#long-haired Wolffe seems unlikely but here we are

[ominouspuff]

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[mqgriett]

Crosshair- The Exam

Prompt: “You’re the only thing that matters”

Pairings: Crosshair x Fem!reader

Warnings: none!

Summary: you’ve been studying your ass off for a month trying to prepare for the exam that will dictate whether or not you get to go back to the 104th battalion as a medic. 

Notes: IM SORRY THIS IS SO LONG thank you sm for requesting @lightning-wolffe

You shut off your data pad and pushed it under your armpit, squeezing it with your bicep to not let it fall from your grip as you open your textbook. Before you received the chance to re-read your highlighted notes you felt a tap on your shoulder. 

“I heard that your boys landed in Hangar 5.” Kix chirped, pointing behind him with his thumb. He ran his opposite hand through his short brown hair, smiling kindly. 

You hummed in response, your attention mostly focused on your annotations. The big exam, one that basically determined whether or not you were allowed to return to your assigned Clone Force, was in three days. Every quiet moment was spent with you cracking open a textbook or reviewing your notes. Now that you thought about it, when was the last time you ate… or slept?

Kix quickened his pace and moved in front of you, using his index finger to push your book down to properly view your face. “You know the exam isn’t for another three days, right?” he asked. 

You pressed your lips in a thin line, “Unfortunately not everyone has a memory like yours. I need to study.” you said, closing your book and bopping him on the head with it lightly. 

He took the textbook from your hands, holding it up in the air until it was out of your reach. “Fives!” he called to someone you couldn’t see, “Batchers still here?” 

Behind you, the ARC trooper nodded, “Gonna be here for the next coupla hours. Engine is shot.” 

Kix let his guard down just long enough for you to grab your study materials back. You gently nudged him to the side and walked past, just wanting to get back to your quarters and study. 

The medic gave up, hurrying to catch up with Fives as you walked in the opposite direction. 

Were you dying to see the Bad Batch? Absolutely.

Did you have the time to? Unfortunately not.

Someone (a medic from the 212th apparently, but you tried not to believe rumors) had fucked up a month ago, and it costs you your privilege of being an on-site medic. All field nurses were sent back to Coruscant to retake the big medical exam to prove that they could still serve as medics. 

Unlike Kix, you took it very seriously. Getting anything below a 80% would make your chances of returning small. Only the top 45% of nurses would go back to their battalions while the other 55% stayed on Coruscant to continue their studies. 

The large metal door to your room slid open as you scanned your hand and you stepped inside. Without looking up, you wandered to your desk, which was covered in an assortment of different papers and sticky notes. 

Still reading your textbook, you typed in the access code for your online notes. After a few seconds an automated female voice began to quiz you on questions you had written down two weeks ago.

You stood up and undressed yourself, lazily pulling a dark brown shirt over your head and letting your hair fall loose from the bun that had sat on your head for the majority of the day. 

“Define Choledocholithiasis.” said the voice. 

“Stones in the gallbladder or common bile duct” you replied effortlessly, shuffling to your bathroom to fill the water compartment for your caf. 

You plugged the machine into the wall, allowing the slow drip of heavenly brown liquid to start as you sat back down at your desk. It gave you a moment to think about everything. Realistically, you were more qualified than half the shinies going in to take the exam. 

Kriff, you were wasting your time here. 

You pushed back from your desk and slid on the first pair of shoes that were near your door. 

The halls had quieted down for the most part, most of the clones eating dinner or heading to bed if they had an early start tomorrow morning. 

Massaging your scalp and yawning, you made your way to Hangar 5. 

You looked a little tired, but it didn’t matter as long as you got to see Crosshair. You knew none of them would care but especially not him, in the small window of time you two got alone he frequently told you how much he loved your messy hair. He wasn’t much of a verbal communicator when it came to your relationship, but he always made up for it in physical gestures. 

Rounding the final corner, your eyes began to scan the busy hangar for the marauder. You took back your thought from earlier, seeing that Hangar 5 was a lot more busy than you had anticipated. 

At least two different squadrons were shipping out, from what you could tell it was the 104th and 312th battalions. The blurred figures of grey and green armor made it difficult to keep your focus on one thing at a time. 

You carefully started to walk along the wall, ducking until a small cruiser as a short cut. 

After another ten minutes of searching you finally spotted a familiar face in the bottom right corner of the hangar. 

Tech typed away at his data pad, turning to shout something up at Wrecker, who was sitting on the top of the ship and swinging his legs like a mad man. 

Despite the excitement bubbling in your stomach, you took your time walking over to them. It was nice to just observe and laugh at their behavior for a few minutes, it lifted your spirits.

Once you were within vision to Wrecker, he didn’t hesitate to point and shout at you from the top of the Marauder. 

“Tech!” You called as he mindlessly searched for you in the crowd of people. 

He grinned widely, opening his arms up as you jogged over to him. He hugged you tightly, another pair of large arms suddenly wrapping around both of you. 

Wrecker finally set you two down, giving you an individual hug and swaying you from side to side. At one point you were almost choking. 

“Thought you were studying for the exam.” Tech said skeptically, eyeing you as if you would ever hide something from him. 

You shrugged, “priorities” you peeked over his shoulder, looking for a specific person. 

Tech noticed your wandering eyes and smiled, “Cross is taking inventory with Cody.” 

“Where’s Sarg?” you asked, linking your arm into his. 

“Talking to some of the blue regs.” Wrecker replied loudly, making a few of the 501st soldiers turn to look at him. The large clone was never one to be secretive when it came to addressing the other clones as “regs”. It often drew attention to the group, not necessarily the good kind either. 

From a distance you could see Hunter walking back towards the Marauder with Fives, both of them with their helmets at their hips. 

Sarg’s eyes lit up at the sight of you, his pace quickening as his urge to be with you grew. He hugged your torso tightly, allowing his arm to sling around your shoulder loosely afterwards. 

“It’s been a while.” He said, gently nudging you away from Fives before the ARC trooper could talk.

“It’s been two months. And I always call.” You replied, smiling. 

“You look exhausted.” Hunter pointed out quickly, looking down at the bags under your eyes. 

You shrugged, “could say the same for you Sarg.”

You four situated yourselves underneath the Marauder, sitting on top of a few power supplies and food crates. Hunter sat next to you, Wrecker and Tech mirroring both of you. 

“We were told you wouldn’t be coming down.” Hunter said, leaning back on his elbows. 

You raised a skeptical brow, “who told you that?”

“Fives” he answered nonchalantly, “why else would I be talking to him?”

His comment made your eyes roll, “be nice.” You warned, poking his stomach where armor didn’t cover him. 

Hunter swatted your hand away, briefly turning his head and smiling. “Look who’s back,” he jutted his thumb behind him, pointing to the two other clones making their way back to the ship.

Cody held a clipboard loosely at his side as he spoke to Crosshair, who carried his helmet against his hip. The 212th trooper laughed at something he said before saluting the sniper and walking in the opposite direction. 

You always seemed to forget how handsome Cross was in person. The blue hologram of him during your brief calls did nothing for his strong jawline and high cheekbones. The scruff along his jaw and neck was slightly more visible now, a grey shadow lingering along it. 

Pushing yourself off the crate, you broke into a swift jog towards him. For someone with perfect eyesight, he didn’t notice you coming until you were a few meters away. 

He opened his arms up, catching you perfectly as you jumped to him. 

His long arms held your waist completely as he lowered you to the ground, back arched due to his height compared to yours.“Didn't think you would come.” he said softly in your ear, his voice alone producing butterflies in your stomach. 

“I wanted to see you.” you replied, pulling away from him and moving to his side. 

