum. I wanted to respond, to offer some reassurance, but we couldn’t risk even that, so I merely watched in silence as Echo took point once more, waiting for his signal before following him into the derelict structure.

Once, it stood a couple stories high, brick walls more akin to a school than a prison, but there was no sign of such possibilities within any longer. Nature had reclaimed the half-dozen rooms and interconnecting hallways long ago. Ferns draped through shattered windows, and mounds of dirt collected in the corners reached halfway to the ceilings. There was no broken furniture nor remnants of belongings hidden amidst the rubble, and I found myself wondering if it had ever been anything more than this. Had the Separatists built it solely to be abandoned; its fate preordained to ruin from the start purely to act as camouflage for what horrors lay below? I wanted to hate them for it but knew it was fueled by naivety; knew that far more had been wasted for less in this war on both sides and that even more would be lost before there would be any hope of armistice.

Only after Echo stood did I move to regain my footing as well, body still hunched forward in that instinctive drive to hide as we searched each room in turn. When he paused in what must have been the central chamber, attention trained in the corner just to the right of the doorway, I stepped back toward the hall, carefully watching for any signs of encroaching danger, my own pistols at the ready.

“We’re heading in.” Echo stated seconds before the hiss of an airlock screamed through the tense silence.

“Copy.” Crosshair replied shortly. He hated this. I knew he hated this: being forced to wait behind as we tread beyond his sight, beyond his reach should something go wrong, and my heart ached knowing there was no comfort I could offer as I turned to follow his brother down the narrow porthole into what was surely a maze of identical passages designed to be inescapable.

No veneer of color was granted to bare metal walls and exposed purlins overhead, and what few lights flickered within granted only fleeting glimpses of the lifeless passageways. This place was not created for comfort. Every detail was made through cruel intent to rob those trapped here of even the thought of warmth, and I couldn’t force the memory of that filth-stained cell from my mind; the scent of stale moisture and blood and rot.

My stride must have faltered; my pace slowed or breath hitched. Something drew Echo’s attention back to me, and shame sank into my gut like something rancid and squirming, and I couldn’t find the strength to push it back in time to dismiss it entirely.

“You alright?” He whispered it, body leaning carefully over mine as though he could hide me from the nightmare surrounding us, and I hated the fact that I couldn’t bring myself to answer him directly.

“Let’s just get Hunter and the damn politician, and get out of here.” I nearly growled. He hesitated a moment longer, and I wanted to yell; to shout that there wasn’t time for this, to berate myself for causing even this short delay, shoulders pulling back with a determination fueled by the rage I felt toward myself for my weakness. He drew a slow breath before wrenching his focus back toward the long hallway, and a shaky sigh of relief escaped me.

I wouldn’t have noticed the port had Echo not stopped suddenly beside it, needing only to shoot a quick look for me to take watch as he plugged himself in. There was no cover here, nowhere we could hide if a patrol came upon us, and each second we lingered stoked the anxious certainty that we were moments from being found, but I didn’t waver, attention shifting between the direction we’d come from and the path ahead.

“Tech, Wrecker; looks like the target’s in the far west corner. Are you guys near there?”

“We are.” Tech responded quickly. “Have you located Hunter?”

“No, but we’ll head east and see what we can find.” My heart dropped at Echo’s response, and I fought to convince myself that that didn’t mean they didn’t have him; that didn’t mean he was…

Echo disconnected from the port, and I forced myself back to attention. He didn’t say anything more before continuing forward at a quick trot, weapon held loosely before him. Our footsteps boomed around us, mocking our every attempt at quiet. We slowed at every intersection, carefully searching down each hall before crossing. It was a perfect grid, an even number of paces separating each corner for what felt like eternity.

I heard it first. It was wet. An occasional crunch of metal against meat. I knew that sound. I knew the heat of abused flesh swelling beneath the assault; knew they would kill him long before he talked.

My hand was reaching for him before consciously acknowledging the movement; a quick tap on Echo’s shoulder singling him to stop. He needed only to pause before he heard it, too, and I watched his body tense as he reached the same conclusion I had, breath quickening beneath a flare of rage and dread. Without a word, we took off toward the wretched sound. There was a rhythm to it. Two strikes and a pause. Two strikes. Pause. I couldn’t hear what they asked in those fleeting seconds between, but my mind wouldn’t let it remain quiet long enough to wonder.

Who ordered the hit?

I swallowed back the bile that tasted too akin to rancid water.

We barely slowed at crossings now, nearly sprinting through the underground base.

Who placed the bombs?

Two strikes. I could hear him cough in the brief silence that followed, heard the splatter of liquid against metal and knew it was blood.

Echo looked over his shoulder to catch my gaze, to make sure I was ready, before tearing through the door. An alarm blared. The lights flashed a deep red that paled beneath the blue of our blaster fire filling the small cell. His armor was gone, blacks torn where they’d snagged on metal fists. I didn’t count them, nor did I need my overlay’s targeting system as Echo and I stormed the room, both strafing the enemy units in a frenzied rush.

