#i just do not have the aim to be a good scout

[blu-s0da]

I have learned how to rocket jump! Kind of.

I like to delude myself into thinking I'm improving

[icewindandboringhorror]

It's always interesting to hear about people's weird/unexpected "alternate life paths". Like, something that you could have done with your life, a job you almost took, a school you almost went to, etc - that was still actually realistic enough that it could have happened, but NOW it seems to not suit your current personality.

Like for example, I currently hate advertising (how manipulative it is, brands trying to be 'relatable', social media amplifying it to an obnoxious extreme, etc.) so much that even seeing a little ad before a youtube video is grating to even witness, but there was a point in time where I was genuinely seriously considering going into marketing/making commercials as a career lol. Or like, I have a relative who was very inclined to be a pastor when they were younger, even though today they're a super strong atheist, etc. etc.

[felikatze]

ISAT and Ludonarrative Harmony: Combat is a Storytelling Tool

Or: How Siffrin is stuck in the endgame grind, forever

Please Note: This is primarily aimed at an audience that already played In Stars and Time, because I am bad at explaining things, and it's good to already know what the fuck I'm talking about. I tend to only bring up game elements as I want to talk about them.

Spoilers for.... all of ISAT! Especially Act 5!

(image to show how i feel posting this and as an attention grabber over my wall of text)

To pull a definition of ludonarrative harmony out of a hat, game writer Lauryn Ash defines it as follows:

Ludonarrative harmony is when gameplay and story work together to create a meaningful and immersive experience. From a design implementation perspective, it is the synchronized interactions between in-game actions (mechanics) and in-world context (story).

It is, generally speaking, how well game mechanics work hand in hand with the story. I, personally, think ISAT is an absolute masterclass of it, so I want to take a look at how ISAT specifically uses its battle system to emphasize Siffrin's character arc and create organic story moments. I want you to keep this in mind when I talk here.

So, skills, right? If you've played any turn-based RPG, you know your Fire spells, your "BACKSLASH! AIRSLASH! BACKSLASH!" and the many ways to style those.

Well, what does casting "Fire" say about your character? Not all that much, does it? Perhaps you'll have typical divisions. The smart one is the mage, the big brawny one is your tank, the petite one's the healer. And that's the barebones of ISAT's main party, but it's much more than that.

Every character's style of combat tells you something about them. Odile, the Researcher, is the most well-travelled and knowledgable of the bunch. She's the one with the expertise to keep a cool head and analyze the enemy, yet also able to use all three of the Rock-Paper-Scissors craft types.

To reflect her analytical view of things, all her skill names are just descriptive, the closest to your most bog-standard RPG. "Slow IV" or "Paper III" serve well to describe their purpose. The high number of the skills gives the impression there were three other Slow skills beforehand - fitting, considering the party starts at level 45, about to head into the final dungeon. She's also the oldest, so she's the slowest of the bunch.

Isabea, the Fighter, has all his skills in exclamation points. "YOUR TURN!!!" "SO WEAK!!!" "SMASH!!!" they're straightforward, but excited. He's a purposefully cheerfull guy, so his skills revolve around cheering on his allies. He's absolutely pumped to be here, and you see that from his skill names alone.

Mirabelle, the Housemaiden, is an interesting case. She's by all means the true protagonist of this tale - She's the one "Chosen by the Change God," the only one who survived the King's first attack, the only one immune to his ability to freeze time, the only dual-craft type of the game - just a lot of things. And her skill names reflect that facade she puts on herself - she can do this, she can win! She has to believe it, or else she starts doubting. This is how you get "Jolly Round Rondo" and "Mega Sparkle Heal" or "Adorable Moving Cure." She's styled every bit a sailor scout shojo heroine, and her moveset replicates the naming conventions of "In the name of the moon, I'll punish you!"

Even Bonnie, the Kid, who can't be controlled in combat, has named craft skills. And they very much reflect that Bonnie is, well, a kid. "Wolf Speed Technique" or "Thousand Blows Technique" are very much the phrasings of a child who learned one complicated word and now wants to use it in everything to seem cooler than they are, which is none, because they're twelve.

Siffrin's skills are all puns.

You have an IMMEDIATE feel for personality here. Between "Knife to Meet You!" and "Too Cleaver by Half," you know Siffrin's the type to always crack a joke no matter the situation, slinging witticisms around to put Sonic the Hedgehog to shame. It's just such a clever way to establish character using a game mechanic as old as the entire history of RPGs.

This is only the baseline of the way the combat system feeds into the story, though.

The timeloop, of course, feeds into it. Siffrin is the only character who retains experience upon looping, whereas all other characters are reset to their base level and skills. And it sucks (affectionate).

You're extremely likely to battle more often the earlier in the game you are - after all, you need the experience (for now.) Every party member contributes, and Siffrin isn't all that strong on their own, since they focus on raw scissor type damage with the addition of one speed buff. (Of course it's a speed buff. They're a speedy fucker. Just look at him).

At first, the difference in level between Siffrin and the rest of the group is rather negligible. Just a level or two. Just a bit more speed and attack. And then Siffrin grows further and further apart. Siffrin keeps learning new skills. He gets a healing skill that doubles as an attack boost, taking away from both Mirabelle's and Isabeau's usefullness. He gets Craft skills of every type that even give you two jackpot points instead of one - thus obliterating Odile's niche. Siffrin turns into a one-person army capable of clearing most encounters all on their own.

Siffrin's combat progression is an exact mirror of story progression - as their experience inside the loops grows, they also grow further and further away from their party. The party seems... weaker, slower, clumsier. Always back at their starting point, just as all of their character arcs are reset each loop. Never advancing, always stagnant. And you have Siffrin as the comparison post right next to them.

I also want to point out here a change from Act 2 to Act 3 - Siffrin's battle portrait. He stops smiling.

Battles keep getting easier. This is true both for the reason that Siffrin keeps growing stronger even when all enemies stay the same, but also for the reason that you, the player, learn more about the battle system and the various encounters, until you've learned perfect boss clear strategies just from repetition. Have you ever watched a speedrunner play Pokemon? They've played this game so many times, they could do it blindfolded and sleeping. Your own knowledge and Siffrin's new strength work in tandem to trivialize the game's entire combat system as the game progresses.

(Is it still fun? Playing it over, and over, and over again? Is it?)

You and Siffrin are in sync, your experience making everything trivial.

As time goes on, Siffrin grows to care less and less about performing right for their party and more and more about going fast. A huge moment in his character is marked by the end of Act 3; because of story events I won't delve too deeply into, Siffrin has grown afraid of trying something new. And his options of escape are closing in. They need an answer, and they need it fast. He doesn't have the time or patience to dumb himself down, so you unlock one new skill.

It doesn't occur with level up, or with a quest, or anything at all. At the start of Act 4, it simply appears in Siffrin's Craft skills.

(Just attack.)

No pun. No joke. Just attack. Once you notice, the effect is immediate - here you have it, a clear sign of how jaded Siffrin has become, right at every encounter. And it's a damn good attack, too! The only available attack in the game that deals "massive" damage against all enemies. Because it doesn't add any jackpot points (at least, it's not supposed to), you set up a combo with everybody else, but Siffrin simply tears away at the enemy with wild abandon. Seperated from the rest of the party by the virtue of no longer needing to contribute to team attacks (most of the time. It's still useful if they do, though).

Once again, an aspect of the battle system enhances the degree of separation between Siffrin and the static characters of his play. You're incentivized to separate him, even.

Additionally, there are two more skills to learn. They're the only skills that replace previous skills. You only get them at extremely high levels, the latter of which I didn't even reach on both of my playthroughs.

The first, somewhere in the level 70 range, Rose Printed Glasses, a paper type craft skill, is replaced by Tear You Apart. It's still a pun about paper, but remarkedly more vicious.

The second is even more on the nose. At level 80, In A While, Rockodile!, a rock type craft skill, is replaced by the more powerful Rock Bottom.

I didn't get to level 80. If you do, you pretty much have to do it on purpose. You have to keep going much longer than necessary, as Siffrin is just done. And the last skill he learns is literally called Rock Bottom.

What do I even need to say, really.

Your party doesn't stay static forever, though.

By doing their hangout quests, side quests throughout the loops that result in Siffrin and the character having a heart to heart, all of them unlock what I'd call an "ultimate" skill. You know the type - the character achieved self-fulfillment, hit rank 10 on their confidant, maxed out their skill tree, and received a reward for their trouble.

These skills are massively useful. My favorite is Odile's - it makes one enemy weak to all Craft types for several turns, which basically allows you to invalidate the first and third boss, as well as just clown on the King, especially once Siffrin starts racking up damage.

But the thing is. In Act 3, when you first get them, yeah, they're useful. But... do you need them? After all, they're such a hassle to get. You need to do the whole character quest again, you can't loop forward in the House or you'll lose them. If you want to take these skills to the King, you need to commit. Go the full nine-yards and be nice to your friends and not die and not skip forward or skip back. Which is annoying, right?

Well, I sure did think so during Act 4. After all, a base level party can still defeat the King, just with a few more tricky pieces involved. Siffrin can oneshot almost all basic enemies by the time of Act 4. It's this exact evalutation that you, the player, go through everytime you return to Dormont. Do I want this skill, still? Would it not be faster to go on without it? I'm repeating myself, but that's the thing! That's what Siffrin is thinking, too!

I also want to take a quick moment to note, here - all skills gained from hangouts have art associated with them, which no other skills do. This feature, the nifty art, hammers home these as "special" skills, besides just how they're unlocked.

Siffrin also has one skill with associated art.

Yeah, you guessed it, it's (Just attack.)

At first, helping the characters is tied to a hefty in-game reward, but that reward loses its value, and in return devalues helping Siffrin's friends every loop. It's too tedious for a skill that'll make a boss go by one turn faster. You, the player, grow jaded with the battle system. Grinding experience isn't worth it, everybody's highest levels are already recorded. Fighting bosses isn't worth it, it's much faster to loop forward.

Isn't this what all endgame in video games looks like? You already beat the final boss, and now... what challenge is left? Is there a point to keep playing? Most games will have some post-game content. A superboss to test your skills against, but ISAT doesn't have any of that. You're forever left chasing to the post-game. That's the whole point - to escape the game.

As most games get more difficult as time passes, ISAT only gets easier. The game becomes disinterested in expanding its own mechanics just as I ran out of new things to fight after 100%-ing Kingdom Hearts 3. Every encounter becomes a simple game of "press button to win."

The final boss just takes that one up a notch.

Spoilers for Act 5 ahead boys!

In Act 5, Siffrin utterly loses it. His last possible hope for escape failed him, told him there's nothing she can do, and Siffrin is trapped for eternity. So of course, they go insane and run up the entire House without their party.

This just proves what you already knew - you dont need the party to proceed. Siffrin alone is strong enough. And here, Siffrin has entirely shed the facade of the jokester they used to be. Every single skill now follows the (Just attack.) naming conventions. Your skills are: (Paper.) (Rock.) (Scissors.) (Breathe.)

To the point. Not a moment wasted, because Siffrin can't take a moment longer of any of this. Additionally, his level is set to 99 and his equipment becomes fixed. You can't even pick up items anymore! Not that you needed them at this point anyway, right? Honestly, I never used any items besides the Salty Broth since Act 2, so I stopped picking items up a long time ago. Now you just literally can't.

Something I've not talked about until now - one of the main equipment types in this game are Memories, gained for completing subquests or specific interactions and events. They all by and large have little effects - make Odile's tonics heal more, or have Mirabelle cast a shield at the start of combat. For the hangout events, you also gain an associated memory that boosts the characters' stats by 30. It lets them keep up with Siffrin again! A fresh wind! Finally, your party members feel on par with you again!

...For a time. And just like that, they're irrelevant again, just as helping them gave Siffrin a brief moment of hope that the power of friendship could fix everything.

In Act 5, your memory is set to "Memory of Emptiness." It allows you to loop back in the middle of combat. You literally can't die anymore. Not that Siffrin could've died by this point in the first place, unless you forgot about the King's instant-kill attack. This one memory takes away the false pretense that combat ever had any stakes. Siffrin's level being set to 99 means even the scant exp you get is completely wasted on them. All stakes and benefits from combat have been removed. It has become utterly pointless.

Frustrating, right? It's an artistic frustration, though. It traps you right here in Siffrin's shoes, because he hates that all these blinding Sadnesses are still walking around just as much. It all inspires just a tiny fraction of that deep rolling anger Siffrin experiences here in the player.

And listen, it was cathartic, that one time Siffrin snapped and stabbed the tutorial Sadness, wasn't it? Because who enjoys sitting through the tutorial that often? Siffrin doesn't. I don't, either.

So, since combat is an useless obstacle now meant to inspire frustration, what do you do for a boss? You can't well make it a gameplay challenge now, no. The bosses of Act 5 are an emotional challenge: a painful wait.

First, Siffrin fights the King, alone. This is already nervewracking because of one factor - in every other run, you need Mirabelle's shield skill, or else you're scripted to die. You're actually forced to fight the King multiple times in Act 3, and have to do it at least once in Act 4, though you'll likely do it more. Point is: you know how this fight works.

You know Siffrin's fight is doomed from the outset, but all you can do is keep slinging attacks. Siffrin is enough of a powerhouse to take the King's HP down, what with the healing and buff skills they have now, not to even mention you can just go all in on damage and then loop back.

(And no matter which way you play it, whether you just loop or use strategically, it reflects on Siffrin, too. Has he grown callous enough not even death will stop their mission? Or does he still avoid pain, as much as he can?)

This fight still allows you the artifice of even that much choice, not that it matters. The other shoe drops eventually - Siffrin becomes slower, and slower. Unsettling, considering this game works on an Action Gauge system. You barely get turns anymore. The screen gets darker, and darker. Until Siffrin is frozen in time, just as you knew he had to be, because you know how this encounter works, know it can't be cleared without Mirabelle.

And, then, a void.

Siffrin awakens to nothingness. The only way to tell you've hit a wall is if Siffrin has no walking animation to match your button inputs. You walk, and walk, until you're approached by.... you. The next enemy encounter of the game, and Siffrin's absolute lowest point: Mal Du Pays.

Or, "Homesickness," in english. If you know the game, you know why it's named this, but that's not the point at the moment.

Thing is, where you could damage the King and are damaged in turn, giving you at least a proper combat experience, even if its doomed to fail, Mal Du Pays has no such thing.

You can attack. You can defend. But it is immune to all attacks. And in return, it does nothing. It's common, at least, for undefeatable enemies to be a "survive" challenge, but nope. The entire fight is "press button and wait." Except, remember the previous fight against the King? The entire time, you were waiting for the big instant death attack to drop. That feeling, at least for me, carried forward. I was incredibly on edge just waiting for the other shoe to drop. And, as is a pattern, Siffrin is, too. As Siffrin's attacks fail to connect, they start talking to Mal Du Pays.

But he gets no response, as you get no attacks to strategize around. The wait for anything to happen is utterly agonizing. You and Siffrin are both waiting for something to happen. This isn't a fight. It just pretends to be. It's an utter rugpull, because Siffrin was so undefeatable for most of Act 4 and all of Act 5 so far. It's kind of terrifying!

and it does. It finally does something. Ma Du Pays speaks, in the voice of Siffrin's friends, listing out their deepest fears. I think it's honestly fantastic. You're forced to just sit here and listen to Siffrin's deepest doubts, things you know the characters could not say because it references the timeloops they're all utterly unaware of. This is all Siffrin, talking to himself. And all you, all Siffrin, can do, is keep wailing away on the enemy to no effect whatsoever.

So of course this ends with Siffrin giving up. What else can you do?

And then Siffrin's friends show up and unfreeze them and it's all very cool yay. The pure narrative scenes aren't really the main focus but I want to point out here:

A) Mirabelle is in the first party slot here, referencing how she's the de facto protagonist, and Bonnie fills in the fourth slot left empty, which shows all characters uniting to save Siffrin

B) this is the only instance of the other party members having act specific battle icons: they're all smiling brightly, further pushed by the upbeat music

C) the reflecting shield Mirabelle uses to freeze the King uses a variation of her hangout skill cut in, marking it as her true "final" skill and giving the whole fight a more climatic feeling.

It's also a short gameplay sequence with Siffrin utterly uninvolved in the battle. You can't even see them onscreen. But... it feels warm, doesn't it? Everybody coming together. Siffrin doesn't have to fight anymore.

At last, the King is defeated. Siffrin and co. make for the Head Housemaiden, to have her look at Siffrin's sudden illness. Siffrin is utterly exhausted, famished, running a fever. And this isn't unexpected - after all, their skills in Act 5 had no cooldown. For context, instead of featuring any sort of MP system, all skills work on a cooldown basis, where a character can't use it for a certain number of turns. The lowest cooldown is actually Siffrin's Knife to Meet You, which has a cooldown of 1. In universe, this is reasoned as the characters needing a break from spamming craft in order to not exhaust themselves.

Siffrin's skills in Act 5 having no cooldown/being infinitely spammable isn't a sign of their strength - it's a sign that he refuses to let himself rest in order to rush through as fast as possible.

Moving on, Siffrin panics when seeing the Head Housemaiden, because seeing her means one thing: the end. Prior to this in the game, every single time you beat the King, the loop ends when you talk to the Head Housemaiden.

Reality breaks down, the whole shebang. It's here that Siffrin realizes - they don't want the loops to end, because the end of their journey means their family will leave, and he'll be alone again. The happiest time of his life will be over.

Siffrin goes totally ballistic, to say the least.

As it turns out (and was heavily foreshadowed narratively), Siffrin has been using Wish Craft to subconciously cause the timeloop because of their abandonment issues. It's rather predictable if you paid attention to literally anything, but it's extremely notable how heavily Siffrin is paralleled to the King, the antagonist they swore to kill by themself at the start of Act 5. The King wants to freeze Vaugarde in time because it is, in his mind, "perfect," for accepting him after he lost his home - a backstory he shares with Siffrin.

Siffrin has become the exact antagonist he swore to kill, and it's shown by how the next fight utterly flips everything on its head.

Siffrin is the final boss.

In a towering form made of stars, Siffrin looks down at their friends. His face is terrified, because of his internal conflict; he can't hurt his friends, but he can't let them go, either. The combat prompt is simply changed to "END IT!"

This fight is similar to the previous, in that you just need to wait a certain number of turns until its over. However, this time, it's not dreadful suspense. It's... confusion, and hesitance.

You have two options for combat: Attack your friends, or attack yourself.

And... you don't really want to do either, I think. I certainly don't. But what else can you do? It's Siffrin's desires clashing in full force. Attack your friends, and force them to stay? Or attack yourself, and let them go safely without you?

Worth noting, here - when you attack Siffrin's friends, you can't harm them. Isabeau will shield all attacks. And when you attack yourself, Mirabelle will heal you back to full. And the friends don't... do anything, either. How could they? Occasionally, Mirabelle heals you and Isabeau shouts words of motivation, but the main thing is...

(Your friends don't know what to do.)

None of them want to harm Siffrin. Both sides simply stare at each other, resolute in their conviction but unwilling to end it with violence. It's of note that this loop, the last one, is the only loop where the King isn't killed. Just frozen. And now here is Siffrin, clamoring for the same eternity the King was. Of course everything ends in a tearfilled conversation as Siffrin sees their friends won't leave him, even after the journey ends, but I still have to appreciate this moment.

Siffrin is directly put in the position with their friends as his enemies, forced to physically reckon that keeping them in this loop is an act of violence, against both their friends, and against himself.

It's a happy ending. But... what does it mean?

Of course, ISAT is obviously about the fear of change. Siffrin is afraid of the journey ending, and of being alone. However, ISAT is also a game about games. Siffrin is playing the same game, over and over, because it's comforting. It's familiar. It's nice, to know exactly what happens next. These characters might just be predictable lines of dialogue, but... they feel like friends. Have you ever played a game, loved it, put countless hours into it, but you never finished it? Because you just couldn't bear to see it end? For the characters to leave your life, for there to be a void in your heart where the game used to be?

After all, maybe it became part of your routine! You play the game every day, slowly chipping away at it for weeks at a time. For me, I beat ISAT in four days. It utterly consumed me during this time. I had 36 hours of playtime by the end. Yeah, in that week, I did not do much more than play ISAT.

And once i beat it, i beat it, again. I restarted the game to see the few scenes I missed, most specifically the secret boss I won't talk about here. I... couldn't let go of the game yet. I wanted to see every scrap I could. I still do. I'm writing this, in part because I still do. It's scary to let go.

Ever heard the joke term of "Postgame Depression?" It's when you just beat a game, and you're suddenly sad. Maybe because the ending affected you emotionally and you need to process the feelings it invoked, or you search for something that can now fill your time with it gone.

The game ends, for real this time, the last time you talk to the Head Housemaiden. But Siffrin gets... scared. What if everything loops back again? And so, his family offers to hold his hand. They face the end, together.

For all loops, including the ending, you never see what happens after. After they leave the loop for good. Because the loop is the game itself. It's asking you to trust that life goes on for these characters, and it holds your hand as it asks you to let go. There's a reason for Siffrin's theater metaphors. He is the actor, and the director, asking everyone to do it over one more time. He's a character within the game, and its player.

There's a reason I talked about endgame content. This, the way it all repeats, there's nothing new, difficulty and stakes bleed away as you snap the game over your knee - it's my copy of White 2 with two hundred hours in it. It's me playing Fire Emblem Awakening in under 3 hours while skipping every cutscene. Are you playing for the sake of play, for the sake of indulging in your memories, because you're afraid of the hole it'll leave when you stop?

Of note: the narrative never condemns Siffrin for unwittingly causing their own suffering. He's a victim of circumstance. It's seen as endearing, even, that Siffrin loves their friends to the point of rather seeing the world destroyed than them gone. But Siffrin is also told: we'll stay with you for now, but we'll part ways eventually. And one day, you'll have to be okay with it.

Stop draining the things you love of every ounce of enjoyment just because you're afraid of what happens next. I'm not saying to never play your favorite games again. Playing ISAT a second time, I still had a lot of fun! I saw so many new things I didn't before, and I enjoyed myself immensely, reading the same dialogue over and over. But... it makes me look at other games I love and still play, and makes me ask... is this still fun? Do I still need to play this game to enjoy it? Even writing this is an afterimage of my enjoyment, but it's a new way to interact with the game, to analyze it through this lens. Fuck, man, I write fanfiction. Look at me.

All of this, fanart, fanfic, analysis, is a way to prolong that enjoyment without making yourself suffer for it. Without just going through the motions of enjoyment without actually experiencing any. But one day, the thing you love won't be fun to talk and write and draw about. And it's okay. You'll have new things to love. I promise.

In the end.... I'm certain I'll replay ISAT one day. Between great writing, art, puzzles and unresolved mysteries, it's my shoe-in for game of the year.

But I won't replay it for quite some time. I've had enough, for now, so I let my love take other forms.

Siffrin is never condemned, because love is no evil. Be it love for another person, or for a game. And please, if you're overempathetic - it's still a game, at the end of the day. The great thing about games is that you can always boot them up again, no matter how long its been.

A circle within a circle indeed.

To summarize:

The repetitiveness of ISAT's combat, lack of new enemies, and Siffrin's ever increasing strength eventually allows you to snap the combat over your knee, rendering it irrelevant and boring. Though this may seem counterproductive at first, it perfectly mirrors how Siffrin has also grown bored with these repeated encounters and views them only as an obstacle to get past. The reflection of Siffrin's own tiredness with the player's annoyance increases the compassion the player has for Siffrin as a character.

Additionally, the endgame state of the combat system serves as commentary on the state of a favorite game played too often, much like how Siffrin has unwittingly trapped themself in the loop. Despite the game having no more challenge or content left to over, a player might return to their favorite game anyway, solely to try and recreate the early experience of actually having fun with it. This ties into ISAT's metanarrative about the fear of change and refusal to let go of comfort even when the object (here, your favorite video game) offering that comfort has become utterly bereft of any substance to actually engage with. Playing for the sake of playing, with no actual investment to keep going besides your own memories.

Later on, stripping away even the pretense of strategy for a "press button and wait" format of final bosses highlights the lack of options at Siffrin's disposal and truly forces the player into their shoes. Truly, the only way to win is to stop playing.

[willowed-wisp]

ghost, soap and könig as civilians

If the military wasn’t an option, what would these three men do with themselves?

simon ‘GHOST’ riley

- Still aims to take care of his mum and brother, Tommy.

- Simon Riley was born to have a gun in his hand, so he’ll be drawn into the police armed division.

- However, I could also see him as a detective who gets stuck with a Scottish newbie on the force.

- Meets you, behind the receptionist desk, he’s never been too good with women but you’d take over the conversation.

- Could listen to you talking nonsense for ages and that had NEVER happened to Simon before.

- Simon knew you were the one when you managed to convince him to not beat the shit out of his dad when he interrupted a dinner at his mum’s house.

- And when you shouted to his dad, “Stay the fuck away from my family!” Slamming the door in his face- bolting the door.

- His mum and Tommy shared a look with Simon, who was exasperated by you in that moment.

- He’s still reluctant to have kids because for the abuse he incurred as a child. So you take it in baby steps, your black and white cat is called Ghost.

- His family adore you.

johnny ‘SOAP’ mactavish

- Johnny would definitely be scouted for rugby very early on and would play the sport

- But his anger issues didn’t mesh well with it

- He sort out a place that would enforce discipline onto him.

- And he was born to have gun in hand and protect people, and his first week as a policeman… he’s partnered with officer Riley… Simon Riley.

- Opts to go into the Canine Unit, he’s tough enough and loves doggos

- You’re a civilian and he’s the officer questioning you. He asks for more than a witness statement- getting your number through his eyes alone let alone the accent

- Johnny loves coming home to you, your dog and a cup of coffee.

- Complains about house prices because he wants to upscale from an apartment that looked shitty before you put your own spin on it.

- At least one Scottish flag is hung up

- He wants a home because he’s desperate to be a dad- he’d be there everyday to pick them up and drop them off when he wasn’t at work

- Invites Police Chief John Price over for a Sunday roast

- Price always turns up with a 6-pack of lager in hand and chatting all night with you both with rosy cheeks

redacted ‘KÖNIG’ redacted

- He’s got carpenter energy- he’s good with his hands (in more ways than one)

- Has to find ways of coping with his anxiety because he’s dealing with customers everyday

- It’s easy when you come in wanting new wooden doors for your house. You go over the plans and invite him over for dinner to take measurements…

- Coz god knows he wouldn’t muster the courage up to ask you out

- You were intimidated by him at first- you tell him at the dinner table. He seemed dejected until you placed a hand on his, “And then I found out you were the most gentle person I’ve ever met…”

- That makes his heart melt- he’s been with you ever since.

- You soon realise that kids flock around him because he’s like a personal climbing frame

- Everybody in the small village knows König and say it’s nice to see him come out of the shell when he coaches the kids in football or sports

- He’s like a climbing frame

- And by your side, König realises that he’s fine the way he is. Kids were just cruel at that age and his height and build come in handy in many ways

————

masterlist

[hothammies]

will byers, the resident sniper and medic - apoc au details under the cut!