Crosshair sent a small smirk to you, which was enough to indicate that he felt the same way. 

You walked side by side back to the rest of the group, shoulders touching and hands grazing against one another’s. The gestures were sweet, like the type you would make in school when you were younger. They were enough to make the other person feel loved without drawing too much attention. 

The Bad Batch, plus you, sat underneath their ship once more as the rest of the 104th took off in their ships. You waved to Sinker and Comet from the opposite side of the hangar, tossing over-dramatic kisses in their direction while they climbed up the steps. Another mission for them, one that you wouldn’t be going to. 

“When do you expect to return?” Tech asked from the top of his crate. You had situated yourself on a lower case, one that was used to store bombs and other small explosives. It kept you about seven or eight inches off the ground while Crosshair took your spot next to Hunter. 

You let out a long sigh, “I don’t even know if I’ll go back.”

“They need ya out there.” Wrecker replied, crossing his large legs like a child would. 

Crosshair could sense your unease and pushed himself off the crate, settling on the ground in front of you and leaning back so his head pressed against your chest. He let out a small chuckle, no doubt feeling your heartbeat quicken for a few moments. “They’ll take you back.” he said calmly, reaching for your hand and placing it atop his head. 

You began to run your fingers through his short, grey hair. “If I don’t get above an 80% then I’m not going back.” You mumbled. 

“Why 80?” Hunter asked innocently. 

“Because she’s a girl.” Wrecker replied loudly, having absolutely zero common sense as to who could be listening. 

Crosshair tense underneath you, muscles tightening against your legs, “Wrecker.” he seethed, using his brother’s full name. 

Your face dropped, cheeks heating up. He was right, but hearing someone finally say it out loud made it worse. That was the real reason you had been dedicating so many weeks to studying. Even if Kix received a 45% and you an 80%, they would choose him over you. Clones were bred to be intelligent. You were just a girl who somehow got Senator Palpatine to assign you to a clone squadron. 

You wiggled your way out from under Crosshair, stepping over the low crate of explosives and walking up the steps of the Marauder. It was cold inside but the chill felt so nice against your hot body. 

In all honesty, you wanted to cry. You wanted to go back to your room and bawl your eyes out until you physically couldn’t produce tears anymore. But you knew you couldn’t, that would be showing weakness. 

Soft footsteps echoed behind you, Cross’s monotone voice ringing in your ears shortly after, “he didn’t mean that.”

You shook your head, “No no, he’s right.” 

He took a few steps towards you, gently reaching for your wrist and pulling you into him. He rested his chin on your head, “you’ll do great on the exam.” 

You pushed off of him, needing a bit of air to keep from crying. You shook your wrists out and looked up at the ceiling, it helped a little bit. “Just nervous.” you muttered. 

He stayed silent, not exactly sure how to comfort you. Words frequently failed him and in the rare occasion that you were upset Tech was able to calm you down, but not this time. Crosshair wanted to make you feel better, no matter what it took. 

You hated being this vulnerable around anyone, the panic in your stomach growing every second of silence that passed. 

Taking a deep breath, you began to walk past him, “I need to go, you have more important things to-” 

He caught your bicep and spun you back around, other hand holding the small of your back as he kissed you. It was a deep, passionate, yet chaste, kiss. You melted into his grip, leaning backwards to force his lips onto yours more. You held the sides of his face, the small scruff on his jaw feeling immaculate against your own. 

He rested your foreheads together and quietly, barely audibly, whispered, “you’re the only thing that matters.” 

You were about to kiss him again when Hunter, Tech, and Wrecker walked through the door. 

Hunter smiled, “Guess who’s got a new nurse on the team.”

Your head cocked to the side, Wrecker looking like he was about to explode from excitement at any moment. “We do!” he bellowed, “and it’s you!” 

Mouth hanging open, you looked from Crosshair to the other three. “What?”

“Welcome to Clone Force 99, medic.” Hunter answered proudly.

[silvermoongirl10swfics]

Learning to deal with emotionally crippling pain

For @codywanweek 2021 Day 2: AU (Modern University AU.)

You can also read this fic here on A03.

(The title of the fic will make sense after reading the fic.)

This is set at Manchester Metropolitan University in the UK, where I went to uni. As I wanted to combine the uni I loved going to with one of my favourite ships.

No major warnings, but there is a slight, non-graphic, description of how bodies were buried during the Black Death (this may seem very random, but I don’t want to gross anyone out.)

(I was inspired by @catawampuscorner​ drawing adorable baby clones in animal onesies, the cuteness now lives rent free in my brain and my brain desperately wanted to add baby clones and baby Jedi in animal onesies to this fic due to their wonderful drawings of the baby clones. So, I have referenced codywan and some other clones being youngsters in animal onesies near the end of this fic.)

Also Wolffe and Fox are twins because I thought of the idea about a month ago and loved it so much. 

Cody hefted his kit bag onto his shoulder and nodded in thanks to the bus driver as he stepped off the bus on Oxford Road. He turned hearing a loud thump and rolled his eyes, Fives had, against Cody’s and Rex’s advice, decided to sit on the top deck of the double-decker bus while carrying his heavy rugby kit bag. Unsurprisingly Fives stumbled and hit the wall of the stairs as he tried to walk down the steep steps, his bag over balancing him. Rex threw out an arm to steady their younger brother and then the two of them joined Cody on the pavement.

“We did warn you,” stated Rex with a roll of his eyes.

“Whatever,” griped Fives. Without another word, Fives was walking through All Saints Park, no doubt heading back to the student halls where he shared a flat with his twin Echo and six other first year students.

“I really hope Echo is better soon. I don’t know how much longer I can take Fives in this mood,” sighed Rex shaking his head.

“You and me both,” agreed Cody with a nod of his head at his younger brother.

Cody was the eldest of the four brothers, and was currently in his third and final year of studying his undergraduate history degree at Manchester Metropolitan University. Rex was eleven months younger than him and was in his second year studying law, Echo and Fives were their younger brothers who were twins. The family hadn’t thought that Fives was interested in going to university, which was fine with them as they didn’t want to push him into something he didn’t want. But when Echo announced his intention of going to study mathematics at the same university where Cody and Rex were studying, Fives suddenly announced that he was also going to Man Met to study physiotherapy. The twins were in their first year and two years ago, at eighteen, Cody had thought he would be getting some peace from his three younger brothers, in the end he only got one year of peace before his brothers joined him in quick succession. But thankfully he only had to put up with living with them when they were all home for the holidays. As Cody shared a one-bedroom flat with his long-term boyfriend Obi-Wan who had also chosen to study at Man Met, also in his third year, studying English literature. Obi-Wan and Cody had been best friends since their first day at primary school aged four, later confessing their romantic feelings for each other when they were sixteen, both coming down from the stress of getting their GCSE results. They hadn’t actually told each other where they were applying for university, not wanting to influence each other’s decision. But they still ended up at the same university anyway, not that Cody was complaining.

Like Cody, Obi-Wan had not been able to escape his younger brother. Anakin was friends with Fives and Echo as they were the same age, Anakin was in his first year studying engineering at Man Met. It was funny to Cody, because Echo and Anakin’s subjects were in the same faculty, they often saw each other as their lectures and seminars took place in the John Dalton buildings, whereas Fives went to lectures across the main road on the slightly smaller campus in the Brooks Building. Fives had always been protective of Echo, his reasoning being he was the older twin so had to look out for Echo. But after Echo got hurt in a car accident when they were fifteen driving home with their dad, Fives had grown even more protective, somehow blaming himself because he wasn’t there in the car with Echo. The youngest of the four brothers hadn’t been seriously hurt, but the accident had gained him a constant shadow. So, when the twins applied to the university, they looked at the map of the two campuses and picked Oxford Court for their student halls accommodation because it was pretty much in the middle of where the two of them would have their lectures and seminars.