I vaguely noticed the lethal elegance of the man beside me as he dove between a pair of B2s, rolling to his feet behind them, pistol already raised and firing before he’d come to a stop. I ducked to the side just as another droid raised its arm, the wall behind me hissing as metal melted beneath the powerful, crimson shots. It didn’t get the chance to fire again, and I watched with eager satisfaction as the towering machine fell heavily to the floor.

It took mere seconds. I didn’t have time to find a new target before Echo felled the few remaining enemies, sparing only a fleeting thought toward a figure among the metal corpses that was far too soft to belong among the droids, nor did I pause to wonder if it had been my shot or Echo’s that claimed their life. Whoever they were, I was too happy to leave them to rot among the destruction they sowed, attention training instead on Hunter.

Already, Echo was working to sever the bounds securing his wrists to the metal slab behind him, and I rushed forward to catch him as his first arm fell free, wincing at the stifled groan my touch drew from him.

“T… took yuh… long ‘nough.” He slurred, jaw barely moving around the strained words.

“Not our fault you let yourself get caught at a kriffing black site.” Echo retorted, already working on his other wrist.

“S… st’nned m…” His reply broke into an agonizing flurry of coughs, thick drops of crimson smearing across my chest plate.

“Alright, enough – you can make all the excuses you want after I patch you up,” I interrupted, a gentle warning in my hushed voice, “For now, just try to slow your breathing and stay awake, alright?” His head shifted toward me in silent consent, and my worry spiked. He was barely recognizable from the sickeningly wrong angle of his nose, and already his eyes were nearly swollen shut. His ribs were far worse off, however. I could see the heavy bruising through tears in his shirt, could hear the rattle in his every hitched, shallow breath.

“I presume the alarm indicates that you’ve found Hunter?” Tech asked just as the other shackle clicked open. Hunter fell against me with a choked grunt, and I tried not to imagine the pain shooting through his torso.

“Easy; just sit back.” I murmured softly, carefully guiding him to the ground.

“Yeah. He’s hurt, but Doc’s with him.” Echo responded, already treading back toward the door to watch for incoming troops. He paused briefly at the figure lying amongst the droids, but I didn’t see what he did, attention devoted to helping the wheezing man before me.

“Hunter, I want you to focus on me for a bit, okay?” My voice left in a whisper void of the urgency with which I dug through my bag. He hummed some manner of a reply, but I couldn’t make out anything akin to actual speech.

“We located the prisoner, but… it seems we were only given a portion of the information regarding this mission.” I had to stifle a surge of frustration that I could hear mirrored in Tech’s clipped statement as my scanner buzzed to life.

“Great.” Echo groaned.

“We’ll rendezvous at the Marauder and discuss how to proceed. Crosshair, is-” He was interrupted by a violent shockwave tearing through the base.

“That… wasn’t me.” Wrecker said hesitantly after a moment of tense silence.

“All clear.” I nearly scoffed at the haughty pride in Crosshair’s voice before returning my attention to the scan results, stomach twisting as I read over his injuries.

“Looks like you’re gonna live, Sarg.” I managed to tease softly despite my own dread, earning a groan heavy with mock disappointment. “You’re going to be pissing blood for a week, though.” He let out an even less thrilled grunt that drew a quiet chuckle from me. “How about I get some pain killers in you, and you let me help you back to the ship?” His eyelids shifted but weren’t able to fully open. Still, he offered no objection when I laid an autoinjector against his neck, and my worry grew at how quickly his body went limp.

“How is he?” Echo asked, voice tense as he walked back toward us. My gaze caught on a sack thrown over his shoulder. “His armor.” He explained, much to my relief. They hadn’t had him long, so it shouldn’t have surprised me that they wouldn’t have had time to dispose of it, but it was still a stroke of luck that he was able to find it so easily.

“He’ll be alright… but we should hurry.” Even through our opaque visors, I knew he felt the intensity with which I held his gaze, that he understood the truth behind my carefully even reply. He gave a small nod and dropped to a knee at Hunter’s other side.

“Hey, brother, think you can hold on to me?” My lips pulled into a small smile at the gentleness of Echo’s deep voice, the care in his movements as he eased Hunter’s arm over his shoulders. I threw my bag back on and followed suit with his other arm.

“Mmm… m’alri’.” His dismissal faded into a barely audible mumble as we pulled him upright, head slumping toward his chest.

“Those drugs won’t last long.” I warned quietly. Again, Echo responded with a short nod, and, together, we began the lock trek back toward an exit I doubted I’d ever find without him.

Next Chapter

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[druidshollow]

Rivers is reminded of his past when Canopy tries to help him hide the scars from Dune's attack.

ive been in kinda a bummer mood lately so have a bummer comic lol. been there rivers i get it