---

will's role in the party:

a scouter - stays back to watch over the area during runs w/his rifle and is a backup supply runner if need be. just prefers to scout with dustin and mike

medic - normally takes care of the group regarding injuries and medicine. is very gentle :)

the angel on mike's shoulder -> knows how to placate mike the best if mike's being unreasonable or too harsh

most knowledgable about the infection and how it works -> helps with understanding the patterns of infected people, what attracts infection, etc.

party mediator - rarely ever fights with anyone (mostly with mike haha) and is usually the person people most often go to for a vent or a rant

skills + hobbies:

best with a rifle + second best with guns! -> he practices a lot with lucas but refuses to kill animals

cook of the group along with el (taught her how to cook): rest of the party can make edible food but don't know how to make it taste good

great knowledge of plants and medicine -> jonathan and joyce taught him all they know about it (they are healers)

draws in a sketchbook that mike stole from another group for him: filled with mundane sketches from life and treats it like a daily journal

likes to collect cds and cassettes that he finds around to play in the car (him and max discuss music the most) - fave bands include system of a down, gorillaz, the clash and the cure :) he's an alt rock fan!

quirks / fun facts:

him and lucas have an ongoing competition that started with their aim and is now based on literally anything -> they've been keeping score since they were nine (lucas is currently up by ten and the points are in the thousands)

will shuffles different music in the car and observes who in the party likes what so he can make his own little mental playlists for them!

him and dustin talk a lot about how the infection works. they have some very intense debates about it, especially when it comes to if the infected still have human consciousness or not (will thinks they do, dustin thinks they don't)

--- other notes: canon will, in a short summary, is a very sweet, sensitive, empathetic and capable boy who consistently puts others needs before his own :') of course, i wanted apoc will to share those attributes, with a big emphasis on his empathy, strength, and kindness. first - i wanted him to be a medic to show how he cares about other people and how he helps the people he loves as well. it's shown a lot in the show how much he cares for people and living beings (see: his actions with dart, el, mike, feeling bad for jonathan's hand after he had just woken up, etc.) and him being a healer is very in tune with this behavior. will as a healer is very special to me :') and him learning this skill from his mom and his brother strengthens the theme of family also!

second - him being good with a hunting rifle was to showcase his quiet strength and capability (i'd also like to add that his dexterity on his dnd sheet is extremely high) -> he's a non-confrontational survivor. his strength shines from afar and is put on the backlight, but no one in the party thinks will is weak for his empathy. mike and lucas, in particular, are actually quite jealous of the fact that will is still able to see so much good in humanity and life while being so strong. of course, his connection to the upside down in st is mirrored in this au as well, where he has an innate understanding of how the infection works because of experience, observation and other story spoilers...

looking at the current poll results, it seems im going to be drawing lucas and max next :D see you for that!

[miss-musings]

"I Say We Take Her With Us": How TCW's Waxer & Boil Prefigure Hunter & Crosshair in "The Bad Batch" Series

A running joke in the TCW/TBB fandom is that all the clones have Dad Genes™️. Outside of Jango Fett himself, the first indication we have is Waxer and Boil's dynamic with Numa in "The Clone Wars" Episode 1.20 "Innocents of Ryloth."

In revisiting the episode recently, it struck me how much Waxer and Boil's initial reactions to Numa and their eventual bond with her feels like a template for Hunter and Crosshair's dynamic with Omega in "The Bad Batch" series.

Like Hunter, Waxer bonds with Numa very quickly and takes more initiative when it comes to her safety. He's also more comfortable with physical affection -- patting her head, booping her nose, putting a hand on her shoulder, etc.

Like Crosshair, Boil argues to leave Numa behind when they first encounter her and isn't as concerned about her well-being. He does eventually take a liking to her, promising to keep her safe. Unlike Waxer, Boil isn't physically affectionate. He doesn't initiate any shoulder touches, etc., and he seems caught off-guard when Numa does.

In the end, both clones form a deep bond with their "little sister," even if their dynamics with Numa play out differently. Just so, Hunter and Crosshair both form a deep bond with Omega, although their dynamics with her play out very differently thanks to a variety of factors.

While this is the gist of it, let's take a look at Waxer and Boil as characters, including their interactions with Numa in TCW 1.20 "Innocents of Ryloth".

(NOTE: If you've already seen the episode and have a good understanding of the plot and characters, I recommend you jump down the "Prefiguring Hunter & Crosshair" section.)

Waxer & Boil in "Innocents of Ryloth"

Character Introductions

Even before they meet Numa, we get a pretty good idea of who Waxer and Boil are as individuals.

As their gunship flies toward Ryloth's surface, Obi-Wan and Cody tell the clone troopers to keep an eye out for the locals and avoid damaging their settlements.

Boil, who was carrying heavy artillery, puts it down after Cody tells them they can't use it. He then remarks to Waxer:

Boil: If we're here to free the tail-heads, the least they could do is get out of our way.

Already, we see that Boil has a shoot-em-up kind of attitude. He wants to go in guns blazin' and get the job done, and he doesn't like that consideration for the locals is putting a damper on his fun.

He's also maybe a bit racist??? (Tail-heads sounds like a racial slur to me, and I've seen other comments agreeing with that assessment.)

Waxer seems to take this in stride and later, when Obi-Wan says their squad needs to disable the enemies' guns, Waxer says:

Waxer: Here we go again.

I know it's an iconic "Star Wars" line, akin to "I've got a bad feeling about this," but it's still worth noting.

The two go with Obi-Wan and their brothers to take down the guns, with Obi-Wan commenting how Waxer and Boil "wanted action," implying he overheard their earlier comments on the gunship.

The two help Obi-Wan take out gun towers and then infiltrate the village, which is deserted. They're then ordered to help scout the village.

Obi-Wan, to Cody: Send your best men to scout ahead. Cody: Will do, sir. Boil, Waxer, come with me. Boil: I guess we're the best.

The way Boil delivers this line, it sounds like he's halfway between proud and uncertain. He probably appreciates Cody's vote of confidence in them, but is also wondering if it's because they happened to be nearby because Cody didn't explicitly call them "the best."

As the two are scouting -- both before and after they leave Cody -- Boil has his gun raised. He's ready to aim and fire at a second's notice. Meanwhile, Waxer has his blaster lowered to his torso. He's not as tightly wound up as Boil is.

As the two walk through the village by themselves, Waxer starts asking Boil questions about what might've happened to the residents, whether they were killed, etc.

Boil notes that there are no bodies, so they were likely driven from their homes.

So, even before meeting Numa, we've got a decent idea of who these two soldiers are.

Waxer is more caring and compassionate. He's definitely not as trigger-happy or aggressive as Boil, but he still does his job well.

Boil is more practical and by-the-book. He's ready to spring into action, and takes his job as a soldier seriously. He also might be older/higher-ranking than Waxer, as Waxer seems to defer to him in some cases, and Cody calls to him first.

Meeting Numa

While scouting, the two hear a sound and investigate it. They find a little Twi'lek girl, whom we later learn is named Numa.

Boil, as he sees Numa: Ah, it's just a little girl. Waxer: Well, what are we going to do with her? Boil: Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Why do we have to do anything? We've got a mission to finish.

Looking closely, Boil actually lowers his blaster first, realizing who/what Numa is. But, he also sounds a bit disappointed that he doesn't get to shoot something.

Waxer immediately starts worrying about her well-being and what their duty of care is in this situation. However, Boil believes their responsibility is to complete the mission, starving kids be damned.

Waxer doesn't back down, though:

Waxer: We should do something. I say we take her with us. Boil: You can't be serious. She'll only slow us down.

Again, Boil is focused on completing the mission, while Waxer is concerned about Numa's safety.

A probe droid comes into the vicinity, and Numa cowers. Boil thinks it's because she's afraid of them, but Waxer notices the droid and realizes the truth. The three then hide, and the droid leaves.

The droid worries Boil, who says they need to keep moving. However, Waxer presses him for a third time that they need to do something about Numa. Boil reluctantly agrees to Waxer's plan to take her with them, and bends down to grab Numa. She bites him, and he calls her a "tail-head."

Waxer correctly deduces that Numa is afraid of them, as she probably assumes they're droids. He takes off his helmet, showing her he's human:

Waxer: It's alright. See? I'm flesh and blood, just like you.

The two then notice that Numa looks hungry. (The captions say Boil takes note of this, but based on the audio, I think it's actually Waxer. Waxer doesn't have his helmet on, but Boil does, and the line is delivered by someone who isn't wearing a helmet.)

Anyway, Boil takes out a ration and hands it to Waxer, who hands it to Numa. While Boil might be older/outrank Waxer, he's apparently letting Waxer take the lead in this particular situation after Numa initially bit him.

As Boil also removes his helmet, Numa calls them "nerra," which we later find out means "brother." While they're unaware, it's an indication that Numa already trusts and respects them.

Waxer tells Numa their names, but Numa continues to call them "nerra."

Boil, as he puts his helmet back on: Oh, you made a friend. Mission accomplished. [sighs] Can we go now?

I find it interesting that Boil says Waxer made a friend, when Numa was calling both of them "nerra." So, while he didn't know what "nerra" meant, he only acknowledges her bond with Waxer and not himself. Once again, he's only focused on completing the mission. He doesn't give a crap about this kid beyond answering Waxer's complaints that they need to do something with her.

Waxer stands and puts his helmet back on, as he prepares to follow Boil. He calls to Numa, who seems reluctant to leave.

Boil: Look, she doesn't even want to go. Little monster was fine before we came along, so let's MOVE.

Boil has finally convinced Waxer that they don't have any more responsibility toward Numa. She'll be fine as-is. Waxer takes one last look at Numa before following Boil out into the street.

Following Numa

Later, Numa follows the two through the streets of the deserted village. Waxer immediately notices, looking back at her, but keeps walking.

Waxer: I wonder what happened to her family. Boil: They're probably dead. Hopefully, she'll survive this mess.

Again, we see that Waxer is concerned while Boil is practical to the point of being cavalier. However, that last line makes me think Boil is starting to ... warm up ... to Numa. (Sorry, I had to.) He's definitely not on the same level as Waxer is... yet.

Waxer continues to focus on her well-being, especially with the context that she's likely an orphan. (We find out later that she's not, but they don't know that yet.)

Waxer: So, what happens to her? I mean, after we leave. Boil: I don't know. Ah, don't get any ideas. We're not taking her with us.

I do wonder who the "we" is that Waxer mentions. Does he mean his company specifically, or the clone army in general? I imagine, from context, it's the former.

I also find it funny that Boil preemptively shuts down Waxer's idea of taking her with them. He must recognize that Waxer's Dad Instincts™️ have kicked in -- probably because his have too but he's fighting them, unlike Waxer.

The two realize that Numa is no longer following them, and Waxer says in a very disappointed tone:

Waxer: She's gone. Boil: I'm sure the little biter will turn up.

Out-of-context, "little biter" sounds like it could be a term of endearment. I wonder if Boil meant it that way, but knowing his personality, he probably meant it more literally.

The two then turn around and see that Numa snuck in front of them, as she stands directly in front of Waxer. He kneels down and affectionately boops her on the nose, which makes her giggle.

Boil's a bit thrown off by the fact that she was able to sneak up on them, considering they're trained soldiers.

Numa then starts pulling Waxer, calling him "nerra" again, and pointing down the street. She runs off, clearly wanting them to follow her.

Waxer calls after her, telling her not to go that way because "that's where the recon droid went."

Boil: Waxer, let her go. Waxer, running after Numa: I'm not just gonna let the droids get her. Boil, running after both of them: I'm just trying to keep you alive! I'll be darned if I know why.

Once again, we see that Waxer's priority is Numa's safety, as he runs after her without hesitation.

Boil, like before, is focused on a combination of following orders, completing the mission, and keeping his brother safe. So, he runs after both of them.

As Waxer catches up to her, he pats her on the head affectionately.

Boil, catching up to them: Good, you caught her. You know, I have binders if we need them. [defensively] What? ... What are we doing here anyway?

Boil almost talks about Numa like she's a prisoner in their custody -- how Waxer "caught" her and how they should put binders on her. Yikes!

He's clearly getting tired of dealing with Numa, partly because she's a child and partly because they can't communicate with her. He's also getting tired of Waxer throwing himself after Numa, when they still have a mission to complete.

Comforting Numa

Numa leads them inside a destroyed house, which Waxer assumes is her home. He's sympathetic to her plight, calling her a "poor little thing" who "lost it all."

He spots a small tooka doll on the ground and gives it to her. Numa starts crying, and he comforts and reassures her by putting his hand on her shoulder.

Waxer: It's OK now. We're here to help.

Numa embraces him and continues crying. He doesn't really know how to react, but ends up reciprocating the embrace by putting a hand on her head.

Finally, Boil approaches them and kneels down too.

Boil: Don't cry kid. We'll keep you safe. I ... I promise.

Numa then embraces him and seems to stop crying. Like Waxer, Boil doesn’t know how to react to being hugged, but pats her on the back.

For Boil, this is clearly a turning point in how he handles Numa. We see later that he's still not happy about having to take care of her, but he has definitely softened toward her, after seeing what she's gone through.

He took the initiative to comfort her. He didn't need to. Waxer seemed to be handling the situation well enough. But, Boil apparently felt compelled to act too.

I imagine that, for a soldier like Boil, making a promise is no easy thing. He wouldn't have told her that if he didn't mean it, so I think -- like Waxer -- he finally let his Dad Instincts™️ kick in. He's not fighting them anymore.

And what's more is he actually one-ups Waxer in a sense. He makes a promise to take care of Numa, which Waxer never did. Waxer just said they were there to help. The wording was more general. But, Boil promises to keep her safe. It's more specific, and could be seen as more comforting: "We're here to help" vs. "We're going to keep you safe."

Side note: I do wonder if Numa is able to understand some Basic, because she gives Boil a meaningful look when he makes that promise AND she stops crying as he directed.

Protecting Numa

While they're still in Numa's destroyed home, the clones' communicators start flashing. Boil is upset, saying they'll be punished for failing to complete the mission and/or report back on time.

Waxer wonders how they're going to explain Numa to their company. He starts coming up with white lies they can tell to avoid getting into trouble.

Boil: We can try. But, mark my words: this will end badly.

Both Waxer and Boil, but more so Boil, are concerned with possible demotion/punishment.

However, they at least don't seem to be arguing about what to do about Numa anymore. They both just start leaving the home and apparently assume Numa will follow them, because they don't physically or verbally have her come along.

When they get outside, both clones take a defensive stance when they realize something's coming. Numa hides behind Waxer, telling him of the danger, before running back into the house.

The two start fighting the creatures attacking them.

Boil: You see what happens when we don't follow orders? [grunts] Waxer: Let's get out of here.

Despite having some change of heart, Boil is still preoccupied with following orders and completing the mission. He is still very much a soldier, even if his Dad Instincts™️ have kicked in.

They barricade themselves inside the home, with Waxer holding the door while Boil shoots at the creatures. Numa opens a tunnel in the floor. Waxer helps her with the heavy stone while Boil puts down cover-fire, until all three escape safely.

When they come out of the tunnels and rejoin their company, they tell Cody they "got sidetracked." Numa, who's holding onto Boil's hand, then peers out from behind him at Obi-Wan and the others.

When Obi-Wan approaches her, she continues to hide behind Boil. Meanwhile, Waxer explains that Numa knows her way around the tunnels.

When Obi-Wan asks in her language, she says she can lead them through the tunnels and even pulls on Boil's hand to come with her.

Numa then leads Obi-Wan, Waxer and Boil through the tunnels to where the other villagers are being held prisoner.

Obi-Wan hands Numa off to Waxer. When he later indicates for the two clones to follow him, Waxer puts Numa down and Boil gestures for her to stay quiet. Numa even mimics his hand gesture as she watches the two clones follow Obi-Wan.

After Obi-Wan frees the villagers, Numa reunites with her parent, and Waxer and Boil help Obi-Wan take out the enemies' main guns.

When the two clones get injured, Numa runs to them. This causes the other villagers to come out and join the fight against the droids.

Just as the tactical droid is about to fire on Obi-Wan and Numa, the villagers swoop in and save the day.

Leaving Numa

As Obi-Wan's company prepares to leave, Waxer bids Numa farewell first. He kneels down, puts a hand on her shoulder and then pats her head.

Waxer: See you later, little one.

Again, Waxer is more comfortable initiating physical affection than Boil is. He's also intentional about getting down on her level to say goodbye.

As Waxer walks off, Boil calls to her:

Boil: Hey, Numa. Stay out of trouble.

At some point off-screen, the clones found out Numa's name. I'm assuming Obi-Wan translated for them. So, it's significant that Boil calls her by name, now that they know what it is.

Boil also recognizes Numa has a penchant for getting into trouble, and tries to warn her against it.

Numa then runs to Boil, who's standing, and hugs his leg. Boil reaches down and puts a hand on her shoulder/back.

Like before, he's not as comfortable as Waxer with initiating physical affection, and he's still not very good about receiving it either. But, he's adjusted well enough.

Boil: Don't be afraid. We'll be back.

Both Waxer and Boil tell Numa this isn't the last time they'll meet. They really did form a strong bond with her, and while it's not clear when they would have a chance, they plan to return and see her again.

As Boil walks away too, Numa looks sad to see the clones go. Her parent comforts her. She calls out "nerra" to the clones several times as she waves goodbye.

Waxer, to Obi-Wan: Sir, what is that she keeps calling us? Obi-Wan: "Nerra." It means "brother."

The two clones then exchange a brief look with each other before turning back to Numa. Waxer waves goodbye, and the two clones walk off into the proverbial sunset with the rest of their company.

I think, in that moment, they were really struck by how Numa viewed them. They probably assumed "nerra" meant "friend" or something similar. They probably had no idea it meant something as powerful as "brother."

Clearly, Numa bonded with them so intensely and trusted them so much, she viewed them as family -- even as far back as their first conversation, when they took their helmets off and gave her food.

Remembering Numa

While we don't get many more appearances of Waxer or Boil, we do see them again in Seasons 2 and 4.

In Season 2, Boil has a picture of Numa on his helmet; and Waxer also has one on his helmet when he dies in Season 4.

It just goes to show how fondly they both remembered her. They literally painted her on their helmets, as if to say, "Heck yeah, we're Numa's brothers!" I can imagine them proudly talking about their “little sister” anytime someone asked about the design.

It's also implied that, at some point during or after the war, one or both clones returned to Ryloth to visit her.

When we see Numa in "Rebels," she's wearing 212th armor and even has Boil's name in Aurebesh on it. I know it's probably more of an Easter egg/headcanon, but I like to think Boil survived the war and returned to Ryloth to see her. It would explain how she got the armor and why his name is on it.

Plus, as I said, Boil is a soldier. He's not going to make promises flippantly. If he said "We'll be back," then I believe he’d follow through if/when he had the chance. I'm sure Waxer would've too, if he hadn't died on Umbara.

The three of them really had a special connection that lasted the rest of their lives.

Prefiguring Hunter & Crosshair

If it wasn't clear already, Waxer and Boil's dynamics with Numa -- both as a group and as individuals -- are very similar to Hunter and Crosshair's dynamics with Omega later in "The Bad Batch" series.

In both cases, two clone brothers are presented with a relatively helpless girl. One insists they have to help her, while the other is against it, believing their priority is their job as soldiers.

Even some of the dialogue is similar, with Crosshair and Boil both continually emphasizing how they need to "follow orders" and "complete the mission." Even Boil's "let her go" is similar to Crosshair telling Hunter:

Crosshair in 1.15: You want to protect the kid? Then let her go.

Ultimately, both sets of brothers decide their responsibility to their "little sister" is important, without forgetting their duty to each other, their other brothers and everyone else who's counting on them.

Similarities Between Boil & Crosshair

These two are definitely the more aggressive brothers in their respective duos. They both seem to have an affinity for heavy weaponry, and are always looking for an excuse to shoot something. Trigger-happy, in a word.

They're both also very practical and mission-driven. They're completely focused on their duty as soldiers. They're constantly bringing up their need to “complete the mission” and “follow orders,” even if it means leaving a girl to fend for herself. They also mention, at least once, their duty to keep their brothers safe as well.

Also, Boil and Crosshair criticize their brothers' paternal instincts when they initially meet their respective "little sisters". They protest taking her with them and/or bothering with her at all.

Later on, both Boil and Crosshair seem to generally care about their sisters' well-being, but not to the same degree as their brothers. They don't want to see her get hurt, but they also don't want to be around her either.

However, perhaps despite their best efforts, they ultimately give into their Dad Instincts™️. For both Boil and Crosshair, this seems to be when their respective "little sisters" are in great distress and/or danger.

For Boil, it's when he sees Numa crying in her ruined home, realizing just how much she's lost and how desperately she needs comfort and protection. For Crosshair, it's when he and Omega are imprisoned on Tantiss, when she has no other physical or emotional support system.

After their respective turning points, Boil and Crosshair seem to be more open to and comfortable around their "little sisters." They don't mind her displays of physical affection (holding hands, hugging, etc.), and do whatever they can to help and protect her.

Ultimately, both Boil and Crosshair have flavors of the "grumpy man who's actually a giant softie" trope, which is why the scenes of Numa hugging Boil and Omega hugging Crosshair hit similarly (at least they do for me).

There's one more specific thing I find interesting with these four characters: Boil and Crosshair calling their "little sisters" by name.

While Waxer was arguably closer to Numa, we never see him call her by name. He just calls her "little one," even after (apparently) finding out her name off-screen. But, Boil specifically calls her "Numa" in their final scene together.

Throughout TCW 1.20, Boil calls Numa "tail-head" and "monster" and "little biter." While I wonder if the latter was meant with some affection, the former two are definitely mean-spirited.

In the same way, throughout TBB Season 1 and 2, Crosshair calls Omega "a child" or "the kid" or his brothers' "little sidekick" in a demeaning way.

But, in Season 3, Crosshair only calls Omega by name. While his brothers and other characters often refer to Omega as "kid" or "the kid," Crosshair never does after Season 2. She is "Omega" from thereon.

Waxer and Hunter (and the others in CF99) can call Numa and Omega "little one" or "kid," because we know they mean it in an affectionate way.

But, Boil and Crosshair don't have that luxury, because they've only employed nicknames disrespectfully.

It also shows just how much both characters' attitudes have changed when they call their "little sisters" by name.

Finally, it's worth noting that while Boil and Crosshair were initially "against" Numa and Omega, respectively, their "little sisters" don't hold grudges.

In fact, even though they bonded with Waxer and Hunter more quickly and (arguably) more closely, the girls still consider Boil and Crosshair their "brothers" all the same. The girls hold them in an equal (or near equal) degree as they do Waxer and Hunter, despite Boil and Crosshair initially rejecting them.

Similarities Between Waxer & Hunter

Unlike their brothers, Waxer and Hunter are characterized as being more compassionate and caring from the get-go, even before meeting their "little sisters."

When he sees the devastation on Ryloth, Waxer wonders about the residents, whether they were killed, etc.

Meanwhile, throughout TBB 1.01 "Aftermath," Hunter lets Caleb Dume escape Order 66 and then lies to protect him. He also refuses to kill the civilians on Onderon, and starts to see the Empire for what it really is.

This is also a small thing, but we get parallel scenes of Waxer and Hunter noticing a probe droid that their brothers didn't.

In general, both Waxer and Hunter push back on their brothers' more cavalier attitudes toward people in danger/need.

Waxer repeatedly tells Boil they should do something about Numa, and then continues to worry about her well-being while she's following them.

In "Aftermath," when Hunter sees Crosshair trying to kill Caleb and then complaining they didn't kill civilians, he calls him out on it. He also generally confronts Crosshair about his obsession with "following orders," when that was something CF99 never worried about in the past.

Then, after they find out Omega is a fellow clone, Hunter insists they need to return to Kamino for Omega despite the dangers.

When meeting their "little sisters," Waxer and Hunter seem to be naturals with kids -- at least compared to their brothers.

They intentionally get down on their knees and talk to them at eye-level. They address them calmly and respectfully. Waxer takes off his helmet to show Numa he's not a droid. They try to make their "little sisters" feel safe and comfortable, despite the stressful situation.

Once their "little sisters" are with them, Waxer and Hunter very naturally switch into Dad Mode™️. They look out for them, protect them, give them reassuring head-pats, shoulder-touches, and so on. Weirdly, though, neither are very good with hugs initially, but they get there eventually.

On top of being more immediate, Waxer and Hunter's bonds with their "little sisters" are arguably much stronger than their brothers'.

Numa seems to be more comfortable around Waxer, especially initially, despite calling both clones "nerra" after they took off their helmets. Again, it's possible that she understood some of what they were saying, and realized Waxer was trying to help her while Boil really wasn't.

For Omega, she spends more time with Hunter early on, as Crosshair was separated from his family due to the Empire enhancing his inhibitor chip. Thus, she develops a very strong bond with Hunter very quickly. Even with Tech, Wrecker and Echo around as well, Omega and Hunter's bond is special.

Overall, Waxer and Hunter seem to be the "default" or "go-to" brother when Numa and Omega are in trouble.

Finally, I also find it interesting that the last gesture of farewell is Waxer and Hunter's.

Even though both Waxer and Boil turn back to look at Numa after finding out what "nerra" means, only Waxer decides to wave back at her.

Similarly, in the TBB series finale, the epilogue shows only Hunter saying goodbye to Omega. Even though both Omega and Hunter acknowledge the other brothers' role in her life, that final moment is theirs.

Just like Numa with Waxer, Omega bonded with Hunter first. So, it feels fitting that her final scene should be with him.

Final Thoughts

It's been fun rewatching "Innocents of Ryloth" and seeing these proto-versions of Hunter and Crosshair. I have no idea whether the TCW/TBB writers did that on purpose, but even if not, it makes for an powerful parallel.

Obviously, there are some major differences. Numa's parent was still alive, while Omega never had a proper parent to begin with. So, Hunter and his brothers arguably had an even greater responsibility to Omega than Waxer and Boil did to Numa.

Also, while Waxer and Boil definitely stayed in the "brother" category, as Numa's parent was still alive, Hunter (and his brothers) crossed over into the "dad" category in Omega's life.

Unlike Waxer and Boil, Hunter & co. took care Omega for years rather than a day or two. They provided for her; they taught her; and they cared for her physically and emotionally from the TBB series premiere to the epilogue.

If given the opportunity, I'm sure Waxer and Boil would've gone back to Ryloth and checked on Numa. Maybe, after the war, they would've even stayed long-term and kept an eye on her like a big brother or uncle might. Again, they bonded with her so strongly that they drew pictures of her on their helmets. They really thought of themselves as her brothers, and ran around battlefields representing her even months after meeting her.

As fans have joked about: put a Jango Fett clone in the immediate vicinity of a kid for a decent amount of time and they will turn into a Dad™️.

Doesn't matter if they're being mind-controlled. Doesn't matter if their priority is to follow orders. Doesn't matter if they're set to be shipped to another world once this mission's done. Doesn't matter if this is literally the first kid they've ever seen in their lives (except fellow clones).

And, even if they don't get enough "incubation time" around the kid to turn into a dad, they will -- at minimum -- turn into a Nerra™️.

[supernova41st]

I LOOOVEDD your girly reader x sniper hcs.

May I request the opposite? Like a tomboy, introverted, Adam Sandler fit and overall just a freaky ass reader x sniper? =^.^=

Gangnam style 🛹

A/n: BIG SIS FIGHT BACK. PLEASEEEE, BIG SISTER GENERAL, COCONUT, BIG SISTER. 🥥🥥🥥

Warnings: Body shaming, ‘Bromance’

Sniper

Hey, he gets it.