With another look in the direction Fives had gone, feeling a rare moment of relief at seeing his brother walk away. Cody loved his brothers, but because Echo had gotten injured in their last rugby game, he couldn’t take part in practice and it had left Fives in a mood for the past week. Neither Echo, Cody or Rex could seem to talk Fives out of his mood, leading to Cody thinking he may have to call their parents to talk some sense into Fives. But he didn’t want to worry his mum, which is what would happen if Cody had to tell her Fives still wasn’t okay a week after Echo badly spraining his ankle. So, Cody’s only other option would be to call his twin cousins, Wolffe and Fox who were both in their third and final years of studying at the same university in London. Wolffe was studying sport science, while Fox was studying history like Cody, but with more of a focus on medical history while Cody preferred military history.

Wolffe and Fox were the closest cousins Cody and his brothers had, due to their parents all moving to Britain from New Zealand due to his father and uncle getting jobs with the same tech company before Cody, Wolffe and Fox were born. Leaving the rest of the aunts, uncles and cousins back in New Zealand with their grandparents. Cody then reflected, calling the other twins might not be a bad idea. Wolffe would be gruff but caring in talking to Fives and if that failed, Fox would just beat sense into him either verbally or physically. With there being direct trains from London to Manchester, Cody wouldn’t be surprised if Fox came in person to beat some sense into Fives. Fox had no patience for Fives’ protective older brother routine of Echo and that was down to Wolffe being protective of Fox. Which he hated, but to be fair to Wolffe, he was fully justified going by the amount of coffee and lack of sleep Fox was powering through to work on his assignments and dissertation. Despite the fact it was still January and Fox had three months left until he had to hand in his dissertation.

Thinking of dissertations, Cody waved goodbye to Rex and headed towards the cafeteria in the Business School building to get some tea for his boyfriend. Once he acquired the tea in a take away cup, he went next door to the library where Obi-Wan was working on his dissertation, thankful that their university library allowed food and drink as long as it was silent. Fox was insanely jealous as his university library forbade any food or drink to enter the building, meaning Fox was deprived of his precious coffee. Which was why Wolffe pushed Fox to work in the library as often as he could. Cody didn’t mind plying Obi-Wan with tea, because while he could say Obi-Wan was additive to his tea, he didn’t drink any caffeinated tea two hours before going to bed, unlike Fox who was known to drink a mug of coffee before going to bed if Wolffe hadn’t managed to stop him. It was a wonder Wolffe hadn’t gone grey with the amount of time he spent worrying over his twin brother.

Cody scanned his student card to let him past the barriers and started walking up the two flights of stairs to the floor Obi-Wan liked to work on. The library was massive, with its different wings and five floors, but Cody was glad it was so big because it could be divided into silent study areas and group study areas, where you could talk so long as you were quiet. Obi-Wan, like Cody, hated working in complete silence and in their first year they found a nook between some shelves that had a table where they could bring their own laptops to work on their essays together. But were conveniently close to university computers so they could log on to print their work if needed. It was also a space their brothers had been unable to find them in, although Cody was fairly certain Rex knew where he liked to work, but was kind enough to leave him alone. Anakin, Echo and Fives would not be as considerate.

He walked through the doors into the study area and walked halfway into the big room with its rows of computers and shelves of books, until he found Obi-Wan hunched over his notes and two books he was using for his dissertation. Cody silently reminded himself that he was due to meet with his dissertation supervisor tomorrow to check the progress on his second chapter. He placed the cup of tea on the table beside Obi-Wan’s laptop and pressed a kiss onto the mess of copper hair, noting that his boyfriend hadn’t shaved again, making him wonder if Obi-Wan was committing to growing a beard. If he did, it would be because Obi-Wan was fed up of people thinking he was sixteen or seventeen, rather than being almost twenty-one years old, something that delighted Anakin to no end. Obi-Wan slowly sat up and blinked owlishly at him and rubbed a hand over his face. “Rugby practice is over already?” he asked in confusion as he looked at his watch.

Cody snorted in amusement, “thankfully yes.” Obi-Wan had come to the library just after Cody left their flat for practice, that had been two and half hours ago.

Obi-Wan reached for his tea and sighed in pleasure when he sipped on the hot liquid. “Fives still in a mood then?”

“Yes,” he sighed in exasperation as he sat down beside Obi-Wan and putting his kit bag on the floor with a roll of his shoulder.

Raising a knowing eyebrow over the rim of his cup, Obi-Wan asked. “Are you going to call Wolffe and Fox?” Cody nodded in agreement, smiling to himself, happy at how easily Obi-Wan fit into his family. Obi-Wan, Cody, Wolffe and Fox had all gone through school together. Obi-Wan and Anakin’s dad, Qui-Gon, was a friend of Cody’s parents and often came over for dinner. According to his dad, Cody’s mum and Qui-Gon had been having wine nights when they lamented over their empty nests and how it was unfair how quickly their children were growing up. While Cody’s aunt just laughed at them because Wolffe and Fox had left home for university almost three years before.

They lapsed into silence, and Cody just let himself day dream as he listened to the clack of Obi-Wan’s keyboard. He also ran through a mental list of things he needed to do for his dissertation and thought he could do with another trip down to London to go to the National Archives again for some more primary sources. His phone buzzed and Cody snorted at the text message from Echo.

[Echo] Fives is in SUCH a bad mood! Please help me!

[Cody] Sorry Echo. Rex and I had him for two hours, we need a break.

[Echo] WORST BIG BROTHERS EVER!!!!

[Echo] I hope you marry Obi-Wan so I can adopt him as my favourite older brother.

[Echo] You know what. I’m not waiting until you marry him. He’s my favourite brother now.

Cody chuckled to himself, he couldn’t argue with Echo, Obi-Wan was his favourite person too.

[Cody] What WILL Fives say?

[Echo] Right now I don’t care. He’s driving me INSANE!!!!

[Cody] I was going to call Wolffe and Fox to see if they could help.

[Echo] PLEASE!!! I am BEGGING YOU!!!!

[Echo] You know what?

[Echo] Just skip straight to Fox.

[Echo] And record it. I want to relive that future moment for forever. Fox’s position as my favourite cousin will be secured.

Cody snorted in amusement again, Obi-Wan turned to him in question. So, Cody just showed him the messages and Obi-Wan shook his head in amusement, but he blushed slightly. No doubt due to Echo’s comments on Cody marrying Obi-Wan.

“Echo wishing harm on Fives. I never thought I’d see the day,” commented Obi-Wan, his blue eyes sparkling with laughter. No doubt remembering the times Fox lost his patience with bullies and idiots they went to school with and just went for them. Their aunt had to give Fox the disapproving lecture, but she also slipped Fox money for standing up to bullies for other kids. So, Fox’s handling of bullies and idiots had never been stopped, only been encouraged.

“Oh, Echo can be pushed to it,” chuckled Cody, recalling the few times Fives had made Echo lose his temper. Echo was a nice and quiet person, which also made him one of those people you did not want to make angry, because when his patience snapped. It snapped. He could be worse than Fox, and that said something.

“By the way, your dad text me. He’s invited me to a family reunion dinner in a month’s time. So, is anyone coming over from New Zealand?” Obi-Wan asked as he started to tidy his books away and turn off his laptop.

Cody nodded. “My grandparents are coming over in three weeks and are staying until the summer as they want to be here for mine, Wolffe and Fox’s graduations. Then a few of the cousins are coming over in the summer.” He smiled to himself; it would be nice to see his family members again. They all saw each other every year, one year Cody and his family would fly out to New Zealand and the next year the family would fly over to Britain for a few weeks. With all of the cousins now at university, it made sorting out reunions easier due to the longer holidays they all had.

Obi-Wan’s eyes sparkled with amusement again, “anymore family arguments to look forward to?” he laughed.

“Probably,” Cody sighed as he rolled his eyes. Obi-Wan had come out to New Zealand with him last summer and witnessed some truly spectacular family arguments and rather silly ones as well. The most prominent being about Fox and Echo’s names.

When Fox had been a toddler, he and Wolffe had been put into animal onesies (Cody and his brothers also shared that misfortune with their cousins, but the less said about that the better), Wolffe into a wolf onesie and Fox into a fox onesie. Ever since Fox wanted to be called Fox, as he hated his proper name, the name being Frederick. If anyone ever called him Frederick when he was a small child he bit them, leading to his parents to tell their school when they started that it would be best if they didn’t call Fox Frederick for the safety of their own fingers.

Then when Echo had been four and in school, learning about words that began with the letter E, he heard the word Echo and wanted to call himself that, because he didn’t like being called Eli. Cody’s mum had tried to tell Echo his name was Eli, but Echo said Fox picked his name, so why couldn’t he? Cody’s mum tried her hardest to get Echo to forget about calling himself Echo, seeing as he was named after his mum’s father-in-law Elias and didn’t want to offend him. But Echo just started repeating everything everyone said, until the point their dad begged their mum to just let Echo call himself Echo. Fives didn’t want to be left out, and chose the nickname Fives, but he wasn’t involved in the arguments because he let their grandmother still call him Felix. Echo and Fox on the other hand, both refused to answer to their given names. And Obi-Wan had witnessed their grandmother once again getting annoyed when Echo and Fox didn’t answer her when she called them Eli and Frederick. That was also the visit where Obi-Wan learnt just who Echo and Fox inherited their stubbornness from. Grandpa Elias was not offended and found the whole thing hilarious and continued to congratulate Echo on his name every time he saw Echo. Cody was also convinced, his grandmother only continued the argument for the sake of it, he had seen her handwriting in birthday cards calling Echo and Fox by their chosen names. But she still wrote Eli and Frederick on family Christmas cards, again probably just for the drama.

But some uncles and aunts were not happy with Echo and Fox changing their names, albeit not legally, because other cousins began following their lead. Namely their four cousins who were all siblings (two sets of twins), Hunter, Crosshair, Wrecker and Tech. The four of them changing their names and even happily calling themselves the Bad Batch at family gatherings much to the ire of their mother. Fives was blamed for their collective nickname, as Obi-Wan found out and thought it was hilarious. The Bad Batch had invited Echo to play with them when they were small, and Fives who had not been invited to play had been jealous and called them the Bad Batch, the four of them had loved it and adopted it as their group name.

Obi-Wan started to laugh quietly to himself as he put his laptop away in his bag. At Cody’s questioning look he smiled and said. “I’m just wondering who will be the first to say something to disrupt family dinner. Either you, your brothers or your cousins will say something. You have done ever since the first family dinner I was invited to when I was five.”

Cody smirked to himself and nodded, “honestly I’m expecting it to be Fox again. You know he deals with stress in the weirdest ways.”

“You mean like putting everyone else off their food?” teased Obi-Wan, his eyes glinting at the memory of the last dinner everyone had together.

Over the four-week long Christmas holiday, Cody’s parents had hosted numerous family dinners, wanting to spend as much time together as possible. As it was understood with Cody, Obi-Wan, Wolffe and Fox graduating university later that year, they may not get to come home as often anymore. Also, as Cody’s uncle and aunt lived next door to them and Obi-Wan lived five houses further down the road, it was very easy for Cody’s uncle and aunt, Wolffe, Fox, Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon and Anakin to join their family for dinner. Which also meant, Cody and Obi-Wan had to suffer the embarrassment of watching Qui-Gon and Cody’s mum tearfully looking at photos of them growing up, mourning the loss of their ‘little ones’. While Cody’s aunt sipped on her glass of red wine and cackled at them, saying it was better to have both her kids leave the nest at once, as she didn’t have to go through kids moving out more than once.

Cody had also been horrified to learn there existed a photo of him in an animal onesie after all, and to make it worse, he was four in the photo. He was at school, but because his mum wanted a picture of all her boys in their animal onesies, he had been put into his old lion onesie (mane included on the hood) that was getting too small for him. But it had interested him to see it was a group photo of all of them sat on the living room floor. Obi-Wan was also in the photo, in a onesie that resembled the fictional varactyl creature he had been obsessed with when he was four. His unimpressed look matching Cody’s, in the photo both of them had their arms crossed as they glared at their parents off camera. Wolffe and Fox were also in the photo, but too busy pulling on each other’s hoods, Wolffe almost taking off one of Fox’s onesie’s ears. Rex, at three, was happily beaming at their mum in his elephant onesie that included a small trunk attached to the hood. Leaning against Rex on his left was Anakin, who at two, was too busy trying to eat his own foot as he sat in his dog onesie. On Rex’s right was the little twins, Echo beaming at the camera in his giraffe onesie as he lifted a hand up to squeeze the felt face of the giraffe attached to the hood and Fives, in a moose onesie (seriously where had his parents found these?), was busy trying to grab one of his felt antlers and eat it. Apparently, their parents had kept all of the onesies, what they planned to do with them Cody couldn’t guess.

But while the onesie group photo had been embarrassing, it hadn’t put anyone off their food. No, that came when Cody’s dad asked all of them how university was going. Everyone listened as one by one, all the boys explained what they had been doing. The adults patiently listened as Cody, Obi-Wan, Wolffe and Fox talked about their dissertations and skilfully manoeuvring the conversation so as to avoid third year meltdowns as the families had taken to calling their tearful, stressed rants. While Rex, Anakin, Fives and Echo stared at them in dawning horror as they realised what was in their immediate future. Fox had given Cody advice on where to find primary sources, as Fox was writing his ten-thousand-word dissertation on the Black Death and at this point, was basically an expert on where to find medical documents from varying time periods. Which was immensely helpful for Cody because his dissertation was on the treatment of shell shock in the First World War.

Dinner seemed to then settle, with all the boys commenting on funny or interesting things they had heard at university. When Fox piped up, “I was reading a chapter for my dissertation when the author commented that they buried people who had died of the Black Death by lying down a layer of bodies, then a layer of soil, another layer of bodies, more soil, more bodies and then the final layer of soil. It was interesting that the author used the analogy of the bodies been buried like how you make a lasagne.”

Everyone stopped, many of the people gathered around the table stared at Fox, with forks paused in the air. Fox, oblivious continued to eat his dinner with a smile on his face. Which was lasagne. Wolffe just shook his head and sighed in exasperation as he stopped eating his portion of lasagne and instead reached for a piece of garlic bread. Obi-Wan, taking interest in the analogy, was asking Fox if he had come across any other analogies like it. Rex, Echo and Fives dropped their forks and looked at their food in faint disgust. Qui-Gon and Anakin, who normally didn’t find anything disgusting, looked down at the lasagne on their plates in muted horror. Cody’s parents and uncle just sighed, with his uncle massaging his forehead in exasperation, while Cody’s aunt lifted her wine glass up and saluted Fox with it before taking a sip (Fox was a lot like his mother). Cody raised an eyebrow at his cousin, Fox smirked and then reached for the serving dish in the centre of the table. “Oh, no one else wants anymore? Guess I’ll finish the lasagne up then,” Fox stated with a mock innocent look on his face. Wolffe just sighed again and thumped his head down onto the table. Leaving Cody with the impression that Fox was hungry and saw how quickly the food was disappearing and decided to take matters into his own hands.