Sniper takes a quick liking to you. Your sarcastic behavior/humor always has him snickering, even when it’s against him

Once you were in the frontlines he almost shot you, you just had some thoughts to share <3

“Crikey! ‘pologies!!”

“Jesus Christ sniper! You have better aim when pissing jars 😒”

“Hehe, good one mate”

Enjoys your introverted side, you guys love going on road trips in his van. Enjoying the silence together is great and all, but so is bantering with each other.

“Motherfucker-no way you listen to jazz.”

“Oh shut ya yob! What’s wrong with jazz?”

“You serious? I’m snoring over here, play some beastie boys I dunno!!”

“Oh please that’s dunny music”

He hates what you do to his van, he never notices the mess you make until after the trip. The shoe prints on his seats, the empty bags of chips and energy drinks, your axe deodorant. He puts in all in a plastic bag then gives it to you lmao

He’s pretty iffy about your fashion sense, sure it looks comfy but just.. why

“Should I get the Superman shirt or the sonic one?”

“You should put ‘em both back. 🫤”

“Alr bitch”

Being a messy sleeper is no help to him since his bed barely fits him so when he invites you over to sleep with him you better be TUCKED. Otherwise your gonna kick him off the bed in your sleep

Scout

He’s so fucking confused. It’d probably take him more time to have him understand how you’re a girl wearing masculine clothing than teaching him how to read

“So, you’re a chick?”

“Yeah?”

“But, you’re wearin’ dudes clothes?”

“..Alright bro”

Okay but actually you guys have a nice Bromance. Smacking each others ass fist bump being each others hype man etc.

“See ya losers later, ima go bang this chick I met online”

“Oo, can I watch?”

“no.”

Asking you for relationship advice is like asking an Italian mother in law what she thinks about your cooking, feedback will be given but someone’s just gonna get hurt in the process

“Do I look like a guy who would eat pussy? Be honest”

“You look like a guy who’d eat anything”

“Ok ☹️”

Spy isn’t really fond of scout, so imagine how he feels about you two combined..

“Can you guys stop playing that silly game and help around here?”

“Fuck you spy!”

“Get the fuck out spy you freaking French bitch,-“

“I’m gonna kill you spy close the door I swear to god!!”

“FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU, YOU FUCKIN- FUCK YOU”

The aura you guys carry is disastrous, such loud losers..

“Guess you can say we’re some kind of team fortress 2 👁️👁️”

“Say that again..”

“Oh my god please shut ya traps..”

[paper-mario-wiki]

scout how do i get into tf2. i want to play but i'm intimidated

u can choose one of the 9 guys, and theyre all fun to play.

first guy is the fastest and jumps twice, but has low health. he has a strong shotgun as his primary that can kill people from full health in 2 shots if youre close enough and aim well enough

second guy is kinda slow and has a rocket launcher, which does a lot of damage (but not enough to kill anyone in a single hit like other FPS games, unless you get a crit), and hes got a lot of health

third guy is my favorite one and is one of the more mechanically complex. u can do a lot, but for now think of it as area denial. not very much range, but high output and leaves them on fire

fourth guy is like junkrat: he launches grenades that explode on impact with a target, but if they hit a wall or the ground they wait out their natural timer before exploding. he can also leave bombs that he can detonate at any time. hes also pretty slow but has more health.

fifth guy has the most health and the strongest gun, but is also the slowest and one of the easier guys to pick off from a distance. hes got a big gatling machine gun

sixth guy specializes in utilities. he can deny an area by putting down a sentry that fires automatically and be upgraded twice (faster firing + rockets with levels 2 and 3). he's not great in 1v1s but he can hold is own if you play smart.

7th guy is the main healer. you point at a guy and click on him to heal, but after youve connected to him you dont need to keep looking at him the whole time; as long as youre within a certain distance and you keep holding down the mouse button you'll keep healing. he also passively regenerates health slowly, but as the worst offensive options in the game

8th guy is broken. you can instantly kill anyone from any distance as long as you click on their head. not super great in close combat but has optional weapons that can enhance his survival rate when he's rushed down

9th guy goes invisible, can disguise as enemy teammates to fool them, and can instantly kill anyone with a backstab, but he's also easy to kill and has poor defensive options if he's caught out by himself.

the game is free to download, and once you do i suggest queuing for casual selecting any maps that look good

i suggest Harvest, Badlands, Sawmill, and Viaduct for King of the Hill

i suggest Badwater, Upward, Frontier, Snowycoast, and Borneo for payload

i suggest Turbine, 2Fort, Double Cross, and Landfall for Capture the Flag

go have fun. dont worry about being bad. just play and find joy in any way you can.

[silverzoomies]

Imagine quickie rails u so good u squirt but you’re low key embarrassed bc that’s never happened before but he talks you through it so sweetly and so hornily bc he obviously finds it the hottest thing in the world and he’s kinda obsessed with the fact that you just did that bc of him

…..yeah I need to know what he’s like talking you through it …….

anon, i'm so sorry. i dunno if this is what you were expecting. but i went a little off the rails. i haven't actually sat down and written anything in fifty gajillion years. apologies in advance if i'm super duper rusty. you're a doll, by the way. thanks for the inspiration !! this ask had me red in the face all over again !! 🤍 here's a short drabble for ya 🤍🤍🤍

In the boring emptiness of some secret, government research facility, soft squeals call out with ecstasy.

Hold that thought.

Aren’t you supposed to be on patrol?

🤍

Since the OG X-Men were busy with more important endeavors (another fancy gala. Huge snore fest), Xavier took it upon himself to recruit some newbie trainees. He sent three of them to a top secret facility. Super below radar. The building sat far away from the bustle of society, hidden at an off-the-record base.

It’s around one AM when Quicksilver himself finally crashes your boring, patrol party. He zips through the entire building, scouting the area; before checking in on the trainees. After sending the other two off on their twenty minute breaks, he soon finds you.

A newbie he’s far more acquainted with. In more ways than one.

But not as many as he’d like.

You look bored as hell sitting there by yourself, swirling in a swivel chair. A series of CCTV screens flicker before you. But you barely pay them any attention. Keeping your head down, clipboard on your lap; you doodle all over a security protocol sheet. Your legs kick in a childlike way.

Your first, official mission is the most lame of X-Men operations. But even despite that, you appear to be in high spirits. Peter’s almost jealous. The first time he joined up with the team, all he got out of it was a lousy, broken leg.

Anyway, you’re cute and all. But…don’t you have a job to do, you slacker?

Peter leans against the doorway, his hands nestled in the pockets of his silver, bomber jacket. Beady eyes watch you through the lenses of his goggles. His earphones hang around his neck. A quiet jam resonates from them. But you're so mesmerized by your doodling, you don't even notice.

In a flash, Peter makes his presence known. Big hands grab your shoulders hard. He leans in to whisper sternly in your ear. His voice vibrates, robust and quaking in an attempt to spook you.

“GOTCHA! Annnnnnnd, yer dead, kid! Mwahahaha!”

You swivel around in an instant. Hopping from your seat, you raise your hands in defense. Jeez! Peter's caught off guard by how quickly you react. Blinding beams of golden light burst from your palms. The same glow floods your eyes. You hurl scorching hot rays in Peter's direction.

Well…shit.

Thanks to Xavier's mad training skills, Peter's a little faster than light nowadays. And he's ultra lucky for it. Had you raised your hands and gone pew pew pew so many years ago - he probably would've charred to a crisp right then and there. 

“Damn! You got some killer aim! That was a close call.” He whistles. Peter gawks at the holes seared into the wall, straight through some ruined blueprints. A smirk plays on his lips. He gestures at the damage with a thumb, “Eh, they probably got backups ‘a those lyin’ around, right?”

Your only response is an affectionate eye roll. But Peter notes the curl at the corner of your mouth as you try not to smile. 

Screw it. You're pretty fun. Why doesn't he hang with you for a bit? He's probably got some time to kill. At least before Chuck realizes the speedster isn't dressed to the nines, bored out of his mind at the gala.

The two of you goof off for a few minutes. As you doodle, Peter looms over your seat. Watching the CCTV screens with a ready eye, he teases you about your lack of focus on the job. You're just such a supreme newbie, he can't help it.

To which you respond with a counterpoint - isn't he the reigning champion of getting sidetracked?

Touché, little newbie. Touché.

Boredom quickly makes him antsy. And being antsy has Peter's brain reaching for any stimulation he can find. Pacing the room, Peter casts subtle glances at your figure in tactical clothing. Hot damn. Black really does highlight your most bodacious assets.

Amidst casual conversation, Peter shamelessly flirts with you. And when you flirt back, he isn’t all that fazed. The two of you are always making saucy passes at one another. Horny topics of discussion happen more often than they should. You once poured your heart out for twenty minutes, complaining that you couldn’t squirt when you got off. Part of him took this confession as a challenge.

Peter never forgot how sexually charged the energy of that night was.

Or…maybe it wasn’t? Maybe you just wanted to vent to someone who would listen. Yeah. He’s probably uber delusional. That ‘energy’ might’ve come from the sunbeams radiating in your genes.

Sure. Nothing sexual.

But if that’s the case, why else are you giving him bedroom eyes - if not ‘cuz you really wanna bone?

Expelling a bland sigh, Peter leans back against the console where the CCTV screens are. He bounces a random ball he swiped from a researcher’s desk. Flirtatious teasing continues back and forth, remaining casual.

Until Peter makes a needlessly suggestive comment.

“I’m just sayin’. Picture this, ‘kay? You ‘n me, goin’ at it like there’s no tomorrow. Pretty sure I’d get you off in under, say, three minutes er less. That’s not a promise, it’s a fact.”

Throwing you a sly look, Peter smirks payfully. He bounces the ball again.

“Pshh. Not fast enough.” You mumble.

Peter’s dark gaze leers at you from under his brows.

Oh. Oh no, you didn't just...

His eyes fire across each CCTV screen, double checking for any unwanted visitors. All clear, it’s go time. Moving swiftly, he props you up on a nearby desk. At record speed - before you can begin to comprehend his impossibly fast actions - he crams six inches of girthy, speedster cock inside you. All without any warning.

In hindsight, maybe he shouldn’t have been so impulsive. But in the microsecond it took him to move your body and pull your pants off, at the very least; he had the courtesy to prep you with his fingers. And now, you’re coming undone as he jackhammers your cunt. Peter rolls into you in a blur of silver motion. Your walls clench perfectly over his cock.

You protest through shallow moans, “W-Wait! Oh my g-...too fast, Peter! Too fast!”

The tips of his fingers circle your clit, the vibrations shattering your moans. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you bring him closer. Peter shivers as your pussy squeezes him so tight. It’s an outrageously awesome sensation that drives him to drill his dick deeper. Tilting forward, he groans, his lips grazing yours.

“Y’think I can make you squirt like this?” He chuckles, his throat bobbing as he swallows down a moan.

You shake your head wildly, whimpering the softest, “Noooooo! I told you already, I cannnnn’t!”

“Huh? What’s that, cutie? Aw. Too bad. ‘Cuz I’m not gunna slow down ‘til you do.” Peter teases, looking over his shoulder at the CCTV screens. He smirks crookedly, “Better be quick. Yer teammates’re gunna be back soon.”

You tip your head back as you whine again. Peter ruts into you so inexplicably fast, his pace renders your lungs useless. His fingers keep torturing your clit, guiding your pearl in a whirring dance of speedy buzzes. You shudder, clawing into his arms as your hips move on instinct. 

Speeding the rhythm of his thrusts, Peter furrows his brows. His cock pulses when he watches your tits bounce in your shirt. He bites his lip to stifle a whimper. Below him, you try to call his name. But his powerful movements rupture your pretty voice. “Hell yeah, gorgeous. That’s it. Don’t hold back, ‘kay? Just let it happen. Gunna cum, pretty girl? C’mon, ya gotta cum for me. You can do it. C’mon.” He begs, his tone a little closer to a whine.

Not even two minutes into sexing you up, he has you gushing a spritz of luscious heat. Score. He'll be thinking about this sexy success for weeks. The corners of your eyes leak hot tears, as a rapturous orgasm overtakes you. The entire, lower half of your body tightens, muscles clenching. Your pussy pops with a juicy burst. Leaking down your thighs and ass, your slick coats his twitchy cock.

He kisses you, his breath burning hot, “Doin’ so good, princess. So good for me. Was that fast enough for you? Hmm? Oh, fuck. I'm sorry, baby, I'm sorry, I'm sorry-”

Pulling his soaked length free, he showers your tummy in virile, white jets. Leaning over you, Peter laughs again, exhaling a long sigh of elation. His lips capture yours, drinking in your kisses for a few beats. He feels his heart twist with satisfaction. All at the awesome notion that he drove you to such an intimate, breaking point.

“How’s that for a quickie?” He teases with a cheeky grin, winking down at you.

Your blinky eyes gaze over his shoulder, looking somewhat dazed. Beneath him, you stir in place. You’re trying to say something. But you’re so braindead from the totally slammin’ orgasm he gave you, the words won’t happen.

But then, Peter notices the way your glazed hues narrow. That vibrant, golden glow from earlier returns. Sitting up on an elbow, you raise a hand to point at the CCTV screens behind him. Oh, you probably saw someone on cam. Peter’s dark gaze widens. A sudden beam of light pulsates at the tip of your finger.

“NO, NO, NO, NO-” He starts.

Too late. The golden flash fires like a speeding bullet from your fingertip, colliding into the screens. A powerful burst shatters the entire CCTV setup on impact. Electric static buzzes amongst broken glass and fried wires. Peter sighs, looking over his shoulder, then back down at your cute face.

“Babe, seriously? Now’s not the time to be tryin’ interior decorating!” He rolls his eyes, playing ignorant to your shared romp in the research lab, “Hold that thought...aren’t you supposed to be on patrol?”

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Crimson Fangs Sing Me Lullabies

PAIRING: David 'Hesh' Walker x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: Ten years is a long time to be alone.

WORD COUNT: 18.7k

WARNINGS: Angst, gore, canon typical violence, stitches & needles, death, fluff, puppy love type stuff, mutual pining, Hesh being adorable, Ghosts timeline

A/N: Back to my roots with 30+ page works.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

He vividly remembered the moment Riley had alerted him on that rainy Tuesday afternoon. It was when the sky was pelting against his soaked beanie and the abandoned houses of South California were utterly silent—as still as the heart in his breast. The ground under his feet was soft, grass giving way to slopping mud that caked up to his ankles in thick mounds of flooded earth.  

Hesh had only been out for a swift survey of the area, taking Riley for backup as Logan stayed at camp to pack and hide any trace of two individuals from inside Fort Santa Monica snooping around. Seeing as Federation Soldiers frequented the area, any piece of them that was left in No Man’s Land was subject to identification. Nothing from a broken branch or a boot track could be out of order; certainly not when the two brothers were here to scout possible weak points in enemy territory. Try and find ways to slip in a fire team—give ‘em all a good scare and wipe another point off the map. 

But Riley was along because not only was he Hesh’s responsibility, but the German Shepherd’s instincts were far superior than a soldier’s ever could be. For only 14 months, the dog was making quite the name for himself around the Fort.

A chilled wind whips down the street, the overgrown road filled with rusting cars and trash which flutters in retaliation of being disturbed all across the asphalt. Rain comes down sideways in great roars. Whatever the dog had honed in on, it was loud enough to be heard over the noise of nature.

“Riley,” Hesh calls, calm and collected, to the animal that was intently staring at a large home; hackles tense and tail pointed high. Blue was the color, hiding peeling white trim behind suffocating ivy. A large portion of the left side was ripped away to show its insides like a dead deer would, which had most likely happened when the earthquakes had been rampant during the first few years after ODIN was fired. Tectonic plates shifting and the like. Green eyes narrow. “Go on boy, search.”  

If there were Federation Soldiers this close to camp then it needed to be taken care of—quickly and quietly. No time to get Logan. 

Sharp ears perk and the lithe dog shifts its haunches, raised neck fur accented by a low growl. Paws pad over the ground and twin footfalls follow swiftly after, the body of a Honey Badger Assault Rifle pointed down but ready to aim at a moment's notice.

But nothing could have prepared Hesh for what he found that day. 

—

You press to the oozing wound with a futile hope that it would stop gushing, breathing so loud it can be heard over the deluge outside this shitty excuse of a shelter. Your arm was splattering blood all over the damaged hardwood of the first house you could stumble into, feet flinching back until your spine hits a dresser in the upstairs bedroom. 

Dust lives on every surface; flies through the air as you string curses under your breath with stuttering sobs. You’d hoped that there was a medical kit stashed away here somewhere—something to scavenge that could fix the knife slice that was making you dizzy. 

T…there was just too much blood.

But after the loud slamming of cupboards and the destruction of more than a few rusty door hinges, it hit you like a bullet to the chest as your clothes stuck to you like a second skin. Everything had been picked over. 

No medicine in the bathrooms, no rags in the kitchen, and no hope of bottled water to clean the wound out. Nothing. 

“No, no, no.” You force the black dots away from your eyes, vision blurry with tears as you press harder to the gash. It squelches and more scarlet hits the floor. “It can’t end like this. Not like this.” 

All that you had were the clothes on your back and the sparse materials in your backpack that amounted to an empty water skin, a blanket, and the pages of an old book. 

Blood pooled on the ground, and you realized far later that the only reason you had heard the noise downstairs was because of the steadying way you had bitten your lip; a sob cut short. Your body stilled like you were caught in a bear trap. 

It had been a soft whistle, barely heard over the sheets of rain hitting the broken roof. Water lightly taps your head in an uneven pattern as it leaks through the frame like an ant tunnel. Blinking as a few more tears are forced down your cheeks, you slowly turn to the door that hangs off one hinge. 

Small brown eyes are already locked onto you.

Its pupils are so tiny you wondered if the German Shepherd was half snake—they seemed almost slitted as you gaped at its presence. The army green vest that was wrapped around its frame only served to make you more afraid. 

Dogs were not your friends. Not in this day and age. Certainly not the ones that belonged to the soldiers that had cut your arm open not an hour earlier in the woods. That’s what they did, then? They sicked a dog on you? 

You swallow down a gulp and stand paralyzed as the beast’s lips curled back; its tail puffing up and wagging with aggression. Your breast filled with the constant drumming of a panicking heart.

“G—” voice small, weak, you try to appease the thing with a forced smile as your brows bunch in. This demon doesn’t even blink. “Good doggy.”

You stumble backward only a single shaky step, and then it lunges. 

The dog runs at you with a gnashing of teeth and a shredding snarl on its lapping tongue. Sharp barks meet your ear-piercing scream as they echo off the termite-eaten walls. Rushing back, you feel saliva splatter against your face; a sharp snapping flash just inches from your nose. Your back slams into the far wall with a resounding crash.

“Riley!” A masculine voice yells out, followed by feet rushing up the creaking stairs, but you don’t even hear it before fuzzy neck fur is gripped in your hands. Paws dig into your stomach. Worse, fangs graze your neck as ears stay stapled to an angular head; bobbing back and forth with intent to rip your flesh out. 

You could smell its damn breath.

Straining, every bit of adrenaline-laced strength builds as a split-second to act takes form. You plant your shaking legs and shove with your shoulders—racing away before the loud thump of the Shepherd’s form hitting the floor is registered. Its vibrating growl of hatred echoes off your brain along with its skidding claws. You stagger quickly into the bathroom and slam the thin wood with a loud yell of fear, finding the rusted lock before flicking it with a floundering grip.

The barrier shakes not a second later with the force of a vehicle as you balk back from it with a horrible fear in your breast.

What would it feel like to be mauled to death? You swallow through a closed throat, seeing the door almost cave with the force behind thrown at it; eyes wide and snapping to the tiny box you’d caged yourself into. Oh, fuck me.

“Riley!” Again that voice, closer. There’s a pause in the attack, but the deep barking continues. Eyes flinching, you shake wildly and notice the under-sink cupboard not a moment later with a prey-like haze over your thoughts. “Easy, boy, easy!”

Stumbling, you whip open the small enclosed area and do what you can to shove yourself into it—legs pressed tight to your chest and grunts falling from your lips as you try and maneuver past pipes. Your arm feels like there are a million knives stabbing one after the other, but you don’t for one second dare to stop what you’re doing. Letting the tiny door shut with a bounce of wood, you get totally swallowed by darkness. 

You realize quickly that the barking has entirely stopped. 

“Shit,” hand going to capture your mouth, your fingers press tightly to hide even the sounds of your ragged breathing, dealing with both the hunched-over nature of your spine and the knowledge of someone outside the door. 

Someone who was probably going to kill you. 

Silence lingers, but before long there’s a commotion of a hand that begins to jimmy the door knob. Your ears twitch, blood draining little by little from your head. 

Don’t open the door. Please, don’t open the door. 

The door is shoved open with a shoulder, a brief grunt echoing off the air as the thing slams to the wall. Soon after, the clatter tells you that it falls off of its rusty hinges along with the muffled curse of annoyance.

Measured footsteps make you stare, wide-eyed, at the tiny crack in the side of the wood ahead of you, light from outside dim but enough for you to notice shadows as they slink past. A sigh.

“Clear.” Weight shifts, and you hear a defining click of a safety. You press on your mouth harder. “What was all the ruckus about, boy? Another raccoon give you the slip?” 

Claws pad over broken tile and you hear a nose twitching as distinctly as you can hear your own pulse in your ears. This man that was talking….he didn’t sound like the normal soldiers you’d encountered. There wasn’t an accent to his American English, in fact, he sounded native to the region. Deep of voice and lax in phonics. 

But you had more pressing matters than a man’s speech pattern. A bark rips through the bathroom, and you hear a soft chuckle as your body spasms. 

“It’s not going to be in the cupboard. C’mon, Bud, we need to get back to Logan. Time’s ticking.” More snarling barks, getting higher in octave. The door rattles as you choke back screams as dog feet scratch with aggression, making the barrier bounce with every punch. “Hey, Riley! Enough!” 

A bulky shadow snatches a limb out, grabbing the handle on the back of the dog’s vest, but it’s a bit too late for that. White fangs capture the jutting edge of the frame and rip it off its holding with a raging of metal and splintered wood. You yell between your fingers and try to force yourself away—to try and disappear into a shattered bit of drywall that groaned as you put weight on it. 

Feet kicking out, the dripping wound on your arm makes you wrench the other hand to grip at it, a vain attempt to protect your weak area at the moment. It burns like you’ve just flayed the skin from your bone, peeling the flesh like a person would do to a raw steak. 

And then the dog is reeled back with a sharp yell, “Riley, stand down!”

At once all barking and drool-dripping snarls come to a halt. Panting, you look out to the half-body of the man and into the dead eyes of Riley—a beast that glares at you despite not being able to as his front legs are held off the ground by his vest similar to a kangaroo. It is like staring into the color of dead earth and waiting for it to swallow you whole. 

You wonder if you can die with a still pounding pulse, or if your soul can dip into the very confines of your intestines until you bleed it out. With black dots at the sides of your vision, as Riley is lowered to the ground and left to stand still, you decide that, yes, that could very well happen. 

There’s a large exhalation of air from the top, not-visible, image of the man and although you don’t want to look away from the small-eyed dog, eyes drift slowly to stare. 

Large toned thighs covered in green and brown camo tucked into muddy boots; straps and holsters that drip water with the subtle shifting of hips. Yet it’s almost immediately that those legs bend as a broad chest comes into view followed by a pale, square face. 

You blink quickly, dispelling tears from your lashes mixing with rainwater as it flows down from your forehead when green eyes meet yours—wide and strangely…curious? Brunette hair is trapped by a beanie, and the beginning of stubble spread out down his cheeks, jaw, and chin. Gray sweatshirt, combat vest, patches…your eyes struggle to take it all in but ultimately the large rifle sitting against his chest paints a clear enough picture, even if this man was completely different from the other soldiers you’d encountered out here. 

Shaking, you curl in tighter and hunch your shoulders, hiding away your arm.

Hesh doesn’t know what to think. 

He looks you over with a blatant expression of shock, Riley still on high alert beside him as one of his knees connects with the cracked floor. Lips slightly parting, the man’s head slightly pulls back, trying to understand what the hell he’s looking at. 

A… civilian? This far out in No Man’s Land? How was that even possible—Federation control was practically assured in this area and they shot on sight. Clearing his throat, Hesh sees your water-wet body jerk back, impulsive fear stuck over your head. He quickly raises his hands, dropping his rifle to let it hang from its strap with a clenching jaw as Riley huffs.

“It’s alright, Ma’am.” He coughs awkwardly, watching you incredibly closely. Still not sure how to handle this. “Erm…” A glance is sent to the far wall, “My name is Lieutenant David Walker with the United States Special Forces, you’re going to have to tell me what you’re doing out here. It’s not safe.” 

Firm, yet you notice the words are also subdued as the tension in the air somewhat lessons—like a mother scolding a child that she doesn’t want to start bawling. Your eyes waft away from him back to Riley, though the knowledge that the man was in the Special Forces was startling. You had thought everyone else was dead, most of all the remnants of the military. 

When did this happen? 

Riley still stands as still as anything, watching with his lips curling every so often. Hesh notices your terrified gaze and commands the dog with an easy comment, “Hey, Riley, away Bud.”

The beast pads off with one last long stare, back into the bedroom where you hear the thud of a fuzzy backside hitting the floor and a canid grunt. Immediately a great sigh exits your mouth, crumpled lungs wheezing. The man’s Adam’s Apple bobs as he lowers his arms, lips peeling into a languid frown when his head tilts.

“Sorry about him,” Hesh says, and your shy gaze stops on his neck. Green eyes narrow on you. “Riley’s trained to flush out Feds—not that good at rolling out the welcome committee. ‘Specially out here. He means well.” 

Your lips stay shut, shifting the bloody mess of your arm closer to you. If he was going to kill you, you think, he would have done it already. 

This Lieutenant David Walker wasn’t wearing the dark coloring of the other soldiers in the forest or the towns—wasn’t wearing the patch of twelve yellow stars set into the black void of a rhombus outlined with red. 

He wasn’t part of the group hunting you down. 

Hesh sighs deeply, sparing more glances around the broken-down house and the beautiful woman hiding away in the bathroom cabinet. Even with all of his burning questions, it wasn’t safe to be here. Logan was expecting him back. 

Itching at the back of his neck, the large man mutters, “Well, I guess you’re just going to have to come with us then.” Hesh wasn’t about to leave you here alone. 

Civilians were meant to be behind the Wall, and however you managed to end up outside, he needed to get you back not only for his own consciousness but because you looked like you needed a good meal and a warm bed. 

How long has this girl been out here? He asks himself internally. 

A gloved hand slowly extends out to you and you level on it with a stiff twitch of your feet, eyes glinting.

“Got yourself pretty much folded in half in there, Ma’am.” Hesh chuckles, trying to put you at ease as you just watch like a deer in headlights. “Can’t be too comfortable, huh? How about I bring you back to camp and I can sift ‘round in my packs—see if I can’t find something for you to eat, yeah?” 

It was like coaxing a wild animal from a cage. A chained fox ready to bite its own leg off for the simple release of freedom that it would bring soon after. Hesh couldn’t blame you, Riley usually had that effect on people. 

The dog wasn’t trained to be a pet, after all. 