As Cody and Obi-Wan walked out of the library holding hands, Cody turned to Obi-Wan and smirked. “It is safe to say, lasagne will not be on the menu.”

Obi-Wan laughed loudly as they made their way into the cold air outside, wrapping his scarf tighter around his neck. Obi-Wan also admitted that neither his father nor Anakin, had been able to eat lasagne since that dinner. Anakin had seen lasagne being served for lunch at the university one day and had practically fled the cafeteria.

Together they walked to the bus stop that was less than a minute walk from the library and sat in contented silence as they travelled from campus on the short bus journey to their flat. Their shoulders knocked gently together as they swayed as the bus pulled in and out of bus stops. Their hands were still clasped together, and Obi-Wan was looking out of the window with a smile on his face as he watched people go about their day. Cody found himself unable to tear his gaze away from Obi-Wan’s face, watching as his eyes crinkled as he smiled at the sight of a giggling child play peekaboo with their younger sibling. The bright winter sun turned Obi-Wan’s copper hair into flames and it was a sight that always memorised Cody without fail. It was the sight that led to four-year-old him talking to Obi-Wan on their first day at school because he had never seen someone with the same-coloured hair as Obi-Wan before. Cody only realised they had reached the bus stop they needed when Obi-Wan pressed the button to alert the driver to stop. He reached down for his kit bag and swung it up onto his shoulder, they walked off the bus, thanked the driver and continued walking while holding hands. Obi-Wan began to talk about a book he had had to read for one of his modules and while Cody never heard of the book before, he enjoyed seeing how excited Obi-Wan was about it.

Once they got inside their flat, Obi-Wan put his bag, that contained his laptop and some books, on the floor by the door and went into the kitchen. Cody watched him for a moment, glad to see Obi-Wan was distracted making them both some lunch. Cody sat at their table and turned his laptop on and logged into the website where he was creating a photobook of photos of himself and Obi-Wan throughout their lives as a birthday present. There were hundreds of photos of them together over the years they had known each other, there were photos of primary, secondary and sixth form last days. Seeing how they had changed in those years was endearing and funny at the same time. Cody caught Obi-Wan looking over at him and Cody playfully tilted his laptop screen away from Obi-Wan’s view, not that his boyfriend could see it from where he was anyway. Obi-Wan smiled and then turned back to the sandwiches he was making. Obi-Wan knew he was getting his birthday present, just as Cody was aware Obi-Wan was also organising his birthday present, as Obi-Wan’s birthday was two days before Cody’s.

Cody checked through the photobook one last time and then seeing that everything was as he wanted it, he clicked order and waited for the confirmation email to arrive. Once it had, he closed his laptop down and smiled as Obi-Wan, at that moment, walked up to him and handed him a plate with his sandwich and an apple.

“I love you,” Cody said with a smile.

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes fondly, “ah yes. You only love me for my sandwich making skills.”

“You caught me!” chuckled Cody as he held his hands up in defence. They shared a smile and then both began eating their sandwiches in earnest. They chatted about friends from home who had gone to other universities or who went into work, the friends they had made in Manchester, the antics of crazy younger brothers and they also talked about if they wanted to do a Masters degree in their subject and if they did, where should they go? As it wasn’t a question about if they would go together, even if Obi-Wan decided to do a Masters and Cody didn’t, he was still going to move to whichever city Obi-Wan chose to go to for his Masters. But Cody was also liking the idea of doing a history Masters himself. “We could go to London. Wolffe and Fox are both going to do a Masters, we could go to uni with them.”

Obi-Wan frowned at him in amusement. “I thought you loved living in Manchester.”

“I do,” agreed Cody. “But I also want some peace from my brothers.” He added with a faked whining tone.

His boyfriend chuckled and then said. “You could apply to University of Manchester. So, you can stay in the city, but be in a different university to your brothers.”

Cody rolled his eyes. “As if that would stop them just turning up on Uni of’s campus,” he grumbled under his breath. He didn’t even think moving to the moon would stop his brothers from turning up to inconvenience him.

Obi-Wan just chuckled to himself as he shook his head, having to admit that going to Uni of would not stop Rex, Fives and Echo from turning up to see Cody. Within three weeks of starting the academic year, they had already worked out what rooms Cody had his seminars in and at what time they finished, so they could stand outside and wait for him. Despite Cody never once showing them his timetable.

After lunch, Cody began looking through some books for information he could add to his dissertation, while Obi-Wan turned his laptop on to work on one of his assignments. At the sound of an exasperated sigh, Cody looked up with one raised eyebrow to find Obi-Wan glaring at his laptop screen. “Problem?” he prompted lightly.

His boyfriend rolled his eyes and stated, “I hate this. We have a dissertation and other essays we need to complete that count towards our final degree. But then we are asked to write a two-thousand-word essay on the skills we have learnt doing our English degree and how those skills can help us in the workplace. While also having to give examples of jobs that use and need those skills.” Obi-Wan growled in frustration, “it is so pointless, but we have to do it otherwise we can be penalised if we don’t. But it’s wasting our time, we have other more important things to do.”

Cody grimaced and then reached out to squeezed Obi-Wan’s hand. “I totally get your frustration. We have been asked to do the exact same thing.”

Obi-Wan just groaned and thunked his head on the table, “I hate this. This is stress I do not need.” Cody smiled to himself and with his free hand, he ran his fingers through Obi-Wan’s hair, gently scratching at his scalp with his nails.

When Obi-Wan had relaxed, Cody recalled the lecture when he had been told about the assignment and how the career’s department guest lecturer and one of his usual history lecturers asked for people to give examples of skills, they had learnt doing their degree. He must have laughed to himself, because Obi-Wan was turning his head, leaving his face resting against the table top, and gave him an unimpressed glare. “Are you laughing at my pain?”

“No,” soothed Cody, brushing the hair out of Obi-Wan’s eyes. “Just remembering what Bly said in our lecture about the skills we have learnt doing a history degree.”

“Care to share? It might help me out,” asked Obi-Wan.

Cody smirked, “we have learnt to deal with emotionally crippling pain.”

There was a pause, and then Obi-Wan was laughing, his shoulders shaking as he lifted his head up from the table and instead rested it against Cody’s shoulder. “Oh, that’s a good one. I wonder if I could get away with using it?” he mused.

“I have no idea. But like you, I am tempted to use it,” stated Cody, happy to see a bit of life back in Obi-Wan’s eyes. There was nothing more depressing that having to complete a pointless assignment when you had a hundred other things to do that actually mattered for your degree.

They made the collective decision to stop working for the rest of the day, they were both mentally tired and decided they could do with a break. So, they found a film to watch, which led to another film, which led to another, until it was time for them to eat dinner. After they had shared the cooking, eaten and then shared the washing up, they decided to have an early night. Seeing as they both had nine am lectures on campus and arranged to meet in the library afterwards before Cody’s meeting with his dissertation supervisor.

As they stretched out on their bed, Cody pulling Obi-Wan to half lay on top of him, their legs tangled together. Despite the early time of the evening, the warmth and the presence of each other led them both to become drowsy and their eyes flickered heavily.

“Good night Cody,” yawned Obi-Wan, his jaw cracking at the force of the yawn.

“G’night Obi. Love you,” Cody breathed out on a sigh, his eyes closing as he felt himself begin to drift.