At the prospect of food, your ears perked. If this person had food, they had to have bandages as well—medical supplies. You glance quickly down at your arm, seeing how the blood had drenched your abdomen from where it flooded out into the lines of textile and thin your lips. It didn’t look good; if it was left untreated…

Green eyes flutter to stare at where you had briefly peeked at. 

“Shit,” Hesh starts, sucking down a breath. His fingers curl from where they still wait for your hand in his. Looking at you as your heart skips a beat from the concerned comment and the unwavering way he stares. “Riley didn’t get you, did he? Let me take a look.”

David moves closer, head partially going under the counter to carefully touch you on the shoulder, shifting your arm from the top. If it was a simpler time, you would have laughed at the sight of such a built and tall man trying to stick his upper half into such a confined place. 

His fingers dig into your flesh and with a hesitant line on your forehead, you slightly present your cut as he sends you a tiny smile in reassurance. 

He…doesn’t look malicious. Maybe I can… 

You blink away black dots and shiver as fingers close around your wrist. Holding back a gasp, Hesh’s eyes widened at the gushing slice; immediately clocking it as a wound from a large and serrated knife. 

Federation? Many of the others from the recon units come back with similar wounds courtesy of the certain blades that the Feds used. 

Digits go to dig around in his medical pouch as your eyes flutter, seeing the heavy frown on David’s face and the lines on his forehead. Ears twitching at the sound of shifting paws, your body quivers. Green quickly glances up as your hand clenches; making more blood fall out to the wood. 

“He won’t do anything,” Hesh assures you, “not without my order. You just need to focus on me, alright? I’m going to wrap this up to help stop the bleeding.” A roll of bandages escapes his pack, and he gets to work tying off a tourniquet above your elbow. “Can you tell me your name, Doll?” 

Your nerves are alight from the rough scape of his gloves along your skin, but you whisper out your title with a stuttering voice. More hushed than a breeze on a humid summer’s day. Speaking after all that screaming hurt your vocal cords. It confuses you that you aren't more afraid of this man—the hard yet sparking eyes.

Hesh sends a quick glance and smiles. 

“Well, we’ll have you all fixed up soon. Promise.” He decided fairly promptly that it would be counter-intuitive to ask you so many questions in No Man’s Land; he’d wait for all of them to be back in the Fort and his father’s opinion. 

Elias Walker was sure to be intrigued by this.

Flinching when David carefully pours water on the wound to clean it out, more wrappings come after to press the torn edges of the injury close together, white rapidly becoming red. But the bleeding would stop soon, as the tight bite of the tourniquet cuts off the flow and leaves your arm completely numb. 

Hesh licks his lips and releases your hand, moving back to rest on the ends of his feet to let his limbs hang off his knees. Looking you over one last time, the man wonders if you were a scavenger. A drifter, maybe? There was a score around the Wall, but they all got caught eventually. 

But none of them were this far out, this afraid.

“C’mon,” David stands, one hand resting atop the counter and the other still extended into the cabinet for you. “We need to get going so we can make it back before dark. Or until the storm gets worse. I’d hate to catch a cold.” 

You stare and push down your fear, injured hand held to you as the other slowly drifts forward. Hesitating over his expectant palm you bite your lip before letting his grip encompass yours. Firmly, fingers tighten over your skin and you shiver at the prospect of touch. 

As gently as he’s able, Hesh helps you out from your hidey-hole, stabilizing you with a hand to the small of your back as you pop to full height. 

“Easy,” he murmurs, watching you stumble as he holds tight. The dog stands from the bedroom, ears erect, but the Lieutenant doesn’t even look. “Riley, stay.” 

Your eyes purposefully never stray to the canine. 

The grip over yours squeezes before it’s gone, and a part of you blinks at the sudden sweep of coldness that returns to you. 

“Thank you,” you whisper, sliding your vision to the still form at your side as the house creaks and groans; rain followed by a deep rumble of far-off thunder. Hesh’s lips pull up, huffing out a single, dismissive, chuckle yet his heart jumps with pride.

“Don’t worry about it.” The man’s limbs rest on his weapon, loose. “Least I could do for lettin’ Riley scare you like that.” A beanie tilts as his rugged head nods to the doorway. “Follow me, Ma’am.” 

You stare at the back of his head as he slips past you, walking past the broken door. Blinking after, you stuff your hands into your pockets and quickly catch up with a few strides; feeling light-headed from the leaving adrenaline in your blood. Not fully convinced you trusted him, David had the one beneficial factor of being in the American military that made you go along. 

Why would someone impersonate them? It didn’t make sense, and thus, he had to be telling the truth. 

But you really didn’t like being near Riley. 

Tail still stiff, the dog stays on David’s right while you keep to the left, if not slightly behind. Brown eyes glare and rage, and you hunch your shoulders in mute retaliation, fixing the position of your backpack after it was smashed between the wall and your body. 

“So,” Hesh tries to break the tension, carefully going back down the stairs and looking back. You perk. “How long have you been out here, if you don’t mind me asking? Don’t get many civvies in No Man’s Land.” 

His boots thump while your shoes lightly press, descending back to flat ground. 

“I…” You lick your lips, “I don’t know.” Brows peeling back, Riley exits the house first, Hesh pausing for a millisecond before humming leisurely and going after—not without a narrowed look of confusion directed at you first. 

“Alright.” He coincides. Maybe you were just in shock. “No worries.”

No Man’s Land? Silently, you dig into the back of David’s head when he leaves the shelter of the house, getting soaked by rain as nitrogen fills your nostrils. What’s that? 

Feet traveling out through rubble, you side-step wood and drywall, breathing in the outside air as you soon feel the water wet down your head and clothes once more, shivering at the constant slap to your scalp and cheeks. 

Shuffling after David, you see him call above the storm with one hand to his chest, speaking into a radio.

“Logan, I’m coming to you! I’ve got an injured Civvy with me—knife wound. It’ll need stitches.” There’s a murmur from the other end, but you hear none of it above the rain; Riley peels out ahead, taking point with a constant pattern that leaves the dog coming back after a moment or two into a heel position. “Affirm. Hold down the camp until I get back. We’ll need to move ASAP.”

Digging into the collar of your shirt, you stay in Hesh’s footprints, shoes getting even more mud-cased all along the old material as you all turn into the treeline, forsaking the dead neighborhood to go back to its rotting. 

You only send one glance behind before it’s swallowed by bushes and downed logs.

The cover of the branches offers some reprieve from the downpour, but only to a point where you still were left floundering over the rugged terrain while David walked it like a pro. 

Hesh was constantly looking over his shoulder at you—slowing his pace when you got too far behind him and Riley. At your almost frigid shivers, his lungs built in a low sigh. 

“Here,” he says, firmly, and plucks the beanie off his head to wring it out. Water pools to the soggy ground as your legs slow, constantly blinking eyes looking up from the rocks you were currently intent on not tripping over. “Sorry, it’s not much. Logan’s got a spare blanket he can lend you later.” 

Pausing, your fingers inside of your pockets twitch at the outstretched article, lashes fluttering as a raindrop bounces off your nose. Cleaning your throat when Hesh prompts you with a small, “Go on,” and a motion of his hand, you take the offering slowly. 

Slipping it on, you pull the thing far over your ears, hating how your hair feels under it but not willing to take it off once the pounding on your skull ceases. 

“Better?” David asks, tilting his head as his short brunette locks get weighed down to his forehead. 

You nod wordlessly, attempting a small flinching smile in gratitude. Hesh delays his turning feet for a moment, seeing that with a barely-there flush to his pale cheeks. Clearing his throat once more, the Lieutenant clicks his tongue for Riley to continue, and offers you a hand over the rocks. 

Up and over, he helps you all along the way, suddenly not caring about how long it might take to get back to camp.

Walking beside you, you take glances at David, wondering aloud, “Who’s Logan?” 

He smiles, green roving over the terrain and now on even higher alert now that there’s someone else with him for the trip back. Riley sniffs along the badly flattened trail, though still takes time to stare back at you with distrust. 

“My brother,” Hesh pushes his hair back, expelling water like a rag, “Riley and I went out to scout territory while he stayed behind. Erm,” the brunette chuckles and another wave of thunder rolls overhead. “Don’t think too much about it if he’s a bit quiet when you meet. Logan doesn’t talk much.” 

“I won’t mind,” you also chuckle, though yours is more forced; subdued. It was easy to speak to Hesh, even if your arm was pulsing and your heart was rampaging.

The Lieutenant sends you an appreciative side-eye, smiling slightly, “Good. I’d hate for you to think he was being—”

Riley halts with a huff. 

Attention shaping forward, David steps in front of you with a quick foot, and your frozen view of the western cluster of trees is blocked by a broad back. 

“Riley’s got something.” He speaks low, deathly serious. “Keep behind me.”

You suck down stiff oxygen, body weary as you peek over to stare at the dog and his vest as it shifts when he moves. The large white lettering of ‘Beware of Dog’ on the side catches your optics like a knife in the dark. 

Hesh takes slow steps ahead, knowing you’re behind him by the way your breath stutters and brushes the back of his neck. His vision bores into the treeline, peeling back bark like the books of a page, his heart a steady bump in his chest. 

Riley continues to alert, paws shimmying and fur caked in mud as his tail begins to go wild. 

David levels his rifle to the shadows dancing, clicking off the safety with a thumb before his cheek finds the stock, staring through the scope with deep-set brows. The man waits for the beast to engage first. 

With the minutes ticking and the rain drowning everyone, you find every swaying branch and twitching leaf to be as anxiety-inducing as a typhoon; still, Hesh stays unperturbed in front of you. About to open your mouth and utter a confused plea to keep going, Riley suddenly rushes.

Pushing headlong into the treeline growls akin to a demon echoing off the atoms of the air when the puffy tail disappears. There’s a moment of strained silence right after where your legs are itching for you to run, but David stays and so that means you will too. He’s really your only chance for survival at this point.

“C’mon boy,” the brunette mutters, hips shifting weight. 

It’s only when pained screams enter the air that the two of you really tense up, a loud, panicked thing that bounces off your eardrums over and over again. You gasp and take a step back, and that’s when two black-armored individuals burst from the bushes, yelling behind them and pivoting to try and shoot an enraged Riley with blood dripping from his maw.

Hesh dispatches them with only four bullets—two for each as their exposed necks explode into crimson. Snapping your gaze away you swallow tersely, blinking as if to dispel the image from your mind. You had seen people die before, in painful and gruesome ways, but that didn’t mean you had ever gotten used to it. Lowering his gun, Hesh tilts his head at the two Federation soldiers, the third taken out by Riley before he drove the others to him. 

“Good, boy!” David praises, oblivious to your plight, and the dog trots over with a lolling tongue, eyes bright. His gloved hand pats Riley’s side a few times, ruffling the fur atop his head as paws tippy-tap before shifting to look back at you. He double-takes, gaze widening with a frozen smile. 

Green blinks at your nervous expression and your body that had backed up a good five feet with your hands stuffed into your pockets. His petting hand pauses and Riley barks. Hesh watches you flinch at the sound and tenses. 

Awkwardly standing up to his full height, his fingers itch at his stubble.

“I…” David pauses, not sure what to say to you. Shaking his head, the man grunts out, “Camp’s this way, Ma’am.” A finger points down the trail and you nod quickly, still not looking anywhere near the bodies or Riley. Or him, for that matter. 

“Okay.” Sharing a look with the dog at his side, he thinks his lips and pauses before he takes off down the grass, concern and apprehension stuck in his veins. Not knowing why, he begins to feel a bit strained.

You stay well behind him all the way back to Logan, thinking and worrying.

I don’t know this man, you tell yourself, arms wrapped around your middle and beanie heavy atop your scalp. Even if he’s nice—even if he says he’s in the military, I don’t know what he could do. I have to remember that. 

And that damn dog. 

You can’t get its eyes off of you—constantly watching and tense as if you’d bolt and he would get the chance to pounce on you. It didn’t trust you and that sentiment was entirely mutual. Pulling your injured arm closer, the image of flashing fangs is playing in your mind as you and David get closer to a dense cropping of stones and deep foliage; now it was worse. Now Riley had congealed blood dripping off his chin, all fur up to his eyes deep red and stained. Rabid looking. 

He was one minute away from ripping my throat out back in that house. 

You shiver, but not from the cold. If not for the kind way Hesh had wrapped your arm and the promise of further help and food, you’re not entirely sure you wouldn’t try to bolt. 

People haven’t exactly been kind to you out here—not for many years.

Your eyes whip away from Riley and stay on David’s boots until the man pushes through one last bush, holding it back for you as you shuffle past with a silent nod of appreciation. The presence of another man immediately makes itself known when you stare into the remnants of a campsite. 

Grass trampled to form a semi-circle, a stuffed backpack rests against a large boulder and, in the middle of the area, sits a small pit for a fire. The dig-out ground is now flooded over by the rain, creating a concoction of mud and brown water. A large overhang stemming from two gigantic rocks gives a small reprieve, though there’s little room for more than two people, and if the rain slants the other way it would end up being completely useless. 

But the figure standing under it is taking what little cover it offers. Shifting with a similar outfit to David and blinking at you with brown eyes. Quickly, he lowers his gun when Hesh calls out, “Woah, Logan—it’s me!”

Blonde hair lays flat over the brother’s head, and you instantly see the resemblance between the two in the same shape of their jaws; the angle of their twin noses. But Logan did seem to be the younger of the two, though not by more than one or two years. 

David saunters forward, hips swaying, and pats you lightly on the shoulder before looking back to send you a soft smile of reassurance. Water flows off his chin. 

“Now, let's get that arm looked at.” He walks under the overhang and bumps forearms with Logan, who continues to watch you carefully. Riley trots up and the blonde rubs his head when David bends down to grab his backpack. 

You awkwardly shuffle, still out in the rain with a cautious feeling in the back of your chest. If you could peel back your skin, you would see an amalgamation of alarm bells strung up by cords of hesitance. Who was to say these men were any different than the black-clothed ones? Could you know their character based on a simple tourniquet and a soggy beanie? 

Brows tight, your shifting feet slosh through a puddle. Did you have a choice? 

Hesh calls over the rain, peeling out a large medical bag from his pack—the white cross capturing your vision. “C’mere! We need to get that stitched up.”

Sighing deeply, you walk until the rock stops the sky’s tears, fingers twitching in your pockets and feeling quite tired. 

“Logan,” the Lieutenant orders and the blonde takes his eyes from you slowly, his stubbled skin sporting a scar up the right side of his jaw. Riley looks up at him when the pets stop. “Give her your spare blanket, would you?” Green flickers to your arm before they go to your face. “Feelin’ alright about needles, Ma’am? It won’t feel that great, but I promise I know how to stitch a straight line.” 

You watch Logan jumble through his own belongings, shivering and hearing the snap of latex gloves from David’s side. They both worked like a well-oiled machine, with gears and pins moving in stupendous arks of shared understanding. If you were being honest, it almost overwhelmed you when a heavy fabric was dropped over your shoulders. 

Fingers go to keep the blanket over your form as a small protein bar was held loosely in your face from Logan’s hands. Brown eyes blink when you carefully take the item, whispering out a small, “Thank you, Logan.” 

The silent man studies your expression before he nods firmly, backing up and taking Riley with him out into the rain with a whistle to allow you more room. You respond to Hesh as he waves you over with a hand.

“I don’t mind needles,” you admit and David listens, patting the rock beside him on the ground for you to sit on. Doing that, you unwrap your bar and hunch deeper into the blanket. “It’s the blood that bothers me.” 

You get a silent side-eye and a gentle hum in understanding. 

“I’ll be done before you know it,” Hesh offers a twitch of his lips, going to lightly twist your arm so that the stained bandage can be unwrapped and laid to the side. “Then when you’re back in the Fort I can get you home to your family. I’m sure someone’s pretty worried about you right now, huh?” 

Your face scrunches, confusion taking hold as you’re just about to bring the protein bar to your lips. Fort? Family? What was this guy talking about? 

Not noticing your look, Hesh, sets off to work, one thumb caressing your numb forearm as he sews your flesh back together. At some point, you turn away, content to bite your lip at the pain and glare into the stone beside you rather than see the crimson slosh down your arm. David wipes at it every so often, seeing the curved needle slowly bring the ragged ends of skin to a neat line. 

He does his best to move as fast as he’s able, careful not to dig too deep and cause you more stress.

You eat your bar with a ravaging hunger, done with it almost immediately and licking the remnants off of your fingers. Hesh chuckles deeply, but a part of him is concerned at the sight.

You had said you didn’t know how long you’d been out here—how were you getting food? The wildlife? You didn’t seem the type to go hunting; didn’t even carry a gun unless it was in your backpack. David doubted that, though.

“Hell, the only person I’ve seen devour those things like that is Logan.” He comments, cutting off the last suture with the small scissors from the pack. You turn to watch his face, seeing the concentrated lines above his eyebrows and the way his tongue lightly pushes out of the side of his mouth until he licks his lips. “Don’t know how he does it—they’re more bland than his cooking.” 

You huff slightly at that, embarrassment heating your cheeks as the needle stops its up-and-down motion. Hesh finishes up with one last look over, tilting his head to the side. 

“You seem pretty close,” whispering, you glance at the figure in the rain, the yellow ball being tossed absentmindedly to Riley before it’s dropped at Logan’s feet as he walks the perimeter. 

Hesh smiles, “Definitely. Couldn’t imagine my life without him.” Fresh gauze is spread and taped down, new bandages unfurled. “Feeling alright? You’re doing great.” 

Your eyes blink at him, slipping over his handsome features and the way his hand holds you so softly even if he is quite large. The cold didn’t seem to bother him at all. You clear your throat and nod shakily.

“Isn’t the first time I’ve been stitched up.” Muttering out your confession your fingers twitch as David tightly wraps your wound up, securing the end and unwrapping the tourniquet at your elbow when he’s done. 

“Really?” The brunette frowns. “Sorry, that must have been tough.” 

You flex your hand, closing and opening your grip as his own travels to the marks the ruthless tourniquet had made on your skin. Freezing your eyes lay stuck to his fingers as the tips of them brush the indents, imaginary pricks under the skin forming as blood begins to flow properly again. 

Hesh doesn’t know what overcame him to do so, slowly pressing into the flesh with a low grunt stuck in his throat. Maybe it was some ill-placed concern for you—some guilt left over for how Riley had treated you before he had shown up. The fear in your eyes when he had killed those Feds.

But you…he wanted to help you.

Unexplainable actions make your heart thump, blood rushing to your head as your limb shakes at the contact. 

Quickly, green orbs pull far open, realization dawning. Clearing his throat, David swiftly moves his hand back to his knee, not meeting your eyes as a red flush makes everything from his nose to his ears pink. Your lips part at the sight in shock, jaw loosening. 

“Well,” he says loudly, moving back to stand and taking off the latex, “that’s that. You’re all set to go.” 

Without meaning to, a small giggle escapes your mouth as you rest your opposite hand on your arm. If anything that makes Hesh all the more flustered, quickly picking up all of his supplies and zipping up the medical kit with a racing pulse. 

Running a hard hand over the back of his neck, you see David call Riley and Logan back as his cheeks go back to their normal color. Your vision narrows on him, trying to understand this individual like how you could understand the thunder that rips the sky or the blanket over your shoulders. You swipe at the last dredges of rainwater on your nose, seeing the two brothers converse in hushed voices. Riley continues to watch you, shaking off inside the overhang and huffing.

It was quite obvious the dog held a grudge for you shoving him to the ground. Warming glee leaving you, you frown at the canine and shift your eyes to the outside world; the downpour is softer on your eyes than feral brown. 

You only turn back when your name is brought up. 

Hesh stares at you, serious, as Logan goes to swing his pack over his shoulder. “We need to start moving soon. It’s bad enough to be in No Man’s Land but to be this deep in Federation territory is worse. Do you have enough energy to keep going?”  

“I…” your lips stutter, taken aback, “Yeah, I should be alright.” If the terrain was anything like it was getting out of that town, I’m not going to make it a mile. Pulling the blanket tighter to you, you ask, “How far away are we?” 

Wherever they were going, it sounded like a good idea to tag along as long as they were allowing it. 

Hesh shares a stiff glance with Logan. 

“Full day of hard hiking, give or take. Terrain’s changed so much it’s a gamble every time.” Your face blanks, throat closing.

“Okay, sure.” You don’t know when you had come to care whether these men left you behind or not, but Hesh’s caring attitude had struck something in your chest like a drum. 

Now that you had someone to talk to out here, someone to caress your wounds, it felt vile to stake out on your own again. Running from soldiers with yellow stars and black rhombus patches outlined in red. This pair wasn’t so bad, at least from what you knew as of now.

David’s lips tighten, eyes sliding half-closed to narrow on you. Green meets brown, seemingly telepathically communicating in that way only siblings can. 

Hesh nods his head, slapping Logan on the shoulder firmly as he calls Riley to a heel position.

“C’mere, boy, we’re leaving.” The dog lopes over as the brunette stops in front of you with a smirk. A silent Logan huffs a chuckle from his position, shaking his head to himself. You look up in confusion, a slow death seeping into you as a teasing expression makes Hesh’s face shift. His arms cross over his chest.

“How do you feel about piggyback rides, Sweetheart?” 

—

You yelp, gripping tighter around David’s neck as the ground nearly gives way, his handle on your hips increasing. His mouth releases a grunt though he quickly rights himself so he doesn’t send the both of you careening over the edge of this rocky hill.

“Easy,” he huffs, looking behind at you as the slowing rain falls on everyone. A brow raises, puffs of breath escaping Hesh’s mouth as he begins to continue on. “Or you’ll choke me out before we make it back.” 

You cringe and loosen your hold, muttering, “Sorry, David.” 

“Hesh’ is fine,” he laughs, turning back, “Only person that calls me David is my old man. And don’t worry about it.” Eyes twinkle. “There are worse ways to die than being choked by a pretty girl.” 

You heat, sputtering for a minute as the joke registers; glaring at his head below your chin. 

“Well then, I guess you wouldn’t mind if I just yanked you off this cliff? Pretty girl and all.”

The deal had been you would keep up with Logan and Hesh as long as you could, from then on the Lieutenant would so graciously allow himself to be the pack mule while Logan and Riley protected the both of you. In all fairness you had done better than expected—David had called you stubborn and practically forced you onto his back when you started dry-heaving on the side of the trail. 

Over the walk, you had gotten into a habit of softly arguing with the man, Logan sending back amused glances every once and a while. It felt good to speak to people again.

“Hm,” Hesh huffs through his nose, sidestepping a boulder and carefully finding footholds in the ascending ground. Riley barks from the top of the hill as if telling him to hurry up. “Y’know I don’t have an answer for that right now. Would you be throttling me on the way down or no?” 

“Depends,” you deadpan, not looking at the edge that the man walks confidently, shivering but still keeping Logan’s blanket over your shoulders.

Hesh blinks water from his eyes, glancing over his shoulder. “On what?”

“On if I can get to you before Riley chomps my hands off.” A loud bark of laughter springs from his chest, unexpected but pure. It echoes off the cliffs and the trees, and you have to laugh slightly with him. You feel his hold squeeze your thighs, hiking you a bit farther up as he makes it to the top, Logan looks at him with a slightly parted mouth before his gaze slides to you. 

You swore there was a spark of thankfulness in his expression, but he’s turning and whistling for Riley a second later. 

“Shit, that’s a fair point.” Hesh chuckles, and you notice his shiver when the cold wind whips past. 

Cheeks burning, you move your hands making the man under you make a noise of confusion. Ignoring it, you peel at the blanket around you and place it above the both of your heads, blocking out the water even if the fabric was already soaking. You rest your elbows on his shoulders and sigh, looking at your bandaged arm for any blood. 

Dark, yes, but all the red fluid was dried. It was seemingly all good. 

Hesh feels his lips pull in a heart-felt smile, stubbled cheeks gaining a sheen as you hide his head from the rain. He didn’t need you to, of course, but the action came from a place of genuine care. It felt…nice. 

“That’s kind of you, Ma’am. Thanks.” Green peaks slightly up, and you turn away so you don’t meet his eye, cheeks burning.

“Least I could do.” Your mouth mutters. “Thanks for not letting Riley eat me alive…and the stitches.” 

Hesh grunts softly, still smiling. 

“Well, I’m not one to let my dog rip apart civilians. Least of all ones that need help.” He keeps a close gaze on Logan and the canine, watching the treeline and the rustling bushes from the blanket edge. “It’s a good thing I found you when I did—wound like that’s a nasty thing to treat half passed out.” He dares to push, “How’d you get it if you don’t mind tellin’ me?” 

You noticed how he would try to ask unassuming questions in hopes you would be able to explain yourself but in reality, you were just as confused. The military was still functioning? You had no idea, stuck in the same areas for…a long, long, time. 

It made you afraid. How…how many years had passed from when the sky had erupted with fire, beams of pure light slamming into the earth. You try not to dwell on it. 

Holding the blanket edge tighter, you wiggle your chilly nose to push back sniffles and explain to the best of your ability. Hesh had called those men Federation Soldiers, and you had heard of that title before the world had fallen apart like a toy castle under the fist of a child. 

Federation…You speak slowly, thoughtful of your words.

“I was running,” David slows a bit, putting distance between the others as he watches Riley sniff an old rusted bucket stuck in the middle of a Black Sage bush. His lips thinned, and a tense feeling in his gut was forming. “I don’t know for how long or where I was going, but I knew that if I didn’t run, I would die.” Your arm was throbbing, but you only look at it and continue. “I bumped right into one of those men when I was trying to see through the rain.”

Voice dipping slightly, you hold back a squeak of surprise when David’s thumbs start moving back and forth slowly over your thigh. Blinking down at the top of his head, you pause and speak through a hitch of breath—the man mistaking it for upset and feeling his eyes crease. 

“...He swiped at me with a knife and I raised my hand up to block it. I,” you stare over at Riley as he runs next to Logan, that brown and black coat soaking wet. “I thought they had sent a dog after me when I saw yours in the house.” 

Hesh tilts his chin to the ground, lungs breathing down a sigh through his nose. Walking around the form of an abandoned and rotting side table, the Lieutenant tries not to imagine how scared you must have been in that instant. 

He moves his head and you look into the expression of a soldier who takes his job very seriously. At the intensity that lives behind his eyes—at close range—you see flecks of bark and mossy dirt; a delicate and almost pretty curve of lashes. You’re entranced by a rugged beauty as you sigh. 

“That’s never going to happen again.” Skin heating, you see his gaze search your face, hold firm. “I said I would get you home,” he declares, letting a small smirk peel his lips. “And I’m not one to go back on my word, you hear?” 

Your chest tightens. You don’t have the heart to tell him whatever place he’s bringing you isn’t your home, but you feel light at the statement anyways. The insinuation was enough.

“Okay,” you mutter, and you both stare a moment longer. 

Nodding subtly, David studies the dirt and grime on your cheeks, the weather on the epidermis in what could have been sun exposure or simple blemishes. Your expression turns shy at the blatant staring, and you move your head back just as Hesh chuckles deeply, blood pumping. Walking faster, the Lieutenant rejoins the other two with an alert eye and a soft smile as a thankful feeling grows for the blanket over his head and the woman holding away the downpour. 

He decided then and there that nothing bad would ever happen to you as long as he was around.

It’s an incredibly long walk, but when you see the Wall for the first time, you nearly fall right off of Hesh’s back. The rain had stopped by now, though the air was still moist and the sun low—giving the world a shivering temperature. 

But the Wall. 

Hesh had called it Liberty Wall in a passing comment as he had let you slide from his hold, your feet stumbling not from fatigue but from sheer amazement. It was…gigantic. Falling to pieces, sure, but nonetheless a great achievement.

“There she is,” David sighed, stretching out his arms and groaning as Logan radios in from where you all stand along the ridge. Riley lies panting at Hesh’s feet. “Good to see ‘er again, huh? Been outside for too long, I’m about ready to eat a whole plate from the mess hall—and that’s really saying something.” 

About to chuckle to himself, eyes narrow in confusion at the realization of your blank expression behind him, frozen body with wide-open lids and parted mouth. Hesh’s brows crease. 

“Hey...you alright?” Clearing your throat, you notice the twin brown and green gazes on you with a quick swivel of your head. 

The brothers share a look.

“Mhm,” you bite your lip, hands descending into your pockets as you shuffle, shoulders rolling under the straps of your backpack. 

Hesh crosses his arms as the radio on Logan’s chest statics with a garbled voice, “Affirmative. You’re all clear to proceed, Sergeant. Good to have you both of you boys back so soon—Riley too.” 

It was becoming even more clear that you needed to be brought to Fort Santa Monica and to their father. You had met Federation soldiers, were in No Man’s Land for who knows how long, and acted as if you’d never seen possibly the most recognizable landmark that had been made during the last ten years since ODIN. 

“Logan,” Hesh turns to his brother but keeps his eyes on you, “radio into dad, yeah? Tell him we’re back and going to be showing up at HQ. Ask for an empty room.”

You stare along the barrier, mind running back to all the events that had happened since the moment the world had changed, wondering. Thinking. 

If this had been here the whole time… Faces flash over the back of your eyes like a layered movie before you push them back. The trail that Hesh and Logan had taken to get here was probably only known to the likes of them—no one else, or you would have traveled it ages ago. The dark-clad soldiers were so numerous that you’d never even thought to take the main road up North, nor the woods. They were everywhere all the time.

A hand grips your upper arm and you flinch, focusing back as Hesh’s strong jaw comes into view. He flattens his lips in a still-line smile of comfort.

“Let’s get you inside, Ma’am.” His hand carefully presses down farther on his hat atop your head, pulling it over your ears once more. “Find you some less soggy clothes.”

“What about you?” You ask without really knowing what you mean, finding some strange sense of comfort when David was near to you. 

The man chuckles, heart jumping, beginning to guide you down the slope and watching you closely in case you trip. Riley keeps on his right, neck hair still bristled whenever he looks your way. 

“What about me?” He asks, cheekily.

“You just carried me more than halfway here,” you shiver and dig deeper into Logan’s blanket, “and you’re just as soaked—I don’t want you to get a cold because of me, Hesh.” 

The sentiment was true. David was feeling worn out, and some of the liquid dripping down his face was undoubtedly sweat, but seeing that adorably concerned expression was almost enough to make him forget the aches in his shoulders and thighs. He blushes and turns his gaze ahead, clearing his throat. 

“Ah,” the man shakes his head, “don’t worry about that. Could’ve been worse.” He smirks, “could have had to carry Logan.” 

You laugh quietly at him as everyone makes their way down into a large, underbridge, area made of concrete; heading quickly to a checkpoint in front of a large pair of black-steel doors built into the Wall. 

“I don’t think it would be that bad. Funny to watch, at least.” Staring at the back of the younger brother, Riley suddenly comes up from behind you, seemingly intent on getting there first. His ear brushes your swaying hand and the next thing you know, Hesh is shoving you to his opposite side as savage barks make you yelp. 

“Woah, Riley!” David hollers and your heart jerks to a ravaging pace, air trapped in your throat as you’re kept close to a strong chest by an arm around your shoulder. “Holy Hell, stand down!” 

Logan by now had turned and was jogging over, grabbing the dog by the vest and peeling him back across the concrete. Panting, you watch with shaking limbs and look down at your fingers. 

Nothing more than a large scratch across the top of your left hand, but it was irritated. You sink deeper into Hesh’s side and cover it against your chest. Green eyes jump back and forth from you to the raging canine, Logan’s grim-set face glaring down at the furry beast, putting Riley into a sit with a gloved hand to his behind. David smushes you closer and after a minute of more barking, the dog falls silent, though still glares at you violently. 

You struggle to take down air, face scrunched like crumpled paper. This dog… 

Hesh glares and clenches his jaw at Riley, for the first time in his life entirely frustrated with the animal. 

Guiding you forward quickly, the brunette doesn’t move his grip, scowling over his shoulder before bee-lining to the entrance. He speaks in clipped sentences to the guards who all know him and his brother well. 

“Take us to HQ.” You’re ushered into the back of an armored truck, Hesh taking your right side and telling Logan to stay with Riley in the next vehicle of the convoy. 

Blinking quickly, you swallow down saliva and hold your hand tighter, shivering and staring at the floor. 

“Let me see,” muttering, Hesh reaches out. “It’s okay, it’s not your fault…Christ, I swear he’s never like this.”

You shakily put your hand in his, the large mark aggressive looking but barely bleeding. But you remember the pressure of Riley’s fangs vividly as they slid past your flesh like soap.

“Ah, shit,” the man huffs, “I’m sorry, Sweetheart.” His thumb runs over the mark lightly, gritting his teeth and sending you a stiff glance. Your vision tilts as you look away, but the slide of his hold was addictive; the small twitches of his fingers and the warmth they bring. 

“Y’know,” you attempt a small, wobbly, chuff, “he looks a lot cuddlier than he is.” 

Still tense and feeling guilty, Hesh pushes forward a dull twitch of his lips; blaming himself. Maybe the dog needed more socialization if this was how he was going to act around injured civilians when they barely brush against him. 

“Yeah, I suppose.” Still holding your hand, he squeezes before stuttering nerves release you—hesitation to let you go bunching his knuckles for a second more. He liked the feeling of you in his hold, liked how your tension slowly leaked away when his attention was on you. “Doesn’t hurt, does it?” 

You feel the slight pulse in your hand, sighing before shaking your head.

“No, not really.”

“‘Not really’ isn’t givin’ me the reassurance I’m lookin’ for, Ma’am.” Shuffling out of the blanket, you place the water-heavy fabric in the seat beside you as the car flies over the ground, speeding you into safety.

“I think it would be worse if I lied.” Itching at his chin, Hesh huffs and nods, his large body so close to yours that his shoulder bumped yours with every movement of the vehicle. 

Your heart is steadily calming, and you rub at your face. The feeling wasn’t bad, and you almost find yourself leaning into him and putting your head in the slot of his neck.

Stop that.

“Guess so, but it would make me feel less like an ass.” Smiling, you raise a brow and view the way his chest beats quickly through his clothes, bouncing his vest up and down with adrenaline. Green narrows at you and your face heats. “But, no, honesty would probably be best, Sweetheart. I’d hate for you to be hurting and not tell me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you smirk, swiping fatigue from your eyes as you yawn. “You’re very nice, Hesh—your brother too. Not what I would expect.” 

Wide lids side-eye you, lips parted. There’s a second of still silence as you slouch back against the seat, placing your stitched arm over your abdomen and pulling Hesh’s hat farther down your head; even if it was wet, it had gained a semblance of a precious gift. Like a present on a holiday, one you shake because you’re so excited to open it you have to stimulate your mind with its hidden contents. 

David blinks quickly, looking away to stare out the window and see the dark sky outside and the shadows it leaves as the twenty-minute drive to Fort Santa Monica truly begins. He lets you rest your eyes, but the comment has genuinely struck him.

Nice was not on the list of what most people called him. Stubborn—a natural-born leader, ruthless, and prey driven. But…nice. He clears his throat quietly and watches the raindrops sneak down the glass. 

“You’re not too bad yourself, Ma’am.”

—

You’re sitting in a large room filled with screens playing black and white video footage, pulling at the collar of a two-size-to-big sweatshirt and shifting in large camo pants. They had taken your backpack. In front of you, the face of an older man was simply watching you as you looked around with fatigued wonder. Desks with stacks of papers; large computer data storage boxes, the entire works. One of the upsides to this, you blinked at a water dispenser and realized, was that the lights were dim in here and you were finally somewhere that had AC. 

Inside your head, you were at a standstill. Part of you thought this was a dream, was this really all here the entire time, and you and the others just—

“I think we can start with names.” Your eyes whip forward, finding Elias Walker’s cold brown stare and graying hair as he stands across from the table you’re sitting at; your feet shuffle under the wood.

Hesh and Logan are by the door, the younger leaning on the wall petting Riley and the older keeping his arms crossed and fingers loose on the collar of his vest. Green softens when you look over slightly, a comforting smile finding your vision. He nods.

No need to be worried, he seems to say, I’m right here with you.

Over your head, the damp beanie was still there, now only slightly water-logged. You pull it down over your ears with a slow grip and listen. 

“You can call me Elias, and those are my boys you met,” a pale hand is moved in explanation. He grunts, “I’d imagine you’re all acquainted well enough.” 

You nod giving your name and mutter, “Nice to meet you.” 

Elias crosses his arms over his chest—it’s not hard to see how all of these men are related, though Hesh is more of a carbon copy of the father. The older man has a calm but stern look on his face as he frowns.

“And what was it that drove a civilian down into Federation-occupied land? Past the Wall?” You fiddle with your fingers in your lap, licking your lips. Elias wasn’t one to beat around the bush. “Better yet, how exactly did you make it outside—only way out is through the checkpoint.” Brown darkens, “else there’s a breach I don’t know about.” 

You struggle to answer, not sure if you know how to formulate a sentence that would make any sense. But this was starting to make you nervous. The unyielding intensity, Riley glaring at you, your blatant tiredness. Shock was settling but you didn’t know how to explain.

“How…” speech falters, and Hesh watches closely, frowning but knowing that you had to show them how you had gotten beyond the barrier. It was a massive security breach—it was a miracle you were even alive, really. “How long has it been since that wall was built?”

Elias stills. By the entrance, Hesh’s expression freezes. It’s as if the very air flips at the bare insinuation you offer forward. 

Shifting his hips, the older man’s muscles tense, as if he’s thinking over something very important. “Ten years since ODIN struck. Work on the Wall started right after.” A silent pause. Expectant. You feel your face drain of blood; a blank horror. 

Ten…ten years? It was silly, but your mind quickly went to your age—adding the numbers together and the time you missed. Ten years of hiding; of watching rare acquaintances die, scavenging for supplies. Ten years and this entire time you would have been able to live normally had the Federation camps moved just a tiny bit Eastward to open a path for you. 

“I…” You clear your throat, forcing out a blatantly fake laugh through a whimper, “Wow. That’s something, huh?” 

“You mean to tell me you’ve never left No Man’s Land?” Elias leans forward, placing his hands on the table and closing in. He doesn’t look angry, but his tone is disbelieving. Accusing. “That’s impossible.” 

“Dad,” Hesh steps forward, holding out a hand in front of him and glancing at your numb face—the sway of oblivion. 

“Ten years,” you whisper, staring off into Elias’s tense neck. “But she died just a week ago. All this time we could have…” David turns his head to you sharply. 

It’s like time stands still in that room—a void completely separate from all else besides a brewing acceptance. No one knows who you’re talking about, but the context is little needed for the way you spoke. Obviously, you had lost someone terribly important to you and Hesh understood that the reason you had probably made it so far was because of whoever they had been. You weren’t exactly the perfect image of a natural survivalist—not helpless, no, just not like the Lieutenant of Sergeant. Certainly not like their father.

“Shit,” a hand is lightly placed over your mouth, stomach bunching in your abdomen. 

“Let’s do this another time,” David interferes, and his father throws him a sharp glance. “It’s late, Dad. Everyone needs some rest; we can pick it back up in the morning—first light.” His mouth quirks in a stiff smile, and Logan backs him up silently.

Elias stands back up to his full height, crossing his arms loosely, and you’re stuck in the well that makes up your consciousness, descending bucket being fruitlessly dragged back up by a rusty handle only to fail halfway in the air as the rope bunches. The father sighs deeply and shakes his head, giving in to his son after a clench of his jaw. But it was obvious you posed no great threat.

“Alright.” Hesh nods and walks over to you, placing a hand on your shoulder as you look up at him slowly. He plasters a small smile on his face. It looked incredibly kind—the strong set of his eyebrows now soft. 

“Why don’t you come with me?” Fingers squeeze into your flesh. “There’s a pretty good barracks building a five-minute walk from here—doesn’t smell like the others and you’ll get a room all to yourself.” Elias watches, face losing a part of that tense edge. He shares a glance with Logan and turns to resume his work. “That sound good? I swear I won’t put you up in building three.” You stare and he acts like he’s sharing some big secret as he lets you stand up. “Ant problem.” 

You spare a tiny, broken, chuff of a laugh and his face brightens. A small win.

“You coming, Logan?” The Lieutenant asks, but the blonde is already shaking his head ‘no,’ pointing to the back exit to the shooting ranges. He was a night owl, through and through, and hasn’t changed a bit since they were kids. “Sounds good. I’ll take Riley.” 

“You boys take it easy,” Elias says over his shoulder, and you stay at Hesh’s side as he leads you out of the room, whistling for the dog to come to a heel which the canine does with a lolling tongue and sharp ears.

“You too, old man. Don’t worry about us.” 

“I always do.” The door closes and once again you three are walking together—Hesh more present with using his own body as a barrier between your form and Riley with his right hand near the dog’s vest handle. 

“I think my dad came off a little heavy, sorry about that.” David’s voice brings you back, pulling that bucket a little farther up from the pit below. “It’s just…”

The sentence falls.

You bite your lip and say, “It’s just his job. Even when I think about it,” the man still hasn’t released your shoulder, but instead moves his hand to the span of your shoulder blades. You try not to shiver and fail when he listens as if you’re the most viable source of news ever created. “It does sound a little...insane.” For lack of a better word. 

David chuffs, tilting his head and scrunching one eye. “Maybe just a little.”

The man feels you shaking and he doesn’t think you notice. Eyes wide and fingers twitching from where you keep them. The noise probably doesn’t help.

Buzzing lights and conversations only a door away as the two walk down the hallway and make it to the stairs to lead down to the main floor. From there the sounds were more barking dogs, vehicles, and gunfire from the training grounds. 

This was a military base, after all, and it never really went to sleep. It must be grating to hear after the utter silence of No Man’s Land.

“...But you wouldn’t be the first, believe it or not.” David tries to keep your mind off it, keep your attention on him…but he was curious; desperately so. Yet still, he didn’t want to rush you. You looked so overwhelmed it made his chest squeeze. “Heard a few reports from Dallas before it fell—a family that had lived in a man-made bunker and were found by patrols five years in when they were out scavenging.” 

“Really?” Your lashes caress your cheeks, and a small smile comes to you. You wonder how this man can make you feel so comforted; at ease despite the dog at his side and the various intimidating-looking gear strapped to him. Hesh was good-natured, it almost seemed impossible to imagine him a hardened soldier like you knew he really was. Kind, if not a bit mischievous and blunt. “That sounds more interesting than what I lived like.”

“Well, I doubt that.” Lips perk in a smirk. “Anyone with brains knows that time spent outside the Wall is always interesting.” 

“We just moved around a lot,” you admit, “those soldiers were always changing camps so we never stayed long anywhere.” 

“Hm,” Hesh makes a sound in the back of his throat, nodding. “Could’ve guessed that. Bastards jump around like cockroaches—can never get a good hit on ‘em.” He doesn’t press. 

“Really?” You feel more present now, itching at your cheek before looking at Riley as he lopes along and watches the roads from where you walk on the sidewalk. “What about the pattern?” 

David blinks his green eyes at you, face creasing. 

“Pattern?” 

“Yeah, they shift in a hexagon pattern every month. I had a map with it marked so I knew where to set camp.” Breath stills and Hesh stares at you, shocked, but his tone changes to a serious rush. He turns you slightly towards him with two hands on your arms.

“Would…you be able to mark those points again? If you had another map.” You lick your lips, cheeks going hot as you stutter, and feel his hands press into you. His chest was incredibly close to you, body heat leaking into your bones. Riley glares.

“Y-yeah, I think so.” David studies your face, searching for any hesitance. He pauses, green glimmering. There’s a moment when you notice the fast blinking on his face, the slight flush to his stubbled jaw as he clenches it, and are reminded of the caressing thumb that had dug into your inner elbow. 

Delicate stitches. 

The world blurs like a reflection in unknown water. Ripples that distort the streetlights into the shadows on his face and create soft waves of old scars and pale flesh in their warm illumination. Hesh’s breath hitches.

“G-good.” And he’s releasing you quickly as you wonder if being found by him was truly the best thing that could have happened. You spare a glance at Riley with racing blood, trying to stop the smile that insists to form for no reason. The dog cocks its head. “We’ll…get on that tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Whispers dance on airwaves as David keeps his eyes forward. Clearing his throat as you clock that tick and pull his beanie off. You bump your elbow to his side and he snaps his neck back over like a line with a hook. “You should have this back.”

You both walk slowly, side by side down a back street, and spare each other quick glances with flaming faces.

“No, that’s alright,” Hesh utters, rubbing at his neck and avoiding looking at you head-on. Your fingers brush the fabric and your expression softens. “I have a whole bunch in my room, don’t worry about it. I’d…” he chuckles to dispel the strange tension in his shoulders. “I want you to have it. Don’t want you cold.”

Your eyes crinkle, and the man swallows.

“So you think that your hat will help with that?” Teasing, you take it back anyways and situate it back on your head, shyly putting your hands into your pockets. “What? Is it special?”

“Woah,” Hesh, smirks with a raise of a hand, pointing lightly at you. “Hey now, Sweetheart, don’t disrespect my beanies like that—they’ll save your life.” 

Laughs bounce off the street. 

“I guess I’ll have to keep a close eye on it then,” Riley huffs and Hesh pats his neck firmly, giving him attention. “For my safety.”

“Damn right.” Your heart hurts from how fast it’s beating, that great muscle like a large drum that echoes in your ears. Skin tingles with an undeniable tension in the air.

The barracks building comes into view. 

It’s nothing extravagant, but the thought of a soft bed and a pillow not filled with mold was addicting. Your eyes blink along the structure as Hesh leads you in, keeping the door open for you as he tells Riley to sit at the entrance. The dog does so, though obviously with disapproval—grunting in that lupine way as the barrier separates him and his handler.

“He really does not like me,” you mutter out, raising a brow and catching back up to David who waits a few more feet into the building. 

The brunette sighs.

“He does tend to hold grudges. Once he wouldn’t play fetch with Logan for two days because he forgot to give him his dinner.” 

“Hell,” your brows raise up, “my odds are in the ground.”

“Probably, Ma’am.” You elbow his side again and he chuckles, bumping his shoulder into you as his hands sway at his sides. “Ah, don’t hold it too close, Riley’s just a special case. My father trained him so he’s all business.” A smirk, “Nothing like me.” 

You stop as Hesh does—in front of a nice-looking wooden door.

“Here.” He points to the handle and you grasp it, twisting and pushing past. 

You enter a tiny but clean room smelling like linen and golden light. Delicately, as if the world would break apart if you touched anything you stare at the lamp on the nightstand, the curtain over the window; the…comfort. The sight of an extra blanket on the end of the bed almost made you cry. 

“Now,” Hesh slides past you as your lip quivers, wide eyes looking around. “No one else can access these barracks without an ID, so there’s nothing that should go…wrong…” 

He trails off when he sees your face.

“Hey,” David takes a step forward. “What’s wrong?” His eyes slip around, looking for what might have upset you as he comes back to you.

“Nothing,” fingers lightly rest on your collarbone as you shake your head; vision going blurry at the man’s worried face. “Nothing’s wrong, Hesh, I promise. Just…” you laugh wetly, and a tear drops down your chin. “I forgot what it was like to have an extra blanket.”

It was more than that, but the statement was all you could describe right now without making a complete fool of yourself. David’s breath stills, hand stuck an inch from your arm. 

He watches the tears fall from you and, without thinking, he reaches up the back of his pointer finger and brushes it along the flesh; creating a line of fire up until he completely swipes it away. After a second of quivering silence, the air flimsy as your lungs jump, he finds no fear or discomfort in your expression and does this again—wiping away any trace of past hurts. 

Blinking, you tilt your head forward and bump it into his chest. Startled slightly, Hesh grunts, but his hand finds the back of your head above his beanie and cups it, staring down at you with hot cheeks and a thick throat. 

“I…” he begins but can’t find the words. You made him want to skin his hands of calluses so that the roughness of his touch was foreign to you. 

You only deserved warm flesh and extra blankets. As much food as you could eat—soft mattresses and even softer clothes. So short of a time he had known you, but not a second more did he want you to suffer. 

Ten years. He can’t even imagine it, and yet here you are in his arms. Kind. Unbroken.

Hesh’s head stutters, hesitating, before his neck bends and he presses his face into the top of your head, closing his sad eyes and running his other hand up and down your back. 

Sniffling, you melt even more into him.

“She died a week before you found me—my friend. She was with me since the beginning.” The hitched voice that comes out of you is so quiet that the brunette has to strain his ears to listen but listen to you he does. Silent as a bug and tightening his hold so you hear his strong heartbeat rampaging in his chest. 

Logan and him did this a lot when their mother died. Just hugged and held each other as if their lives depended on it. He doesn't know why, but he knows it has to be the same for you as well.

“Infection. She fell,” your voice cuts out, “fell on a rusty nail. She’s the only reason I made it this far.”

“Where were you?” Hesh asks, lungs aching for you. “When ODIN struck—in town?” 

You return to that time, hand sliding up to wrap around his waist to ground yourself. David lets you, increasing the pressure of his gentle hand on your spine. “Hiking. It…it was a family vacation.”

His jaw clenched tight. A swelling hatred strangles his neck, a feeling that makes his eyes slip back open—forests burning in his iris’ in great waves of an inferno. He had never wanted to charge out into San Diego more than at this very moment.

A family vacation had turned into a decade of surviving. Hesh didn’t have the heart to ask about where your family was now. He already knew the answer.

“Everything just…fell apart.” Your ribs hide your fast-paced lungs, your sniffling nose stuck deep into fabric.

“I know,” the man grunts, “I know it did, I’m sorry.” It’s all he can say. He knows. David pulls you back by the shoulders after a moment and slightly moves his head down to look at you head-on. “But you’re here now, okay? Behind the Wall. You made it. And I’m gonna make sure that you’re never alone like that again.” He attempts a smile as you see his concerned expression, shining with sincerity and honor. “I’d stake Riley on it.”

The wet giggle that exits you is automatic, and Hesh chuckles right back; put at ease and ears bouncing with that sound that he commits instantaneously to memory. 

“That’s counterintuitive, Hesh. I don’t want your dog.”

“Well then, it’s a good thing I never break my word, huh?” Perhaps why he was so good at this, comforting people, was because of Logan. Only two years apart, but he’d taken the big brother role easily—loved it, in fact. It made him feel good to see people smile.

But it made him feel on the moon when it was you.

You watch his green eyes slip over your face, thumb going to wipe away the last drops on your under eye as a deep heat starts smoking inside of you. David speaks lowly, compassion so visible you find you want to gaze upon his face for hours; mapping lines and piecing together what made this man…him. 

“Feeling better?” Smiling softly, you find yourself leaning into his hands on your face. The brunette smiles back and chuckles. It wouldn’t be so bad, you decide, to stick by his side—even if Riley was less than approving.

“Feeling better.”

You sleep that night with an extra blanket wrapped around your body and a dark beanie on your head; taking in the scent from the fibers of thistle and dog hair. You’d never smelt something more comforting.

—

A week passes with a flurry of activity. You find out that Los Angeles is still habitable—in fact, there’s a stable economy in the city and people are thriving. Fort Santa Monica is home to not only a handful of civilians from before the war but also an incredibly large amount of military personnel all under Elias Walker's command. 

Hesh had taken you out on the third day for a ‘tour’ as he called it, but it was also due to the fact that you’d been too afraid to leave your room when not called upon. There were so many…noises…again. People laughing, happy conversations, and greetings thrown your way.

“Word got out about the girl that lived in No Man’s Land,” David had teased as you awkwardly waved at a woman in fatigues that had slapped your shoulder and invited you out for drinks with her friends. You had politely declined. “Everyone’s eager, seems.” 

“I think I forgot how to properly speak to people,” you had sent a frown and a huff his way, keeping close to him as he led you on with a wave of his hand and a deep chuckle. 

But in all this time you had earned yourself a big reputation for being the woman who handed over intel that others had only just begun to unravel. Federation base locations. Patterns on movement—irreplaceable data.

Which was why you’d been asked, rather told, by Hesh that you’d be going to the bar with him and Logan for drinks. On the house. 

You’d quickly found it to be a strange affair.

“Not feelin’ up to it, Sweetheart?” your eyes lift from where you’d been swirling your still-full glass of amber liquid. “I know it can be a little loud—I’m sorry. Merrick’s a giggly drunk.”

Green eyes stare at you with pity, throat bobbing as a beer bottle sits on Hesh’s lips; the last dregs going down before he wipes his mouth with his sleeve. 

“If you wanna leave I’ll walk you back, okay?”

“No,” you wave a hand, touched but hesitant, “that’s alright. I’m fine, really.”

The lieutenant smirks and tilts his head—raising a dark brow in disbelief. The two of you had gotten close over the days; he had told you early on that you were easy to read for him.

“Don’t make that face at me, David.” You glare, pointing from your seat at the bar top. Hesh rolls his eyes and shakes his head as if disappointed.

“Whoa, first name—that’s illegal.” 

Your lips pull up in a sharp smile, leaning over the table as the music from the building plays in your ears; warm light on your cheeks and nose. “David, David, David!” 

“Hey! Quit it!” You’d grown fond of him in a way you can’t describe. So short of time and yet you both still get giddy when you see one another—hearts hammering. Even now as the laughter spills from both of your lips and people in the bar spare knowing glances, you don’t address it. 

“But really,” Hesh levels and you watch him spread his hands in surrender, beer bottle still shimmering in one hand, “whenever you want to go, just ask.”

“Hesh!” A call bounces from the far corner and you both look over, startled, to Ajax at the pool table. “Get over here so I can wipe the floor with you!” 

There’s a bout of laughter from the other bar patrons, bets being placed loudly. 

“Hey, it won’t be that easy—you’re on!” Hesh is off with a rush, patting your shoulder as he passes. You watch after with a wide smile and a raised brow, muttering to yourself.

“He’s unbelievable.” You can’t deny the loftiness that you feel when he looks happy like that. Really happy. It’s nearly a curse to try and think about what he would have become if the Federation hadn’t fired ODIN. He would have been in the military still, no doubt, but not quite the same. 

Hell, what would you have been like, even?

A shadow slips into the chair next to yours, and you look over, content. “Hey, Logan.”

The younger brother nods to you, sipping from his glass of water, a greeting smile on his square jaw. True to the brunette’s word, he was very quiet, but you didn’t find it in a disrespectful way. Logan carried himself with a subdued power, and the dichotomy between Hesh and him was laughable when you really thought about it; polar opposites.

You didn’t mind in the slightest.