“Love you Code,” mumbled Obi-Wan as he pressed his face into the crook of Cody’s neck. With his nose pressed into Obi-Wan’s hair, Cody pressed a kiss against Obi-Wan’s forehead and felt a kiss pressed against his neck in return. With a smile on his face, Cody drifted off into sleep, where university stress faded away until it captured his attention tomorrow, but for now, he was able to sleep peacefully with his boyfriend in his arms.

End note:

I would draw the photo of all the boys in their onesies, but alas I cannot draw so let the image live on in our imaginations. 

Also I really enjoyed writing this AU, so if anyone wants to see more from it (including Rex, Fives, Echo, Wolffe, Fox and Anakin) let me know!

I went to Manchester Metropolitan University and as I loved it there so much, I chose to make it the setting for my AU for codywanweek. The road, buildings, halls and park are real places at the university and writing this fic has just made me want to go back there. I couldn’t come up with a degree for Cody so I just gave him my degree and dissertation focus (so yes there does exist a 10,000-word dissertation on the treatment of shell shock in WWI). At MMU we did call the University of Manchester Uni of, to differentiate between the two universities.

The Black Death lasagne analogy does actually exist in a historical book somewhere. I didn’t actually read it, but one of my flatmates in first year, who also did history, did. He was revising for one of our exams and he excitedly burst into the shared kitchen, saw me and geeked out over the funny analogy, we laughed about it, about how it was such a random analogy to use. (But after a few years I still remember it, so I guess it’s useful.) But then one of our other flatmates, who wasn’t studying history, turned around and complained at us, because she was in the process of making lasagne for her dinner. So, the reactions to Fox’s gleeful explanation of the analogy are based on truth. Our flatmate didn’t want to eat her dinner because of us. As I was writing this fic, the analogy popped back into my head and I felt it would be such a Fox thing to say.

Cody’s line of “we have learnt to deal with emotionally crippling pain” during a career’s lecture. Is something that I heard said in a career’s lecture I had to sit through in my second year. So again, something else in this fic that is based on truth.

[writer1]

Wolffe x reader: found through a scar

This was requested by @pentaghasm #3 from this prompt list, I loved this idea and I'm so glad you requested it.

You wonder who your soulmate is, and what happened to him to get the scar that he has. It happened about a week ago, you were going about your day at Dex's. You work as a waitress there, when you notice the people you're serving stare at you.

You asked them what's wrong and they tell you that your soulmate must have been hurt badly, they point at your eye and you run to the mirror in the refresher. There's a cut through your right eye, a fresh scar. It reaches from an inch and a half above your eye, and an inch below, going right through the middle.

You know that your soulmate must have lost his eye, while you still have yours. You feel so bad for them, whatever gave them this injury must have been very painful.

Now you're just hoping to see someone with the same scar as you, but you've had no luck. You don't think that your soulmate is even on this planet, it's very unlikely.

Today you're working your shift, people keep asking you about your scar. You always say it's your soulmates , and they always congratulate you on having an easy way to find them. Not a lot of people are so lucky, most of them have only tiny scars.

You don't think it's lucky, you feel so bad for your soulmate. You haven't even met them yet but you already feel love for them, you wish that they didn't have to lose their eye.

Today you see two clone troopers walk in, one has red hair shaved into two straight lines, while the other has grey hair cut closer to the scalp. You walk over to their table and wait for their questions about your scar, but none come.

You look up to both the clones staring at you in surprise, you don't understand why they're so surprised. You've never have anyone act like this before.

"May I take your order." The grey haired clone blinks in surprise and chuckles apologetically

"Yes, sorry. I'd like a caf, and what would you like boost." The red haired clone... Or boost as you now know him as, just keeps staring at you in surprise. The grey haired clone seems to do something and Boost yelps in pain as the table bumps.

"Ow, I mean, I'll also have a caf." He smiles then you go and tell Dex what they want, he prepares them and sends you back out. You set the caf on the table then walk back into the kitchen, grabbing some sugar packets and white milk for them. You set them on the table.

"You didn't specify how you wanted your caf so I brought some sugar and white milk for you." They both nod and the one with grey hair looks at your name tag.

"Thank you, Miss y/n." They end up sitting at the table for twenty minutes and head out, leaving their empty cups and a nice tip for you after paying. You're still wondering why they looked so surprised when you first walked up but you'll probably never know so you just forget about it.

×××

It's the next day and you're working in the back at the moment, taking out the trash and other small things. You were out at the cash a little while ago and people were asking about your scar once again.

"Uh, y/n. Someone's asking for you." You look up in confusion, who would be asking for you? You walk out and see a clone in grey armor like the other clones were wearing yesterday. He's still wearing his helmet, which is weird because Dex allows clones in here.

"Umm, may I talk to you miss y/n. In a Booth maybe." You and Dex eye him suspiciously, who knows what this clone wants.

"I'm sorry but I don't feel comfortable with that." You tell him straight out, and he sighs. He reaches his hands up and starts removing his helmet, you freeze when you see his face.

He has the same scar as you, in the exact same place. This is your soulmate, you can't believe that you've finally found him. He's looking at you shyly, almost afraid but you don't know why. He has a cybernetic eye where the scar is, you almost wince when you realize that your soulmate lost an eye.

"Can we talk in the Booth now." You look over to Dex, since he's your boss but he just nods his head.

"This is really important, y/n. You can have the rest of the day off." You look at him surprised, you know that finding your soulmate is a special occasion but you didn't think that he would give you the day off. You smile at him.

"Thank you so much Dex." He smiles at you and nods his head towards the clone trooper... Your soulmate. You walk around the counter and towards him.

"Why don't we talk at my place, more privacy." He nods and you grab his hand, pulling him out of the diner and towards your apartment. You thankfully live walking distance from the diner so it isn't far.

You arrive at your apartment and unlock the door, allowing the clone to walk in and you follow after.

"I just have to get changed, you can go ahead and sit on the couch." He does and you walk into your room and hurry to get changed, once you're in your regular clothes you walk out and sit beside him.

"So, you're my soulmate. How did you find me?" You ask him, you don't remember seeing a clone like him in the diner. At least not when he had the scar.

"My brothers came in the diner yesterday, you might remember them. They stared at you then ordered black caf." Your eyes widen in realisation, that's why those two clones were so surprised. They knew that you were their brothers soulmate as soon as they saw you.

"Oh, I remember them. The red haired one was Boost but I never got the grey haired ones name." Wolffe smiles a small smile at you.

"His name is Sinker, as soon as they finished their caf they ran to the base to tell me. But by the time they did it was too late to come find you." You nod, you're so happy that you just so happened to meet then. You probably would have found him yourself, but they made you find him all the more sooner. You lose your smile when you realize something.

"What is wrong with me, I never asked for your name. I'm sorry." Your soulmate just smiles at you.

"You don't have to be sorry, cyare. The names Wolffe." Wolffe... You smile, you love his name. Wolffe's smile slowly disappear's as he looks at you. He reaches his hand up to stroke your eye with the tip of his finger.

"I'm sorry, you shouldn't have to live with this scar because of me." You look at him, he just looks down at his feet sadly with a hint of guilt. That must be why he looked afraid at the diner, he was scared that you would hate him for giving you this scar. You grab his hand in your's, pulling it down away from the scar and softly kissing the palm.

"You know, when it first appeared. I didn't think about what I looked look like, the first thing I thought about was if my soulmate was okay." He stares at you, eyes wide in surprise. You reach your other hand up and softly stroke his scar, his eyes flutter closed and he leans into it.