Holding an easy conversation with nods or tiny comments back, you spoke with him for about twenty minutes while Hesh and Ajax called each other names and threw baseless threats through smirking lips like toddlers. At one point a very drunk Petty Officer Second Class, Thomas A. Merrick, had to drag a laughing Ajax off the pool table while you and Logan watched with exasperated glances. 

But the air was easy and the drink was flowing—soldiers from all over the Fort were here tonight. For you, though most just came for a good sip of alcohol and you didn’t blame them. You just did what was right, nothing more. 

“I think I’m gonna head out,” you tap a fist to Logan’s shoulder and he looks at you, sparing a quick glance at Hesh. You smile. “Nah, I think he’s going to be at it for a while. I’ll just walk back by myself—I’ve got my keycard, so I’m all good.”

A yell of victory rings from the corner before a loud exclamation of, “Rematch, right now! Your foot hit one of the balls to the left when you were climbing it!”

“It did not!” Logan stares blankly behind you and you laugh, slipping past. 

“Tell Hesh I said to have a good night!” You call over your shoulder, catching adoring brown eyes following you out and a mock salute from his water glass. 

Riley sits outside, resting his eyes, but when the door closes behind you the canine springs to his feet. The week hadn’t soured your relationship, but it definitely didn’t make it better either. Frowning, you pause in the night and look at the empty food dish and the filled water cup set out by Hesh for him.

“Tough luck, bud?” A muzzle lightly curls, but at least he wasn’t barking at you. Ears stand alert and ready. “Look,” you level, pulling Hesh’s beanie farther down your head as those beady eyes glare. “I think we got off on the wrong foot, okay? It’s not like I want you to hate me—I was protecting myself. You,” your finger points, and a lupine huff warns you, “came at me.” You point to your chest. “Remember?” 

It was comedic the way Riley yawned harshly at that moment, and you scoff.

“Who am I kidding, you’re hopeless just like your handler. I shouldn’t even be doing this,” reaching into your jacket pocket, you produce a small, soggy, napkin. Bending down, Riley growls low in his gut, but you ignore him. Not to say that the sound didn’t make your lips thin, though.

Unraveling the knot you’d tied in the bar, you look down at tiny cubes of medium-rare steak and sigh. “Look if this doesn’t work, I’ll give up.”

Flattening out the napkin, you pick up a piece and turn your vision upwards to an intently watching dog. At the sight of the food in between your thumb and first finger, the dog’s mouth gradually opens, tongue beginning to lull. A black nose twitches quickly. 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” you grumble, “Hesh said you were a food fiend.” 

Tossing one of the pieces on the ground, you let him sniff it before his teeth flash and he grabs it quickly, tossing it up and munching on it. When Riley’s done he looks back at you expectantly, shoulders less wound up but still uneasy. 

“Well,” you push the rest forward before standing, “go on then. Don’t let me stop you.” 

Shaking your head to yourself, you leave him behind and set off down the street, mumbling, “You can’t say I never did anything for you…” 

You hear the sniffing before the clammer of biting teeth, happy pants, and tapping feet. Huffing, you can’t deny the slight jump that affects your heart. You’d have to tell Hesh about the progress tomorrow. 

Your cheeks heat, smiling to yourself as you think about the brunette. His hands always seemed to be on you one way or another and during the last two days he’d been holding onto you for longer; firm touches that he had to blink himself back to the present to take away. The actions made your skin tingle and more than once you’d caught your gaze lingering on his visage—his body. As if trying to will him back to you when he had to leave. 

But the staring was mutual. You had sworn at one point you had seen him more intent to fuzzily look at your moving lips than to focus on what you were explaining. Fingers absentmindedly tapping on a desk and humming at every word from you. The look had been…your body shivers warmly in remembrance, staring giddily at your shoes. 

You continue down the street, circles of light from the lamps hitting you one by one as you glide under them like a moth. Humming a light tune, you take the route that Hesh had brought you down the first time, imagining his hands on you and his lips on yours. 

When you giggle silently and chastise yourself for thinking like that, you hear the last whispers of a distant conversation that lead you to pause.

Your face freezes, smile stuck as your legs stall. It was Spanish wafting over the air, hushed and harsh. That wouldn’t be alarming, many people here spoke the language fluently as it was the native one of the entirety of the Federation—it was needed for intelligence gathering, or at least that was what Hesh had explained. No use going into No Man’s Land if you can’t understand the driving force occupying it. 

But this was hushed arguing, not some common conversation. It didn’t sound normal and the scuffling feet over the concrete gave you pause. The night suddenly became very cold. Backing up a step as you stare in the general direction of the increasing footfalls, the sudden sight of three heavily armed men as they round a corner with strong eyes. 

Your vision finds them immediately—and they do the same for you. It was instinctual, then, when your suddenly fevered face snapped to their patches. 

Gold stars and a black rhombus. Red outlined. Your expression utterly drops. 

There’s a single instance where no one moves, neither you nor those three Federation soldiers that now stare right back with an equal amount of shock. 

“Eh,” you make a sound in the confines of your throat and all hell breaks loose.

Jolting away, shouts ring out as hands snatch at your limbs, and you can’t even begin to think about how these people got into the Wall undetected. 

Everyone’s at the fucking bar!

Yelling loudly, you dash to the side, a quick swipe going above your head as the beanie is wrenched off of you instead of your hair. Not bothering to fight for it, though a large part of you wanted to, your feet take you anywhere but here. 

Roaring in anger, the soldiers pursued with rampaging boots and vitriolic order. Why they don’t shoot you is a wonder. Maybe it was because they wanted to try and salvage what they’d already lost. 

The screams escape you as you dash backward, retracing your steps but it isn’t going to be long before they catch you—true to that idea, just as the words exit your mouth, a harsh hand captures the back of your neck. 

“David!” The other winds around your mouth, muffled screams stuck behind gloves. Legs and arms striking out, your body is dragged into a back alley; the others all join to force you to submission. 

Your boot connects with someone’s kneecap, and a hoarse yell echoes as you rage with a frenzied pulse. Wide eyes look this way and that, sweat forming on your brow as a punch finds your gut and a resounding insult flies to your ears. 

Going slack for a moment, the violent white that bursts behind your vision leaves your straining muscles useless and you try to breathe behind the unrelenting hand over your mouth and nose. Like a shot deer, your dragging legs give out; coughing and gasping for air. 

Pain shoots down your chest with ruthless efficiency. 

You suppose in that moment of ringing ears, that it was chance that you heard the dull shunk of a knife being taken from a sheath. It wasn’t chance, though, when your desperate teeth snapped into the heavy hand, ignoring pain and the tears smeared over your face.

With a sharp cry, the hand loosens enough for you to get the last word, a brief moment of clear realization, “Riley,” you scream with little breath but sufficient volume, “Come!” 

The knife descended on you, but you jerked your shoulder to the side, head ripped back to bare your neck to the silent moonlight as the hand recovered your face. Black dots swirl, shadows lingering like phantoms in the recesses of your mind and spilling demons from your eyes. Hatred flares in you, but not as much as fear does. That silver blade connects with the meat of your neck and shoulder junction, tearing past muscle and tissue to rent a large slash open to the air. 

Your legs kick before arms wrap around them—more quickly called orders and insults directed at the one who had missed your neck peeling back the drums inside of your ear. Thick, hot, blood stains your clothes; the copper scent gets stuck in your nose as you gag and try to force your lungs to function with nothing to suck down. Darkness seeps deeper, and the knife is brought up once more, the tip digging into your cheek with a firm bite when you try to flinch away.

That’s when a guttural and vociferous yowl exudes from the chest of a rampaging canine as it bursts from around the corner of the alley, white teeth glinting and eyes red. 

Riley has the man with the knife by the neck in two seconds flat, reaming him back and clinging to his spine with only his fangs on his nape. Multiple wet crunches echo for but a moment, a small sliver in time, but then the loud pained bellows that follow after drown out all else. Like a bomb had been dropped, the man Riley keeps ripping apart falls sideways, hands reaching behind his head to try and pry the dog off. In a fit of fear and stupefaction at the turn of events the remaining men release you, tossing your body to the side and into the adjacent wall in panic. 

Hands reach for guns but it’s already too late. Riley has ripped the entire back of the man’s head off in a flurry of fur and jerking maw—flesh peeling back in long strings into a waiting mouth as the screams continue. Now, though, they come from only the remaining soldiers as you watch with mute horror; gripping your leaking cut and vision fuzzy from the blow that your head had taken from slamming into the wall. Lack of oxygen. 

With all the ruckus, it was only customary that the streets were soon awake with confusion and rising tension. You swore you heard your name being called streets over, hurried yelling as the lights flicker on from the building across the road.

But Riley. Christ, Riley. 

The second man’s pistol was stopped from rising any farther as fast fangs found a wrist, the shot bouncing off the ground as you balked back against the wall and cried out. Across the Fort, the yelling starts up. Louder now. That remaining soldier unaffected thus far by the feral rage is snapping into a ready stance—shaking as the barrel is leveled with the dog’s skull as sharp points go for the kill once again. 

“Riley!” You snag out a leg and rip it back, curling your foot around his ankle. Black clothes hit the ground hard, as the man inside went with them. 

It carried on just the same. 

Panting you stare into the blood-dripping muzzle that now turns your way, three opened necks pooling to the ground and twitching. Gargling gasps dribble like glasswork exploding in kilns; such a vulgar, primal, sound. But you only stare at the beady brown eyes as they seem to bite you as well. Framed with crimson, whiskers droopy as droplets hit your knee and rancid breath slides over your stalled face.

“Please…” you mutter, bruised head turning to the side, eyes clenched shut. Licking lips resonate and you clench your hands as you finally hear the frantic calling of your name coming down the road. Fast-moving shadows.

Hesh.  

Riley breathes on you, but before your swallowing throat can call out the brunette in fear of what the dog will do, a wet tongue licks a long stripe over your cheek. Eyes bugging, you snap your head back up, jaw slackened and brain struggling to calm down. 

The dog watches with a slow tilt of his head, tail lowly swishing. 

“What the fuck,” gasping wetly, the hand on your wound lessens, hot fluid gushing between fingers. 

Riley huffs, feet shifting. 

Laughing slightly in anxious confusion, your free hand lightly raises. Soft fur conforms to you, letting your digits weave through the locks. Riley licks his lips once more and sits on his fluffy behind, ears sharply up and twitching. 

Hesh nearly runs past the sight, heart too fast for his chest and teeth clenched tight together. His mind was as sober as it could be—a deep sense of unease clawing in his gut. 

He’s heard the screaming; the gunshot. When he’d run out of the bar after doing a quick headcount for you and being unable to place your form, Riley had already been gone. A trail of dust and a floating napkin were the only indicators. But the fear was worse than that.

Where had you gone? Were you in danger? No thought was behind his sprinting, just a flushed face and a deep need to keep you safe. He’d promised you. 

No one had been able to stop his senseless searching as he took off at a racer’s pace, looking down alleyways and carrying the pistol in his right grip until his knuckles had gone white and see-through. Like a loyal hound, Hesh was intent to find you. Even if it turned out to be nothing. 

And then the real screams started, and so he screamed too—your name.

But now he slams a hand into the concrete wall and reels himself back, a hunched shadow stiff in the side of his green vision before he can fully pass the alleyway entrance. 

“Holy…” Hesh trails harshly, gaze going wide. 

You were there surrounded by three Federation soldier’s bodies and while that was alarming, there was only so much you could do when you were a corpse. Riley held in your arms was something that Hesh couldn’t begin to explain. 

But the shock was short-lived.

“Sweetheart!” He called, boots propelling him forward as he slid to one knee in front of you, hands pushing past fur and muscle to bring yours forward by your shoulders. A handgun is placed into the back of his belt. “Woah, woah, hey. Tell me what happened. Where does it hurt?” 

Staring into your eyes you immediately relax at the presence of the man, his large body seeming to shield you away while sending glances around the area; not liking the thought of more attackers. 

“Hesh,” you breathe, massive weight coming off of you even as you bite your lip in a pained whimper. 

“I’m here. I’m right here.” Hands travel over your body, gliding over bumps and bruises quickly and efficiently. “What the fuck…” he growls deeply. “It’s all gonna be okay.” 

A swift glance is sent to the canine who watches blankly. 

“Good job, boy.” You stare blurrily into Hesh’s neck as he carefully peels back your hand, face scrunching and body pulling together as sparks of agony alight as the gaping cut meets the breeze. 

“I,” stuttering, you ignore his harsh inhale, the ripping of his shirt as he presses the tattered cloth to your neck. You shiver. “I lost your beanie.”

Fearful green eyes lock on your as the calls from the rest of the soldiers from the bar finally make an appearance. How fast had Hesh been running to find you? 

“Hey, don’t even worry about it,” his palm encapsulates your cheek like a prized family heirloom, keeping your face pointed toward him as you shiver. The soft scraping of his hard calluses itches your flesh. A strained smile graces his lips, “I’ll give you another one.” He looks the rest of you over and grits his teeth. 

He doesn’t care about the dead soldiers—the possibility of a breach. Suddenly, all of his priorities had shifted in the short span of a week, horrible loyalty rearing its head.

“I need you to stand up for me, Sweetheart, okay? I’ll be right here, I just need you on your feet. I know you can do it.” You nod shakily, pulling strength from his resolve as his arm pulls you to his chest like it had when you’d first hugged; using his muscles to drag you up a second after checking to see if you weren’t in too much pain. 

Standing now, his grip stays around you, propping you up into the crook of his arm and increasingly looking more and more worried. 

When you flinch and whine, he looks about ready to burn down cities to bring you comfort. 

“Riley, come on!” Hesh calls, then softer, “I know it hurts, but you’re doing great. Keep at it just a little longer.” 

He moves you quickly, and the pounding in the back of your head threatens to drown out everything—your neck and ribs barely made a dent like that did. A pan being hit with a spoon. Nails on a chalkboard.

“Logan!” David yells, and he feels incredibly warm. Riley brushes your staggering legs, keeping close and looking up at you. Leaning in more heavily, you gaze up into Hesh’s frowning face, his continued glances, and the furrow in his brow. 

You wonder how you’d never noticed how truly handsome he was before. Hesh had a strong face—good bones and a soft nature to his skin besides the stubble. And his eyes. Oh, his eyes. You blink up at him and he spares a stiff smile, mostly dragging you down the alley. 

Other feet pound the ground near the entrance.

“What’s that look for? Huh? Makin’ me nervous over here.” His fingers squeeze your shoulder. “Got something on my face?” 

“You’re kind, Hesh.” You whisper, blinking and stumbling before he grunts, twisting his grip to bring you up into a bridle hold. “Far kinder than you should be.”

His heart breaks.

Clenching your teeth, you bury your head into his neck before the brunette starts to run again. He pounds past Logan and a group of armed soldiers, who slide to a quick stop. Hesh only spares his wide-eyed brother a single, horror-stricken, look on the way through. Riley follows.

“Just keep talking.” He pleads, your dead weight in his grip worse than anything he’d ever experienced. “Y’know, you keep ending up in my arms.” He rounds corners, heading to the MTF with a bursting pulse. Hesh keeps looking down at you, pressing your head closer with a hand as if he could bleed himself to give you strength. “I think I should get my own plaque—Pack Mule. What do you think?” 

Laugh, please, laugh. Please, I need to hear it.

You laugh slightly, ear ringing to his blood flow. You want to melt into him, let him keep holding you like this and keeping you to him like a stuffed animal. His breath on your cheek, his glassy eyes and bitten lips. 

You’d known he was good from the moment you had seen him standing and gaping at your form in that bathroom cabinet, willing to treat your wound without even knowing if you were armed.

He’s good.

Hesh sprints past an entrance, shoulder slamming into a glass door as it’s thrown to the side. 

“Nurse!”

You don’t know why, but hearing his voice crack like that made you want to sob.

—

The soft antibacterial whip made you glower and flinch back, frowning straight into Hesh’s serious face.

“If you clean it anymore my skin will fall off.” You shoo his hand away from your shoulder, pulling the hospital gown back up in the process. 

“Just making sure it’s healing,” he looks up at you from his chair as you sit on the end of the bed. “Can’t be too careful.”

“Says the man who’s been here every day and leaves Riley to watch the door when he has to go to the bathroom.”

“Hey,” Hesh blushes, pulling back to slouch and crossing his arms. “It’s called being cautious. We still don’t know where the breach is.” 

You stare with a soft smile, exasperation in your eyes. 

“David,” he raises a brow at the title, “I’m okay.” 

Moving your hand from your lap, you absentmindedly pet the dog that sleeps on the hospital bed, itching behind Riley’s ears. Hesh watches, moments passing as the small tension seeps out little by little. He glances at the outline of stitches that he has to place bandages on soon but quickly looks away, frowning to himself. 

You sigh, shaking your head. 

“When I heard your voice from the alleyway entrance, I knew I would be just fine.” Green slowly slides back, gaze softening considerably as he watches your expression. A low grunt is forced out, a rubbing of a hand on his neck. “You promised, didn’t you?” Your head tilts. “You haven’t broken it.”

“No, I haven’t,” Hesh breathes, standing, “and I don’t intend to.” 

You smile, face hot as his vision blinks to the upturn of your lips. “Hey,” Riley stirs next to you, “at least I know I won him over.” Your hand pats the dog’s head. 

The brunette stares and a moment passes before he whispers, “knew you would.”

Blinking, you turn to find the most delicate expression on David's face and your breath hitches in your chest. He swallows but doesn’t hesitate. The words had been eating at him for a while, and as he was never one to shy away from speaking his mind, it was like torture to keep this from you. But now…now events have forced him into the spotlight. He can’t forgo this anymore, he can’t lie and say he hadn’t been sneaking glances or daydreaming about you. Your smile, your voice—even the way you walked or how your eyes lit up when you were passionate about something. 

It was just right, and seeing you like this now only strengthened that. Hesh had felt fear like he had when he was carrying you a total of a mere handful in his entire life. 

He mutters, “I knew from the second I found you out in No Man’s Land that you were special.”

Not believing your ears, you stop your petting. Wide eyes like dinner plates and a half-parted mouth. 

Was he…?

“I knew when you made me laugh when I was carrying you through the hills,” Hesh takes a step closer and grabs you lightly by the chin, tilting it up with a finger. His face was adorably burning, but you short-circuit at the words that continue to flow with candor. Your heart skips beats and with a clammy hand, you reach up to brush his wrist. Shivering, confidence builds. “I knew when I hugged you the first night you were here and,” he looked down, “I…I knew you were special when I felt my heart bursting out of my chest when I found you in that alley.” 

“Hesh,” you whisper, and you realize you close the two of you had become, breath mixing like a cocktail of glorious infection and stolen words. 

“If I hadn’t gotten there on time…” 

“Hesh.”

“...Even if I’ve only known you for a short while, Sweetheart, I can’t stop thinking the same thing every time I see you.” You stare, eyes wet, and suddenly no longer aware of where your head is anymore. 

His lips brush yours, but all you care about are those green eyes; digging, drilling past membranes and thoughts more effectively than any blade. You’re entranced, wholeheartedly frozen just for him—just as he is for you. 

It’s nothing but a whisper now. You feel the words more than hear them. His thumb tightens on your chin, and you don’t pull back as you steal his warmth. His kindness. 

His loyalty.

“...that even if I hadn’t entered that house on that rainy Tuesday,” he shutters, “I’d still be looking for you everywhere I went.” 

When his lips meet yours, you capture his soul, dragging him down into the depths of your lungs and breathing hope back into him. You smile through it, bandaged and stitched but happier than you’d been in a long time. 

Pulling back from a soft and delicate meeting of flesh, both faces are heated, burning under the pigments. There’s a moment of sanctity—holy silence one would find in a church during high mass—as you stare at one another. Hesh’s fingers run small movements on your skin. You beam and he says in a whisper, “Hey…I guess that means I did something right.”

“You’re lucky you’re perfect, David.”

“I could say the same about you, Sweetheart.” You giggle and drag him back in as Riley snoozes on, legs kicking in a silent dream. 

When the nurses come to check on you in four hours, they’ll find the bed occupied by three forms. 

A soldier, a patient, and a dog. All curled up in a pile of multiple blankets and hard pillows—arms wrapped around one another with the man pressing the woman’s face deep into his chest; even breaths of a soft sleep that sing like rare lullabies. All, in their own way, seem to have heavy smiles stuck into the lines of their faces.

They leave them be.

TAGS:

@blueoorchid, @jxvipike, @revrse, @shuttlelauncher81, @bruhhvv, @kittiowolf210, @aerangi, @spikespiegelll, @ghost-with-a-teacup, @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore, @uberraschungg, @neelehksttr, @shoe1412,@jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @pukbadger, @omeganixtra, @nanialis, @gills-lounge, @voidinfernal, @sukunas-left-nut-sack, @untoldshortsofthefandoms, @batmanunicorns523, @icepancakes, @copiasratscheese, @besas-stuff, @marytvirgin, @misfne, @halfmoth-halfman, @lothiriel9, @anna-banana27, @jade-jax, @cl0wncxre, @emerald-valkyrie, @michirulol, @330bpm-whiplash, @lora21, @bespectacledhuman, @wolfyland07, @dilfsaremyfavourite, @astronaunt2009, @shmaptin, @levietc, @kk19pls, @semieitabby, @thriving-n-jiving, @cringe-kats, @n1choles, @gaychaosgremlin, @johnpricesprincess, @haleypearce,

[elizabebabe]

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 ೀ 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨

𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡: you're scouted for love island and you and your manager think of it as a business opportunity but what happens when you actually want to find love?, you're in for the summer of your life.

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫: 3

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: use of y/n, kissing.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.5k!

𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬: imagine my shock, it's a chris fic!

you slowly pulled away from the hug, looking him in the eyes. you know he felt it too, you all sit back down at the fire pit ready to ask him the hard hitting questions, 

“you nervous bro?” cade questions him. 

“little bit.” he giggles, pushing his hand through his hair. 

“we all are.” aidan comments attempting to mellow him out.

“what’s your name? age?, didn’t catch it.” leah calmly asks.

“chris, 20 years of age.” his smile is contagious, you can’t help smirking. 

“what do you do for work?” clair asks from next to you, nudging at your side.

you playfully roll your eyes at her, “i do social media, with my brothers.” 

you all nod along to his words, “what’s your type?” leah questions.

“i don’t have one, i know blahbla everyone says that but it’s true, 

i just like someone that can sit back and chill and who can have those normal conversations.” he motions with his hands, everyone intently listens, naturally interested in what he has to say.

“who do you find attractive here though.” cade says in a ‘cut the bullshit’ way.

“they're all pretty.” chris rebuttals.

“he dodged that.” cyrus laughs, making the other guys chuckle.

a ding loudly rips through the laughter, chris checks his back pocket,

 “got a text.” he sticks his tongue out, “islanders, in 24 hours chris will couple up, with a girl of his choice, “leaving a boy single and vulnerable.” everyone's jaw slacks, gasps and groans coming from different places around the fire pit.

 “#you-tu-ber in for a treat.” he laughs at the hashtag, “you are in for a treat!” he exclaims.

all the guys squirm while looking at each other. 

⋆˚｡⋆୨୧˚

after learning the news everyone slowly dispersed from the fire pit, boys and girls separating for their own chats, the girls going to the swing and the guys heading to the kitchen.

“how are you girls feeling?” abby starts.

you adjust yourself to sit comfortably, “i think he's a good looking boy.” you comment, turning your head towards the kitchen, you notice how outgoing he was, how touchy he is, your mind ran wild, not being able to control itself, you imagine —, you get snapped out of your thoughts by clair, bringing your attention back to the conversation you were having.

“he's not my usual type.”  leah comments, kaia agreeing. 

“but he's cute.” leah continues, “not again.” abby laughs, making you scoff.

“abby, how do you feel? i know you’re smitten with cade.” clair’s voice rings with concern.

“m’good, i just really like how it’s going with him.”

“we just don’t want you to close off so soon.” kaia comments, you nod your head.

“i know, i know.” she replies, sighing, toying with the fabric of her dress.

you notice chris approaching the swing, 

you take a swig out of your glass then nudge at clair, grabbing her attention then the rest of the girls.

“heyy.” he says walking up, you were sitting across from abby, you both being nestled to the ends of the swing, you notice kaia and leah making room in the middle of the swing for him to sit, he plops down next to them with a giggle.

“how are you?” leah asks.

he man spreads, his hands in a ball on his lap, he smiles when the question rings through his ears.

“i’m great, thank you!”, “what about you?” he continues, aiming the question towards all of you, inviting you to converse. 

“good.” abby responds.

“better now.” leah replies.

“yeah?” he says sarcastically.

“were you nervous coming down?” you chime in.

“yeah, definitely, this is kind of the first thing i've done without my brothers so it's really nerve racking.”

“you’re close with your family?” you reply.

“yeah, i'm a triplet so we rarely spend this much time away from each other.” 

you all lightly gasp, “that’s so cool.” abby adds.

“thank you!” he smiles, putting one of his hands behind his head.

⋆˚｡⋆୨୧˚

it was about that time to head to the beach hut, you felt excited for some reason, feeling like you could get things off your chest in there without any judgment.

you sat down in the chair, adjusting your mic.

“hello..” you say nervously. 

“how are you feeling about the new boy?”

you smile, fumbling with your outfit.

“he seems nice, i'm attracted to him so..we’ll see.” you say slowly, carefully thinking about what to say.

“what do you think about leah after your conversation?” the ominous voice behind the camera queries. 

“i like her, i'm not gonna be off with her over something so small.”

“you both seem to like chris.” they state, obvious they’re trying to stir something.

you scoff, “mhm..” 

“how do you feel about your connection with romeo? he seemed to be a second thought when chris arrived.”

your jaw drops, “he is not!”, you defend yourself.

“i’m still thinking about me and romeo, we're going quite slowly at the minute but i like that, plus leah is still in the equation so i’m just trying to get to know everyone.” silence takes over the room.

….

“alright, all done.”

“thank you.” you smile, getting up from the chair and opening the door, closing it behind you, there were two ‘beach huts’ one upstairs and one downstairs, they had called you to the one upstairs.

you walk around the corner into the makeup room, sitting down at one of the vanities, taking a breather, making sure you still look nice.

you needed this bit of downtime, a break, you readjusted yourself in your outfit, fiddling with a bit of it, you stood up knowing it was time to rejoin the others. 

⋆˚｡⋆୨୧˚

when you walked back out romeo quickly pulled you away bringing you to the bean bags, you slowly sat down a “humph” leaving your lips from the low fall.

“you okay?” he chuckles.

“yeah.”, you quickly realize how unflattering sitting on it was. 

“how you doing?” he asks

“fine, you?”

“good, do you like chris?” he quickly asks, getting straight to the point.

you’re stunned by his question, it naturally takes a while for you to answer, leaving him in silence. 

“i don’t know him yet so i don’t know.” you reply in a hushed tone.

“you find him attractive though right?” he hurriedly comments.

“sure.” you say sharply.

you didn’t know why this conversation annoyed you, but it did, you tried to remind yourself he was just asking questions.

“alright.” he starts getting up leaving you with a confused face, that was it? that's all he had to say to you?

he pushes himself off the bean bag, putting his hand out for you, you put your hand in his allowing him to pull you up, leaving you unsteady, physically and mentally. 