"I love looking like my soulmate, the only thing I hate about the scar is that it caused you pain."he stares at you with love and admiration in his eyes, he loves you so much already. He's pretty sure that he would have fallen for you whether you were his soulmate or not.

He leans in and gives you a long sweet kiss on the lips, you know that everything is going to work out between the two of you.

[hrtiu]

My contribution to day one of Rexsoka week. It’s a little bit of a bummer given the prompt is ‘hope,’ but I like where it ends up!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26703133

Ahsoka had been in love with Rex for about a year when she told him to leave her on some desolate Outer-Rim skug hole of a planet. 

A year earlier the epiphany had been like punching a hole in a piece of flimsi—easy and weightless but completely irrevocable. He’d come back to Coruscant to speak at Dogma’s court-martial and to give his report on the Umbara debacle, and she’d been so relieved—so overjoyed—to finally see him healthy and sound that it just clicked.

She didn’t say anything, of course. Even if he reciprocated her feelings, there wasn’t really any way either of them could act on them, and she didn’t want to deal with the heartbreak. She also didn’t feel ready for those kinds of feelings, and doubted Rex was either. Rex was both a grown man and a being who had only experienced twelve years of life—all of them spent as a soldier preparing to sacrifice himself for the Republic. And as many adult situations in which she’d found herself and as much as she liked to think otherwise, curled up in the dark of her room at night Ahsoka was forced to admit to herself that she was still a child in many ways.

Thinking about it as little as possible was Ahsoka’s best defense, and she channeled all her affection for Rex into a fierce loyalty to him and all the clones of the 501st and an unshakable determination to win the war. Maybe after the war… she found herself thinking in her weaker moments. After the war what? She’d become a knight, and his legal status would be uncertain. There was no future.

Things didn’t change much after she left the Order. In theory she was no longer bound by the Code and could seek out personal relationships if she wanted to, but she couldn’t just switch off her entire way of being so easily. She also had no way of knowing if she’d ever see Rex again. She was unlikely to be allowed back into the GAR, and he wouldn’t be able to go looking for her even if he wanted to. She put her head down and tried to move forward with her life, but when her teenage mind decided to take off on flights of romantic fancy, her partner always had brown-golden eyes, stern posture, and light hair that contrasted against his dark skin.

When Ahsoka finally reunited with him for the Siege of Mandalore, she felt the stirrings of hope for the first time. Nothing about Rex was soft, but somehow the modest smile he gave her when introducing her to the 332nd was heart-breakingly tender. She’d worried somewhere in the back of her mind that Rex would have moved on, would not have carried their friendship with him like she had. But she’d returned to find the same disciplined, loyal, brave, true man she’d come to consider her dearest friend.

How quickly things change, Ahsoka thought as she watched the reddish sunlight of the dwarf sun filter through the tiny, rank room she and Rex had rented for the night. The Venator had crashed on some unnamed moon six months earlier, and they’d been on the run ever since. Ahsoka turned her head towards her fellow fugitive, asleep on his own narrow bed across the room from her, and she wondered how he always managed to coax his brain to unconsciousness no matter where he lay his head. Ahsoka hadn’t slept well in months.

In some ways she felt closer to Rex than ever. There was a heavy burden of sadness they shared between the two of them, dragging it from system to system as they tried to erase their tracks, and it tied them together like two prisoners on a chain gang. In other ways she’d never felt more distant from him, not even after she’d left the Order and didn’t know if he was dead or alive.

I did this, the familiar voice of guilt played in Ahsoka’s head. I took everything from him.

She’d replayed her escape from Order 66 over and over again in her mind, trying to understand where she’d gone wrong, what she could have done differently to save all those men. Try as she might, she didn’t see any way out without either giving herself up, which she could not accept, or letting Rex go, which she would not abide. But she must be wrong. There must have been some other way, there must have been something.

Rex stirred in his sleep, and Ahsoka watched the broad planes of his back expand and retract with each breath. It was exactly the same back as his brothers, the ones she’d let die. Did he wish that he’d died with them? Did he wish she’d left him in blissful, brainwashed ignorance? Did he… did he wish she’d just let herself go down?

The sunlight fully peaked through their window and Rex’s restless movements turned to a real awakening. He opened his eyes and greeted the day with a groan, then rolled out of bed and got dressed with typical clone efficiency. 

It was still strange to see Rex in civilian clothes—almost like that time she’d seen a holo of Obi-Wan in Mandalorian armor. The faded trousers and stained tunic never seemed to fit him quite right.

“Well, it’s a new day, Commander,” Rex said, and Ahsoka winced. He still always called her that, and she hated the title more with each passing day.

“Not much different from the last few,” Ahsoka said.

“We’ve been here too long. That patrol yesterday was too close a call—we need to move on.”

Ahsoka had to agree, though it pained her to admit it. She was getting so tired of running. She nodded her head wearily.

“So? Where to?” Rex said.

Ahsoka studied Rex for a long moment, then looked within herself and realized that today she finally had the strength to say what she’d been thinking had to be said for a long while.

“You need to check out the tip we got about Wolffe,” she said evenly.

Rex’s brow furrowed and he rubbed at his eyes, as if Ahsoka’s words could be chalked up to his drowsy state. “He’s supposed to be on Kamino. We can’t go to a planet full of chipped clones.”

“I can’t,” Ahsoka said pointedly.

Rex narrowed his eyes at Ahsoka. “What are you suggesting, Commander.”

Ahsoka sat up in bed and gathered her scratchy blankets around her. “He somehow managed to get a message to us that he wants out—you can’t ignore that.”

“We can’t ignore that, I agree.”

“He’s going to be on Kamino for the foreseeable future, and if I go there I’ll only hold you back.”

“Ahsoka-”

“I’m not going to take you away from your brothers again, Rex.”

Rex’s stern brow twitched and he pursed his lips. A long, weighty moment passed between them, then Rex spoke. “I won’t abandon you.”

“It’s not abandoning if I’m asking you to go,” Ahsoka said.

A look of deep hurt flitted past Rex’s face. “You’re ordering me away?”

“No!” Ahsoka said, getting to her feet. “That’s exactly the pro-” she cut herself off and sighed, taking a moment to collect herself. “Before, on the Venator. I made the decision for you.”

“No you didn’t. I all but asked you to take the chip out.”

“Maybe, but I put you in a position where you had to choose between me and your brothers and… it really wasn’t much of a choice.”

Rex huffed in frustration and threw his hands in the air. “Look, I don’t blame you-”

“Don’t you?”

The question lingered in the air between them, and Rex looked away. “No, I don’t,” he said. His voice was firm, but Ahsoka could see the doubt in his eyes.

And that was the crux of it. This awful tragedy hung between them, and would always be there unless they could find a way past it. If Rex was always stuck with her, always following her orders and watching her back, she knew their connection would remain poisoned by guilt and unbidden resentment. He needed to forge his own path, to find his independence. Then, maybe… Maybe many years in the future…

Ahsoka walked up to Rex and put a hand on his cheek, turning his head gently to face her. “I’m done issuing commands. Stay with me if you want. But I’m going to pay for a few more nights here, and I’m going to sleep here tonight, and I hope that when I wake tomorrow morning you’ll be gone.”

Rex met her eyes for a few seconds, then his gaze fell to the floor. Ahsoka held her breath as she waited for him to come to his conclusions. He swallowed a tense knot in his throat, then nodded, all uncertainty gradually draining away. 

Pain and relief flooded Ahsoka’s heart in equal measure, and she reached for Rex’s hand, daring more physical affection than she’d ever shown before. “Let’s go out to the market,” she said, giving his fingers a squeeze. “It’s a nice day.”