⋆˚｡⋆୨୧˚

it was time for bed, everyone piled into the bathroom to wash their face, brush their teeth. you decided to change first and wait everyone out, you peeled out of your outfit, placing it in your empty suitcase then changing into a t-shirt, you grabbed some toss around shorts and put those on too. 

you opened your designated closet putting your heels on the shelf next to the shoes you unpacked earlier this morning.

the rest of the girls came in bare faced ready to change into their pjs, giving you the signal to head to the bathroom, you grabbed your toothbrush from a little bag nestled onto your vanity.

“this is basically like a big sleepover.” you heard abby comment as you exited the room heading to the bathroom.

you walk into the bathroom noticing chris laying toothpaste onto his brush, you seemed to have the same idea.

“hi.” you say awkwardly, grabbing a used toothpaste tube from off the sink

“heya” he smiles, he shoves the brush into his mouth, brushing ferociously, you can’t help but watch.

you side eye him, a “damn” leaves your mouth making him laugh, his laugh is infectious making you giggle, your interaction bellows through the halls, “who’s having fun without me?” abby questions sarcastically peeking into the bathroom, she notices you too and decides it’s better to not interrupt, walking back into the girls changing room.

you two are too busy chuckling to even notice her, you finish brushing your teeth alongside him, you begin to wash your face as he walks out of the room, presumably heading to the changing room as he was still wearing his jeans and t-shirt.

the guys changing room is across from the girls easily making for chaos but once everyone was done changing and cleaning up you all headed downstairs to the bedroom.

⋆˚｡⋆୨୧˚

you needed to have some water before bed since it always helped you sleep. you walked to the backyard and into the kitchen, the cool air made you shiver as you filled up your classic love island water bottle, you took a sip of the refreshing water while walking back inside.

you walked into the bedroom noticing couples in their beds and chris on his lonesome, his bed was right next to you and romeo, you headed to the right side since romeo was already comfortably conversing with robert who was lying next to clair.

you sit down taking a sip of your cool water from the fridge, “hey.” chris rolls over to get a good view of you, “hi.” you reply slightly uneasy, it made you uncomfortable knowing romeo was right next to you.

chris giggles at you, noticing your quick zone out, “you do that a lot.” he chuckles. 

you scoff with embarrassment, placing your water bottle on the table in between you and chris’s beds, “you're funny.” he says with a smile, “but i'm not doing anything?” you question, only making him laugh harder.

romeo taps at you gaining your attention, “do you wanna cuddle or no?’”

chris stops laughing, taking note of the interaction, you lift your legs onto the bed and face romeo, “i don’t know.” you reply, genuinely unsure. 

“alright.” he quickly replies. 

everyone slowly goes silent, eye masks going on, ear plugs plunging into ears, mics being laid on the ground or the side table, you slide down, attempting to get comfortable, lifting your mic above your head and placing it next to chris’s.

the lights turn off, romeo turns on his side facing away from you, you hear sheets rustling as people get cozy.

“y/n” you hear a loud whisper from your left making your head turn.

“what?” you say quietly, turning on your side to face the whisperer, chris.

“goodnight.” he smiles, all you can really make out are his teeth and his eyes.

you smile back, “goodnight, chris.” 

⋆˚｡⋆୨୧˚

the lights are bright and a “good morning, islanders!” echoes, groans are heard from the other side of the room.

you squint your eyes open, a yawn creeping up on you, you bend down groggily grabbing your mic off the ground and slowly hanging it on your neck, everyone around you does the same.

“whoo!!” abby exclaims, causing leah to groan, “too much for right now.” she comments.

“guys, it's the first full day!” she gets up, jumping on her and cade’s shared bed, causing cade to rock back and forth.

you sit up smiling, grabbing the water off your side table, taking a sip.

“let’s have a good day people.” cade basically shouts, making romeo jump.

chris extends his arm to poke you, you look towards him with a confused look. he rubs his eyes, “they’re perfect for eachother.” he says raspily, you nod your head in agreement.

⋆˚｡⋆୨୧˚

you were needed in the beach hut for some morning catch up, you slowly walked up the stairs feeling like a zombie, everyone groggily followed behind you ready to freshen up for the day, well..everyone except for abby and cade who were basically bouncing off the walls. you entered the room, sitting down ready for the questions.

“first full day, how are you feeling?”

you stuffily giggle, wiping your eyes, “i’m ready to have more chats today, i’ve only really talked one on one with romeo so yeah..” a long yawn gently rips from your throat.

“you and chris seem to get on well, you were talking to each other before bed.”

you scoff, “he’s interesting for sure.” you pause and smile, “he’s like…adorable but also sexy? if that makes any sense.” 

“are you happy with your couple?”

you hesitate, “i was..no i am..?” you think, questioning yourself, “i think little “conversations” i’ve had elsewhere have been smoother than my conversations with romeo..” you felt guilty even hearing that exit your mouth but you can’t help how you feel, right?

⋆˚｡⋆୨୧˚

water hits you harshly, running against your back. you lathered yourself with soap, the guys had already headed outside to have breakfast so you weren’t worried about being walked in on and being made to feel uncomfortable but you still wanted to wash up as quickly as possible.

you hopped out and slipped on a one piece you prepared walking into the makeup room, clair and kaia were the only girls still in there. you sat at your normal spot, cozy next to clair, “how are you?” kaia asks beckoning towards you.

“good, refreshed.”, clair nods agreeing with you.

you started your usual routine, pulling things out of your small bag. 

“clair, how you feelin’ about robert?” you question as you focus on the things in front of you, 

“uhm.” she quickly replies, attempting to think. “i don’t know, i've had good convos with him but i've also had good chats with aidan.” she continues.

“damn, okay little love triangle.” kaia snickers as she moves her makeup brush down her neck.

“i’m just glad to have options.” clair states, 

“how is cyrus?” clair changes the subject.

“he’s good, when he first came in he had a lot of energy but now he's really mellowed out.” kaia answers as she applies mascara on her eyelashes.

“which i love.” she continues.

“that’s gooood.” you drag your word while you attempt to focus on finishing up your makeup, 

applying a lippie before standing up and going towards your favorite mirror, adjusting yourself in your swim-suit, you walk over to your closet picking out some sandals to match. “you look really good.” clair comments as she stops what she's doing to pay you mind.

“thank you.” you smile back at her.

⋆˚｡⋆୨୧˚

you, clair, abby and leah sat in a circle of bean bags, the heat sticking your body to it, “abby, is there anyone else you’d want to talk to?” leah peacefully questions.

she looks around, noticing kaia and cyrus having a convo at the fire pit, “maybe cyrus? he’s the only one other than cade that checked a few boxes so, i don’t know.” she pauses, 

“it's hard because i need to be open and remember that we’ve only been here for a day.”

she hesitates, “like i keep telling myself that but nobody in here matches my energy like cade.” she continues talking quietly in fear of anyone else hearing, you all nod your heads. 

“i get that.” leah states, “me and cyrus still haven’t talked. should i go pull him?” she carries on.

“right now?” clair asks.

“yeah.” she quickly replies. 

“if you want to.” you chime in, looking between abby and clair.

“ok.” leah pushes herself up from the bean bag, walking towards the fire pit. 

“pulling him while they’re talking is devious work.” abby chuckles, making you and clair laugh, you look over abby’s shoulder noticing chris coming your way.

“chris is coming over.” you whisper.

abby and clair look around them, noticing him approaching.

“i didn't tell you to look for him.” you giggle.

“sorry girl.” abby and clair snicker.

“you want to chat?” chris questions you, “sure.”

“look away, getting up from this is embarrassing.” you comment as you attempt to push yourself up from the bag. you make abby and clair sneer from your comment, he smirks then follows your command, looking away.

⋆˚｡⋆୨୧˚

you both walk over to the swing then sit down, he sits in a certain position so he can maintain eye contact, your eyes widen. “holy shit, you have blue eyes?” you exclaim, for some reason only noticing this now.

his jaw drops making himself chuckle “you didn’t notice?”

“i had no fucking idea.” you quickly reply.

“so you don’t pay attention to me…okay.” he comments, making a sarcastic frown.

“no, no.” you swiftly say as you giggle. 

“it was dark, they looked brown.” you add, attempting to defend yourself.

“oh really?” he says sarcastically 

“okay mr. sarcasm.” you couldn't stop smiling when you were with chris, this is all you wanted.

“you look pretty.” he observed you, sending a chill down your spine.

“thank you..” you said flusteredly, “you too.” you continued.

“i look pretty, yeah?”  he questions, leaning back on the swing, throwing his hand behind his head.

you giggle, “very.”

he went on to ask you questions about your life, whether it was about the smallest thing or something huge, there wasn’t one dull moment with him.

but that didn’t make you forget to ask him questions as well,

when he talked about his family his eyes lit up. it was so wonderful to see, you intently listened to his every word, highs and lows about his career, favorite food. you could easily talk for hours but unfortunately it was interrupted by a ding.

“got a text!” cyrus shouts, you slowly get up, giving chris a quick side hug as you both walk over to the fire pit, “islanders, it’s time to reveal your red hot flags in today’s red hot challenge.” you bite your tongue in an attempt to not laugh.

“#willyoubemybuoy, #slipperywhenwet”, cade and abby cheer.

⋆˚｡⋆୨୧˚

you and the girls enter the dressing room, noticing 5 red bikinis lined on the closets, quickly changing and adjusting yourselves in every mirror.

“this is so exciting!” abby exclaims to you all.

you smile at her.

boys and girls will compete against each other in "red flags", you’all each pick a life buoy which will unveil a saucy secret about one of the islanders on the opposing team. then jump into a slime pool and wrestle an inflatable shark, once you exit the slime you’ll do your best ‘baywatch’ inspired slow-mo walk down the sprinkler runway before making your guess by kissing the islander you think the secret is about. 

cade started us off, grabbing a life buoy off the wall and flipping it over. “this girl got caught having sex in her parent’s room.” all of your jaws dropped, you and the girls were lined up vertically along a fence allowing you to give playfully, judgy, looks down the line.

“that’s insane.” leaves one of the boys' mouths but you couldn’t tell who.

cade basically skips over to the pool, jumping in and mounting the inflated shark. the guys cheer him on as well as you and the girls, “get it!” robert shouts.

he jumped out, covered in slime, taking his time getting to the “runway”. he did his best walk while holding the buoy, sprinklers blasting him.

he ran down the line up of you girls, making his way down to abby, performing mouth to mouth, the kiss looked wet and slimy, you cringed as clair laughed next to you.

once they finish their long kiss he walks over to the flags to reveal who’s secret it was, he peels it back revealing leah. you all giggle as she covers her face, “my cat was asleep on my bed, there was no other choice!” she defends herself, everyone gives her questioning looks, “i can think of many other choices.” clair responds.

after cade’s go he lost the boys a point.

it was aidan’s turn next, he slowly picked up a buoy of his choice, reading off the back, “this girl did ballet growing up and still uses it to this day.” he pauses.

 “that would be normal but there’s a winky face.” he snickers, 

“just look at their feet.” cade says, making everyone laugh.

aidan quickly made his way through the pool and the runway, making it time for him to choose a girl. you could tell he really wanted to earn the boys a point as he took his time thinking about who to pick.

he looks down, taking cade’s advice, you all squirm in an attempt to hide your toes, he smiles, “fuck it.” he mutters, going over to clair and placing the buoy round her neck then leaning in for a wet, sloppy snog.

it seems to take her by surprise, you try not to look but it goes on for a while.

they finally stop and he makes his way to the flags, pulling the sticker back revealing clair’s name, “holy shit!” the boys cheer.

cyrus’s turn! he quickly grabbed the buoy, “this girl once peed in a shoe hiding in an ex’s closet.” he quickly jumped through the slime, doing his funkiest baywatch walk and making his way down the line, he wrapped the buoys string around leah, bringing his lips down to hers.

right…next..to..kaia, you look down the line attempting to get a good view of her reaction, she didn’t look very happy, especially when that didn’t remotely seem like something leah would do, she’s too chill. 

“yikess..” abby says quietly, he pulls away from the kiss making his way to the flags, peeling back the sticker to unveil kaia’s name. you silently gasp and you can hear clair having the same reaction.

“i found out he was cheating on me and i had his house key, i spied on him.” she quickly says, she’s definitely told that story before.

it was romeo’s turn, he grabbed a buoy off the wall and cleared his throat, “this girl lived in a strict household and didn’t have lingerie so she cut big holes out of her granny panties.” you scoff, watching people's reactions as you knew this was you, what are the chances he picked your damn story.

all you could think about is how you didn’t want romeo to kiss you especially in front of chris.

while you zoned out he was already covered in slime, awkwardly making his way down the runway, then observing all of you, ‘don’t kiss me.’ was the only thing echoing in your mind.

he walked up to you, putting his hand around the side of your neck, you could hear cheers from the boy's and abby’s loud self.

he leaned in placing his lips on yours, it was messy as you attempted to find a rhythm that worked for you both, he easily led the kiss, the cold buoy from his other hand hits your side like a tambourine making you squeal.

he takes advantage of your open mouth, slipping his tongue past your lips, you can’t stop thinking about chris, how he feels. your teeth bang together reminding you you’re still kissing him, you slowly pull away in an attempt to let him down easily, he smiles at you and you lightly smile back.

you fearfully avoid eye contact with the boys, clair nudges you, you look at her and she discreetly points towards the boys, you look over soulfully noticing chris’s gaze making you quickly turn away.

romeo pulls the sticker back, your name bold for everyone to see, the boys cheer, everyone except for chris.

robert was next, you couldn’t pay attention to what was happening with him as your mind raced about what just happened,

 you were only able to notice him having a quick peck with abby, then pulling the sticker back and getting it right, earning the boys another point.

lastly, it was chris’s turn, you felt sick to your stomach, guilt continued to wash over you but you didn’t know why, you didn’t do anything wrong, right?

clair had to touch your shoulder to get you out of your thoughts, bringing you back to reality as chris splashed into the slime, it oozed off of him. 

he quickly glided down the wet runway, him holding the buoy in his hand reminded you that you didn’t pay attention to the prompt, he walked down the line of you all tapping his lip with his finger.

he tsked, walking up to you and using his unoccupied hand to hold the back of your head, he delicately kissed your cheek then pulled away, giving you butterflies, he peeled back the sticker revealing kaia’s name, “awe, shucks!” he comments sarcastically.

⋆˚｡⋆୨୧˚

it was finally you and the girls' turn, you switched spots with the boys, them now standing in the line.

abby was first, she excitedly grabbed a buoy off the wall, “this boy has never been in a relationship.”, oohs and ahhs are shared between everyone, you and the girls huddle, 

“what you guys think?” abby whispers, “it’s not robert, he’s 28.” leah mentions. “that doesn't mean anything..” kaia slowly replies, “she’s right to be fair.” clair says, “i think it’s chris.” he’s only 20, abby states.

“he’s on social media though, surely...” leah replies, “i back that actually.” you comment.

“kk!” you all quickly stop huddling, and watch as abby dives into the slime pit, “it’s in my nose!!” she complains.

she struts down the walkway, the sprinklers hitting her at every angle. 

she darts straight to chris, placing the buoys string over his head, he giggles as she snogs him, you can’t get a good look which is probably for the best.

she pulls the string off his head then walks over to the flags, pulling back the tape to reveal chris’s name. you girls cheer and rally, you notice cade having a sour face as abby walks back over.

you all played to win, not considering who you wanted to kiss but who you had to, your lips ended up locking with aidan which was unexpected but ended with you getting a point, the only point you girls lost was leah’s turn with a bad guess.

as you girls guessed the most flags correctly, you were all crowned as winners, ending with jumps up and down and cheers from you all.

⋆˚｡⋆୨୧˚

everyone  arrived back at the villa, wet, slimy and sticky messes.

you and the girls decided you needed some chat after the game, heading to the swing, 

“did you see cade’s face, abby?” clair starts.

“what?” she quickly replies.

“he looked pissed.” leah states.

“what’h i do?” her words mush together from her panic, you all shrug.

she rolls her eyes, “anywayyyyy, we won!” she exclaims.

the rest of you cheer alongside her.

“high fives!” kaia places her hand out and you all join her.

a ring is heard from the fire pit, where all the boys were talking. 

“text!” chris shouts, all of you stickily get up from the swing, walking over to the boys.

“it’s time to get freshened up as chris will take two girls of his choosing on dates!” the guys cheer, patting his back. he chuckles.

“#sunsetdining, #sunkissed.” he delivers with a smile.

who will chris choose to go on dates with? find out next time on love island..

i'll definitely keep the challenges based off real ones so they aren't extremely hard to imagine, this one is based of aussie love island, season 4. also since this is a chris fic i'll probably end up doing one for matt, i have an idea in mind....anyways, ilysm <3

[shisekibo]

[Story Translation] Chapter Two - The Glow of Despair [Episode Two: Part Five]

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Seraphim:

“Haha ♪ Look how many there are."

Cherubim:

“Yes. These will be perfect for our experiments. We'll understand humans in no time."

Fennesz:

“This is bad... The soldiers..."

Lamli:

“They took everyone but us?!"

Berrien:

“No. Mr. Teddy and his Commanding Officer were spared."

Yuhan:

“Ugh... My eyes..."

Bastien:

“Oi, Yuhan! Are you okay?"

Yuhan:

“Mr. Bastien... Yes. I'm okay."

Yuhan:

“Where are my subordinates...?"

Yuhan:

“I-is that...?!"

Lucas:

“Miyaji!"

Miyaji:

“Yes, I got it. Follow me, Lucas."

As we all stood frozen in shock by the sudden turn of events...

...Miyaji and Lucas made their way over to attack the Intelligent Angels.

Miyaji:

“You're going to give back our soldiers."

slash

Seraphim:

“Oh my... How dangerous."

Lucas:

“We won't let you just do as you please."

slash...!

Cherubim:

“What a shame. You missed."

Lucas:

“He dodged it!"

flutter... flutter...

The Intelligent Angels spread their wings and took off into the sky.

The bird cage full of soldiers followed them as they flew higher and higher.

Flure:

“This is bad! They're going to get away...!"

Nac:

“Ammon! Flure! Aim for the Angels!"

Ammon:

“Got it!"

Flure:

“We won't let them get away..."

Cherubim:

“Hahaha..."

At that, Cherubim moved the bird cage in front of him and Seraphim.

Nac:

“They're using the soldiers as a shield!"

Nac:

“You two! Don't shoot!"

Ammon:

“Hiding behind humans... What cowards."

Cherubim:

“So it's true. The Devil Butlers won't attack humans."

Lono:

“They're getting away!"

Fennesz:

“They're too high... We can't reach them..."

Lato:

“I won't let them get away. My sword will reach them."

Flure:

“You can't, Lato! What if you hit a soldier...?!"

Seraphim:

“Haha. They're really panicking now."

Teddy:

“Wait! Let my people go!"

Seraphim:

“Hm? That's..."

Scouting Party Soldier:

“Officer Teddy! Run while you still can!"

Scouting Party Soldier:

“If you get any closer, you'll be trapped too..."

Teddy:

“I'm not going to abandon you...! I'll save you, I promise!"

Scouting Party Soldier:

“O-Officer Teddy...!"

Scouting Party Soldier:

“Please save us!"

Scouting Party Soldier:

“We don't want to die here!"

Seraphim:

“It looks like one of the humans is coming our way."

Seraphim:

“Wow... That's some real blood-lust. These humans must be really important."

Scouting Party Soldier:

“Officer Teddy...!!"

Seraphim:

“Everyone's getting so emotional."

Seraphim:

“Humans are so interesting. They have such a range of facial expressions."

Seraphim:

“Panic... Anger... Fear... I want to see more!"

Seraphim:

“For example... I want to see despair!"

Seraphim thrust his hand into the cage as he spoke.

It began to glow, brighter and brighter.

Scouting Party Soldier:

“I can't see..."

Teddy:

“Wh-... What are you doing?!"

Seraphim:

“You're soldiers, aren't you?"

Seraphim:

“I'm sure you already know what this light means."

Teddy:

“That's the light they use... to erase humans..."

Scouting Party Soldier:

“Aaaargh!!! Officer Teddy!! Help...!!"

Scouting Party Soldier:

“No...! I don't want to die...!!"

Teddy:

“Stop it..."

Teddy:

“Stop it now!"

Seraphim:

“Yes, yes. That's what I wanted to see."

A blinding light emanated from Seraphim's hand.

The terrified screams of the soldiers echoed around us.

Soon, they faded to nothing...

When the light disappeared, there was no trace of the soldiers in the cage.

Teddy:

“No... This isn't happening..."

Teddy:

“You're lying... You're lying!"

Teddy:

“Ugh... Uughh..."

Teddy:

"AAAAAAARGHHHH!"

Choices:

“No way..."

Berrien:

“How could they...?"

Seraphim:

“Hahaha! Very good! That's the expression I was looking for!"

Cherubim:

“Oi, Seraphim."

Cherubim:

“What did you do that for? We finally had hostages."

Cherubim:

“All the noble soldiers are gone now!"

Cherubim:

“Did you not listen to my plan?"

Seraphim:

“Sorry, I got a bit carried away."

Cherubim:

“You really are just too curious."

Cherubim:

“Oh well. It's my fault for not planning for if something like this happened."

Cherubim:

“But this is your last chance. Be careful."

Seraphim:

“I will, I will."

Seraphim:

“Oh, then how about this? Why don't we take that screaming one with us?"

Teddy:

“Ghh... Ugh... Uughh..."

Teddy:

“I'm supposed to be their deputy leader... But when it mattered... I didn't do a thing..."

Seraphim:

“He's one of the nobles' soldiers too, isn't he?"

Seraphim:

“Or we could take their leader? He's too scared to even stand."

Seraphim:

“Maybe we should take him captive?"

Cherubim:

“No, we can't. We still need them to do some work for us."

Cherubim:

“Humans care very much about structure. They'll take the words of a commanding officer seriously."

Cherubim:

“Their role is just about to begin."

Seraphim:

“Role? What do you mean?"

Cherubim:

“I'll explain later."

Cherubim:

“Now then... Devil Butlers and their Master."

Cherubim:

“We'll be taking our leave now..."

Seraphim:

“Oh, that's right. Haures."

Haures:

“What do you want...?!"

Seraphim:

“I ended up getting carried away and erasing the humans you brought, but... You played your part perfectly."

Seraphim:

“Let's talk about Tricia later."

Seraphim:

“Thank you for making such a wonderful deal with us."

Haures:

“Ugh...! Stop making up such ridiculous lies!"

Seraphim:

“Hahaha... Bye bye."

flap... flap...

And with that, the two Intelligent Angels disappeared into the darkness of the night.

They left behind only a heavy silence, which engulfed the Devil Butlers...

...And Teddy, who pounded the ground in frustration, tears streaming from his eyes.

Teddy:

“Shit...! Shit...!! Ugh..."

Choices:

“Mr. Teddy..."

We returned to town with nothing to show for our hardship.

While none of the Devil Butlers had been harmed...

We had failed to capture an Intelligent Angel...

And lost all the Sardeis soldiers but Yuhan...

And all the Grosvenor Scouts but Teddy and their commanding officer in the process.

- Devil's Palace -

With heavy hearts, we made our way back to the Devil's Palace and gathered in the dining room.

Lono:

“Master, here's some soup. Please, eat it."

Lono:

“You'll catch a cold if you don't warm yourself up."

Choices:

“Thank you, Lono."

Haures:

“..."

Fennesz:

“..."

The atmosphere in the room was heavy.

We'd lost a great deal of soldiers. The somberness made sense.

Suddenly, Lucas spoke.

Lucas:

“That was a total failure... And it's looking especially bad for us."

Berrien:

“Yes... I never would have imagined a second Intelligent Angel could exist."

Berrien:

“We lost all but three of the Sardeis Family Guard and the Scouting Party."

Berrien:

“Luckily our Master was fine. And none of us were lost..."

Lucas:

“Yes... But..."

Lucas:

“Is it really luck that we were the only ones who remained unharmed...?"

Muu:

“What do you mean by that?"

Lucas:

“I think you'll understand soon."

click

Nac:

“Excuse me."

Choices:

“Nac..."

Nac:

"Mr. Lucas... There's a message from the Grosvenor Family."

Nac:

"Mr. Haures, Mr. Lucas and Master..."

Nac:

"You're to attend a hearing at the Grosvenor Residence tomorrow..."

Lucas:

“Understood. Thank you, Nac."

Haures:

"..."

Fennesz:

“Haures..."

Choices:

“What's going to happen to us now...?"

The following day...

We made our way to the Grosvenor Residence.

[spiritthemoron]

|Possible TOH spoilers!|

Here are some design references for my new AU I’m working on named the Star Father AU. Essentially Belos has other plans for the isles than what canon Belos has, less genocidal y’know. He’s also the father of the Collector, who in this AU is around Hunters age, maybe a little older. Caleb’s alive (yay!) and is Philips Golden Guard, though all the past guard were not Grimwalkers. The sequence of the show follows pretty much the same trajectory but a little warped with a new antagonist. As Belos, while morally ambiguous and not the greatest of person, is not the main antagonist. I have a lot of fun ideas for how season 3 May play out but I have to figure out what to doing with the day of unity now.

Design wise I just spiced them up a bit, belos didn’t change all too much, as I think his design is pretty good at being regal yet, scary. Caleb was a tough one, I didn’t want him to look just like a generic golden guard because he isn’t, technically he’s the Duke but Caleb doesn’t want to use that title. Hunter has now been demoted I suppose to the golden scout! Essentially the next in line to be golden guard when the current retires or dies. Caleb has gone through quite a few Golden Scouts at this point, Darius even being one until Caleb suggested him to pursue the Abominations Coven. So finally we have the Collector who is named Salem (because Philip thinks he’s funny) they’re gonna be a tough one to write but my aim is to keep him similar to canon, just older. Anywho, if any of you have questions feel free to send a ask!

[ilguna]

supply run, aisle 1 with the prompts #1 & #17 with octavia blake, please?

☼ headspace (Octavia Blake) ☼

warnings; swearing, gun mention, ehh gore, blood mention, knife usage, death, bugs beneath the skin.

wc; 4k

prompt; 1. Always looking out for each other's safety. AND 17. Denying their relationship strongly.

notes; spoilers for s5ep5.

--

“They don’t know we’re coming, so all three northern passes will be wide open.” Octavia starts. She’s standing over a map, three fingers placed over the drawn houses. “But the village will be fortified.” She looks up at Obika. “Where’s the water source?”

He briefly points to a spot on the map. “Here.”

“Why? What are you thinking?” Indra asks.

The front door opens suddenly without an announcement, causing you and Cooper to look over at the intruders. Miller enters first, pulling his hood down, lips pressed together. He was supposed to have left to begin scouting ten minutes ago.

Behind him is Clarke, who moves around the other side of the table. “My question exactly.”

“Miller, your orders were to go—” Cooper begins, cutting off the end of Clarke’s sentence. 

“I know my orders.” Miller shuts her down. “I think we should listen to what Clarke has to say.” 

Octavia’s eyebrows raise as she turns to face Clarke. “You can’t take the sea route.” She says, shaking her head.

“Why? You said the sea is gone.” Indra says. “Is it passable or not?”

“Yes, maybe. But you have to understand—”

“Maybe’s good enough for me.” Octavia tells them, starting to head for the open door. “Let’s move out.”

Bellamy jumps in front of her, causing several of the warriors in the room to immediately pull out their weapons, aiming it at him. You reach out to grab Octavia’s elbow, wanting to move her away from him, but let it drop. They’re family, he’s not going to hurt her.

“O.” Bellamy warns. 

“Stand down.” Octavia says. 

“Please, O, just hear us out.” He says in a lighter tone.

“OCtavia, we’re all on the same team.” Clarke says, Octavia turns, you catch the glimpse of her smirk before the shadow of her hood covers her face. “No one wants to get to that valley more than me. It’s my home. But this way is too risky.”

“Risky how?” You ask.

There’s a brief silence, before Octavia says, “Show me.”

Clarke passes in front of her to get to the second map they have laid out. “You chose the shortest route, which makes sense, but the dry seabed is hit by almost constant sandstorms.”

“We have the tents from the second dawn. Sand won’t be a problem.” Octavia tells her.

“It’s not just sand. Some of it crystallized in Praimfaya. I’m talking shards of glass like razor blades. Your tents will be torn to shreds and so will you.”

“Blodreina is right.” Cooper interjects. “Besides, we can only carry rations for seven days. The sea route will take six. The next shortest path adds fifty miles. That’s two days if we’re lucky.”

“How do we know there won’t be sandstorms on the longer routes?” Indra asks.

“Enough.” Octavia says. “We’re doing this. The hydrofarm is barely feeding us now, so if this is the last living valley on Earth, then it should be ours.”

“Diyoza thinks the same thing.” Bellamy says.

“And so we fight.” Octavia tells him. 

This is the final word, and therefore the signal to clean up. Obika and Cooper reach for the maps, folding them to keep them safe when you bring them on the trip. You share a long look with Octavia, that ends with you nodding, telling her that you’re with her. You’ll follow her as long as she’ll let you. 

She heads for the door, brushing past Bellamy. You’re quick to follow her onto the street, because this means that it’s time to get moving. This was just the final meeting before marching to ensure that everyone in higher power were on the same page about the travel. 

“Are you ready?” Octavia asks.

“Yes, I’ve got everything.” 

“Good.”

“First battalion! Mount up!” Indra’s ordercuts through the air.

—

“We honor those who died so we might live.” Octavia says with her eyes closed, head tilted downward.

You sit on her right, carefully balanced on a box so that you’re able to cross your legs. You lay out your part of the rations in front of you, carefully breaking it into pieces to make it seem like you have more. Or that it’s actually a proper meal.

“Omon gon oson.” Octavia says, tilting her head back.

“Omon gon oson.” You repeat, joining the choir of the circle. 

It means ‘All of me for all of us’. If you put all your efforts into Wonkru, and everyone else does the same, that means everyone benefits. The sacrifices that Octavia makes—the difficult ones especially—are done for the greater good of the clan. If you work together, you survive together.

“Omon gon oson.” 

Octavia sits, taking a piece of the ration from your lap. You don’t object, this is normal. Usually, you pass around the rations until there’s none left, that way everyone shares. It keeps from resource guarding, a problem that you faced only once in the bunker, and it was catastrophic. However, Octavia prefers if you have your own pile that she can pick out of.

If the others were to reach for it, you wouldn’t stop them. You don’t think Octavia would, either, but it wouldn’t end well. The only people that you’ve properly shared with are Cooper and Indra, and that’s because you all work on the same playing field. You’re equals. They’re entitled to your food, just as much as you’re entitled to theirs.

You eat in silence, slowly dwindling your supply. Out of curiosity, you glance over your shoulder to check on Bellamy and Clarke, who’d decided to sit a few feet away on their own boxes. They’d decided back at the bunker that they were going to join you on the way to the valley, regardless of the fact that Clarke doesn’t think this is the best way to go.

Your eyes only find Bellamy, sitting alone, walkie in his hand. Clarke must’ve turned herself in for the night already. 

“Your brother loves you, Octavia.” Indra suddenly says.

“Love is weakness.” Octavia says back. 

An ache begins in your chest when you hear her say that. You turn away from Bellamy, looking back at the fire in the center of the circle. When you look at Indra, her lips are pressed together, face washed with sympathy.

“Gaia’s teachings, no doubt.” Indra says. “I hoped she was beyond such nonsense.”

“It isn’t nonsense.” Octavia mutters. Her eyes are open now, staring right at her friend. “Love no one… and no one can hurt you.”

You swallow thickly, looking down at the rations, finding only a few pieces left. You pick one of them up, passing it to your right, away from Octavia. This earns you a brief glimpse in your direction. 

You’re no longer hungry. In fact, you’d like to escape this conversation as fast as possible. 

“I love you.” Indra tells her, and they share a long look. “Does that make me weak?”

Octavia is uncomfortable, you can tell in the way she quickly shakes her head and faces the fire. “I would never say that to you, Seda.”

She would say it to me, you think bitterly.

A sigh escapes you, hands moving to ball up the cloth you’d laid out for the food. You don’t care where it goes or who it feeds, all you know is that you’re done. You hold it out for Indra to take, watching as her face twists, but not a single word comes to her mouth. You jerk it out in her direction to take. And when she finally does, you get to your feet.

“Where are you going?” Octavia asks, looking up at you.

“To patrol.” 

“They don’t need you out there.” She shoots back.

You open your mouth to counter, when a scream cuts you off. You turn in the direction, eyes searching the darkness of the desert for who it’s coming from.

“Help!”

“We need help!” A man overlaps the first.

“It’s the scouts.” Indra says.

At once, everyone raises to their feet to be on defense. Octavia takes a step forward. “Miller, what is it?”

“Medic! We need help! It’s Obika!” Miller shouts back.

“I’ll get the med kit.” Clarke tells them, taking off.

“Please help us!” MIller’s got Obika thrown over his shoulder, running in your direction. “He needs help!”

“Are we under attack?” Octavia asks.

“I don’t know what’s wrong!” He carefully pulls Obika down, laying him in the sand. He’s only on the ground for a second before he starts convulsing, thrashing around, twisting in uncomfortable angles. “Please! Hurry! Someone help him!”

No one moves forward.

“Out of my way. I can help.” Clarke says, pushing through the ring that’s gathered.

“Not you.” Cooper tells her, stopping her.

Obika continues to scream, growing exhausted, until he stops altogether, panting. 

“Octavia.” Clarke says.

“Let her in.”

Cooper lets Clarke free, allowing her to get down and assess Obika. She checks his pulse, and her face relaxes some, but not enough. “He’s alive, but his heart’s racing.”

“What the hell happened out there?” Octavia asks Miller.

“We separated to cover more ground. Then I hear him screaming out that they’re everywhere. Then I get to him and there’s nothing. It’s just more screaming and—”

Obika’s stomach moves from the inside. There’s several gasps of surprise, as everyone takes a step back. You grab Octavia, pulling her toward you, shielding her from Obika.

“There’s something inside him.” Clarke breathes. “I need a better spot to examine him.”

“The tent.” You suggest, looking at Octavia. She presses her lips together, head tilted to the side, not exactly a fan of it. “Where else?”

“Fine.” She agrees. 

Miller, Bellamy and a few of the others come together to lift Obika from the ground and carry them to Octavia’s main tent. There’s an arms-length distance between Obika and those who are carrying him, afraid that they might get whatever’s inside of him.

“Hurry!” Miller ushers. “Get him in the tent. Get him in the tent.”

You hold open one of the flaps, watching as the group comes in one by one, with Clarke taking up the rear. “Nobody else comes inside.”

“Move!” Miller demands. 

“Right here.” Bellamy directs. “Put him on the table.”

The table they’re talking about holds the maps and lanterns that were laid out earlier, and no one bothered to clean up. You work to clear the wood, allowing them to lay Obika on top. And then immediately hold him down to keep him from thrashing the same way he did in the sand.

“Help me get his jacket off.” Clarke says.

“Clarke, what is this?” Indra asks. 

“I don’t know.” She shifts her attention. “MIller, tell us exactly what happened.”

“Nothing happened. We stopped to eat. Then we separated again. Next thing I knew, he was screaming.”

“Your rations. Show me.”

“Nothing’s wrong with our rations.” Cooper says.

“He was eating when it happened.”

“Cooper’s right. If it was the rations, Miller would have it, too.” Octavia says. “They share everything.”

“Well, it got in him somehow.” Clarke reasons.

Bellamy grabs the lantern, bringing it to a spot on Obika’s leg. “Wait.” When he touches the area, his hand turns red, stained with blood. Cooper works quickly to pull up the pant leg, revealing a puncture wound on Obika’s shin. “Look.”

“It came from the sand.” Clarke says, eyes widening. “We have to go back.”

“What? No.” Octavia’s face twists.

“Octavia, he told MIller that they were everywhere.”

“Yes, but Miller just said he saw nothing.” Octavia tells her.

“Everywhere could mean everywhere inside him.” Cooper says.

“Yeah, but what if they went back inside the sand when Obika started screaming?” You ask.

“I agree with Blodreina.” Cooper tells you with direct eye contact.

“What a surprise.” Indra snarks.

There’s a moment of tense silence that fills the room, where no one moves or says anything, as if they don’t want a fight to break out. You narrow your eyes at Cooper, because you’ve been finding it difficult to get along with her lately. Or like her at all.

“We march on at first light.” Octavia says, moving away from Obika. 

“And Obika?” Miller asks, standing up from his leaned position.

Octavia tilts her head slightly, coming back over to the table. “If he’s not better by then…” She stands over him with closed eyes, which is a telling sign of what she’s about to say next. She doesn’t even have to, if she doesn’t want to. “I’ll end his pain myself.”

She turns, leaving the tent, the flaps whooshing behind her. Cooper is quick to follow.

Clarke and Bellamy share a look, and then they turn their attention to you. You shake your head slightly. “There’s nothing I can do, don’t look at me for help.”

“You can’t talk to her? It’s dangerous to be out here, especially if there’s parasites in the sand.” Clarke says, motioning to the ground.

“She doesn’t value my opinion in the same way she does with Indra or Cooper. I could try to talk to her, but she’ll shut me down and cast me out for the rest of the night. I’m not looking for a fight.” You tell them.

“There’s going to be a fight either way.” Bellamy says. “It’s not decided on what yet.”

“I’m going to stay with Obika.” Clarke says with a sigh, practically ending the discussion.

“I’ll stay with you.” Bellamy offers.

You start toward the flaps, pressing your lips together. You go back to the fire, finding that your original spot has been untouched. You take a seat on the box, crossing your legs, staring at the flickering flames.

You’re left alone for a while, allowing you to think. Nothing helpful comes to mind.

The scouts begin shouting nearby, a warning that something is coming, they can hear it through the sand. You don’t pay attention, not until Octavia comes out from the tents, being shadowed by Indra and Cooper. That’s when you turn, curious on what they could be worried about. 

Well, in fairness, you should be worried, too. 

In the distance, you can see dark clouds barely passing over mountains, moving quickly through the desert. Lightning flashes brightly, aggressively, a sign that this is no ordinary storm. This is an evolution of what Praimfaya had caused.

Clarke passes you, coming to a stop. Her lips are parted, staring at the nightmare that’s approaching. “Sandstorm.”

“It’s blocking the way back.” Bellamy says.

“Can we outrun it?” Indra asks.

“As long as it keeps moving laterally from east to west, we shouldn’t have to, but if the wind shifts—”

“The wind hasn’t met Wonkru.” Octavia says, turning around to face the group that’s gathered behind her. Her eyes land on you briefly, where you’re still sitting next to the dying fire. “Now there’s no choice. We keep moving.”

“Keep moving?” Bellamy asks, jumping in her way. “Thanks to you, we’re stuck between razor-blade winds and burrowing, parasitic bugs.” 

“Thanks to you, we’re at war, Bellamy.” Her voice is grave. 

“Only if you insist on fighting it.”

“Fight or die. That’s all there is. You don’t understand. I get it. Because you’re not one of us.”

“Is Obika one of you?” Bellamy shoots back, glancing at the tent over his shoulder. “Hmm? Because you’re about to end his life like he means nothing.”

Cooper moves forward, planning to end Bellamy’s disrespect. You get to your feet now, hand swiping at her elbow to keep her from touching him, yanking her away.

“I understand that.” Bellamy says to Octavia.

“Let go of me.” Cooper tries to pull her arm from your grasp.

“Do not touch him.” Your eyes bore into hers.

“Or what?” She challenges. “He’s being disrespectful. I can’t tolerate that.”

“She can handle it.” You snap.

Cooper stands taller, rolling her shoulders, despite the fact that you still have her arm in your hand. “Do you have something you want to say?”

“Cooper, no.” Octavia tells her.

“Show some respect.” One of the scouts says.

“Bellamy.” Clarke warns.

“Easy.” Octavia has her eyes on Bellamy. “I’d stop if I were you.”

You let go of Cooper, but your expression doesn’t change.

Obika’s screaming interrupts the conversation, drawing Clarke to him. “He’s awake.”

Bellamy follows after her, but you don’t move right away, shaking your head at Octavia. 

“I don’t want to hear it from you.” She says. “Don’t lay hands on Cooper.”

“You don’t want to hear anything from me.” Your face twists. “I mean nothing to you. You said so yourself.”

You walk away, heading for the tent. By the time you enter with Octavia, they’re holding Obika down. When you look in the middle, you find that the parasite inside is pushing at his stomach, growing bigger by the second, trying to escape.

And then they do.

They burst out, blood flying through the air. You shield your face with your arm, listening to the screeching of the bugs and the squelching of the blood from Obika’s stomach. Someone must knock over a lantern, because the room begins to flash with white.

“Everybody out! Now! Go!” Bellamy shouts.

As you begin to run, a piercing pain hits your forearm. You clutch the area, thinking that you’ve been hit with one of the broken poles, and duck out of the tent. From the corner of your eye, you see Indra reach for one of the torches.

Your vision suddenly goes white, the strength in your knees being pulled from you, as a scream leaves your lips. You hit the sand, teeth grit as you hold onto your arm tighter, throwing your head back.

“Indra!” Octavia shouts. “Burn it down! Kill them all!”

“(Y/n)!” Clarke is right above you, grabbing at your arm, pulling it to your side. “Stop, stop!”

When you open your eyes, you’re already facing your arm, and you’re immediately met with the sight of one of the parasites crawling beneath your skin. A heavy wave of nausea hits you, forcing you to look away before you’re sick.

“What happened?” Octavia demands.

“I don’t know.” Clarke says. “Is there another tent we can go in?”

“Why?” Cooper asks, taking her eyes off the burning tent.

Octavia pales when she sees you on the ground. “Get her up, now!” 

Indra and Bellamy work together to pull you to your feet, which work for the first few seconds, until the tops of your thighs begin to tingle, working its way down. By the time you’re halfway to the tent, all feeling is gone, they’re just deadweight attached to your body.

“I can’t feel my legs.” You tell them, Octavia holds open the flaps.

“It must be its venom.” Clarke says. They drop you in a seat, with Indra standing behind you to hold you upright. “Put her arm on the table.” They flatten your arm against the table, putting the parasite on display. “We can’t let it get into her torso.”

You share a panicked look with Octavia. She steps forward, grabbing your free hand, and squeezing it tightly.

“I need you to make a tourniquet out of whatever you can find.” Clarke tells Bellamy. “And get me a med kit.”

“There were dozens of those worms.” Cooper says, standing off to the side. “They must lay their eggs—”

“Enough.” Octavia snaps.

“Thank you! Go!” Clarke yells at her.

“I’m right here.” Octavia squeezes your hand. “Look at me. We got this.”

You shake your head slightly. Clarke begins to wrap a cloth around your upper arm, tying it tightly.

“Will that stop it?” Bellamy asks.

“It’s not for the worm. It’s for the blood.” Clarke pants. The worm must hit the barrier, because it begins to press against it, trying to get past. You squeeze Octavia’s hand tighter, tears appearing in your eyes. “I need a knife now!”

“What are you waiting for?” Octavia asks.

“(Y/n), you gotta stop moving.”

“It fucking hurts.” You say shakily.

“Whatever you’re going to do, do it.” Indra tells Clarke.

“Okay, this is gonna hurt.” Clarke warns, and then she stabs her knife into your arm.

You try to hold your breath, not wanting to scream. White stars on a black background begin to appear within seconds, pressure building in your head. You can feel Octavia squeezing your hand, encouraging you to do it back. 

“Clarke? Clarke, you’re gonna lose it.” Bellamy says. 

“Like hell I am.” She says, digging around. “I got it! Stay still.” 

“Clarke, just pull it out.” Octavia tells her. “She’s going to pass out.”

“Please, if you can hear me, this is an emergency.” A voice comes over Bellamy’s radio.

“I got this. Take it.” Clarke tells him.

Bellamy pulls it out. “Monty, it’s me. Something tells me we got your emergency beat.”

“I doubt that. The prisoners have an eye in the sky on the mothership, and a missile system on their transport ship.” Monty tells him. Bellamy looks up, Octavia grits her teeth. 

“Missiles?” Clarke asks. 

“They're on their way to you right now. You have to move. Hide somewhere. Take cover.”

“Clarke, get this over with.” You tell her.

“One second.”

“Hide from an eye in the sky? How are we supposed to do that?” Bellamy asks.

“Murphy says we have a friend inside. If he’s right, the eye won’t be watching. You have a window, but you have to move now.” Monty tells him.

Clarke begins to pull, and you watch as this long and fat bug gets pulled out of your arm. The second it’s out, there’s instant relief, but also a painful ache in your muscle from where it had been playing around. The bug begins to screech, Clarke drops the parasite into a thermos, covering the lid.

“Where do we find cover from missiles in the middle of a wasteland?” Indra asks.

Your hand loosens on Octavia’s, her knuckles begin to turn back to their original color. She reaches to push the hair that’s stuck to your forehead, out of your face. 

“If they see us retreat, they’ll stand down.” Clarke says.

“You still don’t understand. Wonkru does not retreat.”

“You do if you want to live.” Bellamy says.

“Now is not the time for a debate. Even if we did retreat, the path home puts us in the middle of a sandstorm.” Indra’s got her eyes on Octavia.

She doesn’t care, teeth baring, “Those ruins are not our home.” She grabs onto your shoulder, leaning forward. “That valley is, and we’re taking it back.” She looks at Bellamy. “Get ready to understand.”

Octavia leaves, this time no one follows after her. You’ve managed to get a handle on your breathing, but your hands are shaking so badly that you can’t grab onto anything properly.

“How are you two together but you’re not able to talk sense into her?” Bellamy breaks the silence, looking at you.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” You tell him. “We’re not together.” You raise your eyebrows, motioning in the direction she went. “That’s why I can’t talk to her. She’s afraid of loving me, which is why she can’t value my opinion, Bellamy. And I’ve tried everything to get out of this position, for better and worse, and I get nowhere.”

“How is that possible? In the past—”

“She’s not in the right headspace.” You interrupt Clarke. “That’s what she told me and I’m tired of trying to convince her otherwise. If you want help, you’ll go to Indra. She’ll get Octavia to come to her senses.” You look at Clarke. “Can we please stitch up my arm, now?”

"So you can't get Octavia to listen to you, so you blindly support her?" Bellamy asks.

"Give me a better alternative without having her call me a traitor to Wonkru." You shoot back at him. "Because I am all out tries there, too. You should talk to Indra before it's too late."

Bellamy lets out a sigh, but takes your advice, pushing the flaps out of the way.

--

this was part of my 3k celebration!!

[jamisonwritestf2trash]

Mini Headcanon- The Best Compliment You Can Give Each TF2 Merc!

————————————————————

Basically, it's a short fluff piece!

I thought a nice little sweet headcanon was in order. Also, these old folks need some compliments >:)

————————————————————

Demo- "Great Aim!" or "You really gave them hell!"

Sometimes, he just wants to be reminded that even with a lack of depth perception and a generally low precision skill, he's still doing a good job. He also doesn't mind being reminded that he absolutely killed that day, it makes him feel confident in his skills.

————————————————————

Engie- "Good work!" or "We couldn't have gotten that win without you!"

Engie is a fan of small compliments or just feeling depended on. He gets really happy when people acknowledge the effort he puts into his work, even if it's just being told it was good. He also loves the idea that he helped cary the match with his efforts. It feels good to be recognized, you know?

————————————————————

Heavy- "You did well keeping us safe!" or "You're did amazing today!"

He loves being told that he did good being a protector. He just always wants to make sure his friends are okay! And being told he was doing good at that makes him so happy. He also just likes the small confidence boost of being told he did amazing.

————————————————————

Medic- "I trust you." or "You're a great asset to the team!"

Let's be honest, even throwing a thank you. This man's way is enough sometimes. But in general, he's so used to being called insane or "not a really doctor" that when someone says that they trust him, he's immediately happy. He also loves being told he's an asset, people forget how important his job actually is, and it hurts, so telling him that hes valued will make him giddy. (Not a healer main insert at all).

————————————————————

Scout- "You're doing great!" Or "I'm proud of you!"

He just wants to be told he's doing a good job, be reassured that he's not absolutely horrible at his job, or just be told that someone is proud of his efforts. Compliments like that make his day so much better. It reminds him that even if his day is shit, or if the other mercs are being assholes, he's still doing great no matter what .

————————————————————

Sniper- "Great shot!" Or "You were super impressive today!"

You'll never see an actual reaction from him, but being told he did good or that he was impressive makes him so happy internally. He's spent years getting good at his job. It's nice to hear that your effort paid off and that people notice your skills. It seems so little, but it makes him so happy 😭

————————————————————

Spy- "You look very nice today!" Or "You're very skilled at what you do."

Basically, anything that gives him an ego boost is the best compliment you can give him. "Of course I look good," or "We're there any doubts of my skills?" Are common replies, but God forbid you don't compliment him at least once after every round. He gets so sulky/pissy.

————————————————————

Soldier- "You're making your country proud with work like that!" or "I'm happy I get to work along side you!"

He loves being told he's making people proud, but the idea that his country is proud is a whole other thing. He gets so thrilled to hear that, like this man is smiling for the rest of the day. Getting told people are happy to work along side him is a feeling he loves, he's used to people not really being near him a lot due to his intense nature, but when people ignore that and actually seem okay with, he gets like a million times happier.

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Pyro- "You were on fire today!" or "You were really impressive today!"

They love fire puns, but they also love just generally being complimented for their skills. They work really hard! They just want to hear silly fire themed compliments and puns after murdering someone in cold blood you know? Being told they impressed someone is also a great feeling for them, I don't think they hear that as much as they'd like.

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Ough, I love them, sorry this was short, and probibly a little repetitive in some areas, but I really just wanted to get a cute fic out, and break up the medic posting! I also got two asks for all the mercs so those should be out very soon!

[clemblog]

Caine’s Lesson - Part 7

•

Gummigoo wasn't kidding when he said his Ma's food was good. Caine's food from that one evening after the gloinks couldn't compare. It was full of so much more flavour and taste.

"Penny for your thoughts, Poms?" Grinned Gummigoo, coming to sit across from her with his own bowl.

"You weren't kidding when you said it was good-" Mused Pomni, sheepishly.

He chuckled at such.

"We don't lie round these parts Poms, you'll learn that quick if you stick with us."

"I-It'll be fun to see!" Smiled Pomni, shyly with a hum. "So... When do you wanna do the uh shooting practice?"

"Ah yeah! I figured once we've eaten, I'll speak to Ma real quick and then we can get started! Sound good to you?"

"T-That sounds good to me-"

"Snazzy."

The two continued to eat happily with occasional words of conversation, mostly happy to just exist aside one another.

It was the peace Pomni had been wanting for the last few days.

It was the peace Gummigoo hadn't known he'd needed for the last few weeks.

The pair were soon headed over to a little clearing by the main ranch house. It was surrounded by fencing and had a few shabby targets nailed together at the end.

"Welcome to Pa's shooting range, Poms." Grinned Gummigoo. "This is where I learned to shoot, and now it's where you'll learn too!"

"I-I'm excited to learn!" Beamed Pomni, sheepishly.

"I'm glad to hear that! Now come stand here."

Pomni moved to stand in front of the mark. She looked up and saw she was stood inline with the centre target.

"First, we'll work on accuracy!"

He moved to stand behind her and crouched down. He tenderly placed his pistol into her hands, making sure to position her hands on the right position.

"Now, this is how you hold ya pistol! Try to hold it like this as much as you can, otherwise the force back from after you shoot can hurt ya hand. And you don't wanna do that, trust me, I learnt from experience."

"N-Noted! Hold the gun safely- As much as you can-"

He hummed at this approvingly with a nod. "Now, what you wanna do is line up this little eye piece right about here on the target."

He slowly moved her aim into position.

"You would think to aim here, right? Well, these bad boys are different! Pa made em on an angle, so wild shots have a higher chance of being accurate. Does mean however that every casual shot you take is gotta be on an angle."

“Right..” Nodded Pomni, slowly.

“Now all you gotta do is click here.” He hummed softly, guiding her hand with his atop it to the trigger.

*Bang!*

Pomni had successfully shot a gun!

“I did it!” She grinned, looking up to Gummigoo.

“You sure did Pommy!” He hummed, returning the grin. “You were so close to a bullseye but hey, practice makes perfect, aye?”

“Definitely!”

He helped her take a few more shots, only sitting back to watch when Pomni felt confident enough to shoot on her own. She was picking up the skill amazingly fast! It was natural talent Gummigoo hadn’t seen in a while- He most definitely would have to talk to Ma about making Poms her own gun. He watched the way she’d flinch back a little from the force of his gun. If she had one accustomed to her, he had a hunch she’d be shooting better than Max and Chad in no time!

Ma was awfully busy though with all the Candy Kingdom Citizens, so he figured he might as well take some time in the next evening to make Pomni a gun! That way she would be well equipped to join himself, Max and Chad on scouting adventures.

So, that’s what he set off to do! Leaving Poms to her practice.

•

Zooble was sat watching Gangle draw in her notebook when Kinger and Ragatha came over.

“H-Hi you guys!” Squeaked Gangle, softly in her usual tone.

“Hey.” Nodded Gangle.

“Hello!” Smiled Ragatha, gently. “Is it okay if we join you? Kinger thought it may be a good idea if I hung out with you guys for a bit to try and get my mind off Pomni-“

“O-Oh sure!” Nodded Gangle.

The two sat down.

A content silence fell over the group, the only sound being the scratch of Gangle’s pencil. After a few minutes work, she ripped out a page and handed it out to Ragatha.

“I-I know you’re sad about Pomni s-so I figured I might do you a drawing of her so it feels like she’s still with you!” She explained, sheepishly.

Ragatha was quiet for a few minutes looking over the sketch of her with Pomni.

“…GANGLE THIS IS SO SWEET OF YOU-“

Gangle squeaked as she was pulled into a crushing hug by Ragatha, her happy mask flung off but was caught by Zooble luckily.

“Gosh! I’ll have to make you something in return- This is to perfect Gangle!” Beamed Ragatha.

“O-Oh! Alright-“ Smiled Gangle, sheepishly as Zooble gently placed her happy mask back onto her face.

“You tell me what you want and I’ll get on it! Or I can make it a surprise-“

“A surprise could be fun-“ Murmured Gangle, shyly.

“A surprise it is then!”

Zooble put an assuring arm around Gangle sensing her growing anxiety from being overwhelmed by Ragatha’s sudden excitement.

Things weren’t perfect right now, but at least they had each other!

Part 8