Rex squeezed her hand in return before letting go, and together they left the seedy hotel for the marketplace in the center of town. 

It truly was a nice day—the first pleasant, relaxed, uncomplicated day either of them had experienced in years. They ate a breakfast of hot caf and fried nuna eggs in a tiny cafe and watched the sun gradually bathe the dusty town in reddish light. They went to the open air plaza and dug through piles of the vendors’ wares until they found a newish, non-stained shirt for Rex. Rex picked out several blumfruits from the fruit stand, insisting that Bariss had once taught him a foolproof method for picking the ripest and sweetest, and as Ahsoka ate the red fruit she had to admit it was the tastiest she’d ever had. As night fell the daytime vendors closed up shop and other folks came out, some setting up games and other minor pieces of entertainment for the modest crowd. Ahsoka won Rex a small stuffed convor with a perfect game of ring toss, and though Rex complained that using the Force was cheating, he kept the plush. They ate dinner back at the hotel, whose food was actually somewhat passable despite the rundown building, then went to bed feeling restored.

Ahsoka pulled the covers up to her chin, her bones still steeped in the unfamiliar happiness of the day. She hadn’t felt this close to Rex since the crash, hadn’t enjoyed anything with Rex since then. She knew she’d made the right decision, as much as it would hurt to wake up alone the next day.

“‘Soka?” Rex’s voice carried through the darkness across the small room.

Ahsoka turned towards him, just barely making out the familiar angles of his face through the dim light. “Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

Ahsoka’s lips turned into a smile even as her eyes filled with tears she refused to shed. “You’d do the same for me, Rex. There’s no need for thanks.”

“All the same…”

“Yeah, I know.”

“May the Force be with you, little’un.”

“May the Force be with you, Rex.”

---

The next day Ahsoka woke and looked across the room from her to find an empty bed. The dingy bed had been made to military precision, and Rex had left no other evidence behind. The tears Ahsoka had held back the night before would no longer cooperate, and she buried her face in her hands and cried.

She gave herself permission to cry for a good long while, and after an hour her tears were spent and her heart worn thin. Her sorrow had run out of her along with her tears, and all that was left was a stubborn, insistent sort of hope. Ahsoka closed her eyes and imagined Rex going to Kamino, somehow sneaking into the base and finding Wolffe. She imagined the two of them figuring out how to remove Wolffe’s chip, then going on a crusade to free more of their brothers. She imagined Rex becoming more and more the person he was meant to be, the person his servitude to the Republic held back. And at the end of it all, that foolish, optimistic hope imagined him returning home to her.

[bi-naesala]

The one in which Anakin arrives early

It must be a miracle, but for once in his life, Anakin Skywalker isn't late to school, which grants him the occasion to go looking for a certain pair of people...

(Part of the SW Modern AU)

For once in his life, Anakin isn’t late.

It’s weird for him to arrive at the same time as Obi-Wan, since that asshole of his brother never waits for him because getting late would ruin his pristine record or some other bullshit he’d make up on the spot, but here they are now. He doesn’t even have the excuse that he’s going to meet with his upperclassmen friends, since they’ve all graduated now and are beginning college; Anakin supposes some habits die hard, even when there’s not a reason to keep them anymore.

 Wow, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen so many people at the entrance. It must be because, since he’s always late, everybody’s entered already, unlike this time, when all the students are still outside, waiting for the bell to ring and the doors to open, allowing them inside.

 “Ugh, how long are we gonna wait yet?”

Anakin turns his head to his left, and he notices the person who just talked: it’s Ahsoka, his little sister! Well, she’s not exactly his sister, but she might as well be since they practically grew up together in the neighbourhood, though Anakin supposes he’d have to fight Plo - his adoptive brother - if he ever tried to say it out loud, since Plo prides himself in being her brother a lot.

She’s talking to one of classmates, Barris Oifee. They’re actually girlfriends, having gotten together only recently, but very few people know, and Anakin of course is one of these people - he helped Ahsoka build enough confidence to ask her out after all!

Since they’re trying to keep this recent development under wraps, at least for this initial stage, they’re not acting on that sweet sweet pda they could get otherwise, so Anakin figures he can go interrupt them.

 It’s not hard to sneak up behind Ahsoka, and Barriss is too taken by what she’s saying to notice him, so he can freely poke her in the ribs, making her squeak - and Barriss chuckle.

“Who-- Skyguy! You ass!”

“Language, Snips.”

They still keep calling each other with those dumb nicknames they have given each other as kids, but what can they say? It’s their thing.

Ahsoka huffs, slapping his arm. Ouch, it hurts.

 At least after that outburst, she seems to calm down.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

“Uh… going to school?” Anakin replies, perplexed. What is he supposed to say?

She rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling.

“I meant at this hour, you dummy. Did Obi-Wan drag you out of the bed?”

“Ah. Ah. Very funny,” Anakin says, face completely void of any emotion, then he begins to look around, “I was actually looking for a certain pair of beauties…”

“Well, good luck then,” Ahsoka laughs, noticing that Anakin’s eager to leave, “See ya after school?”

“Of course. Bye Ahsoka! Bye Barriss!”

“Bye Skyguy!”

“Y-Yeah, bye…”

  The more Anakin looks around, the more people he knows he spots, especially Fetts.

They’re known as a huge family, and Anakin swear they make up at least one third of the school. They could take over it easily if they actually wanted to - that would be fun to watch, thinking about it.

 Here there are Hardcase, excitedly gesturing at their older brothers Dogma and Tup. Anakin remembers being excited as well when he was on his first year of school; it will die down, though considering how Hardcase is, maybe it won’t be the case; Anakin really hopes it isn’t.

Wow, it’s been a while since Anakin has seen Tup. Man, he’s gotten taller! Also hey, is he growing out his hair? Nice! He was thinking about doing the same, actually, but he’s still isn’t convinced entirely, even though he’s had many people say that it would certainly be better than the hairstyle he’s sporting now - that’s not true, there’s nothing wrong with how his hair is now they’re just jealous.

Dogma looks like he wants to die. He has on his face the same expression Anakin has seen Obi-Wan wear when he was up to his usual shenanigans. His little brother’s instincts can’t help but to act out at that, and Anakin silently cheers on Hardcase. Yes, keep annoying your brother.

 Here there are Fives and Echo, the twins - at this point Anakin has renounced trying to understand their names, or any Fett name by the way. They’re hanging on their own, but they’re clearly planning something, maybe a new prank against the hated math professor Pong Krell? Anakin hopes so; nobody likes that guy.

On the other hand, however, he hopes it isn’t, if anything because he has helped them on a few pranks already and he’s always had a blast; he doesn’t want to be excluded from what looks like is going to be a good time. At least he hopes they’ll eventually come to him if they’re actually planning something.

Usually it’s Fives the one who comes up with the ideas and logistics. No matter how crazy the plan may sound, they always manage to pull it off. Echo is more of a damage control kind of guy, misdirecting the attention from him and his sibling and making up alibis for them. He may seem like the less innocent of the two, but it’s all a façade.

Anakin would love to stop and chat with them, if anything to tell them to count him in if they need to wreck some shit, but he’s looking for other people already and he doesn’t want to waste too much time finding them.

 Here there are Waxer and Boil, classmates of Fives and Echo and another pair of twins - so many twins in this family - talking about something with Cody. Cody’s the one Anakin’s more familiar with, since he hangs out with the same group as he does.

He’s paying attention to his cousins, but it’s all gone when he notices Obi-Wan by the door, and all his attention turns towards him as he stares at him with such a pitiful stare that makes Anakin want to vomit.

He can’t believe he and his brother aren’t together anymore, they were such a cute couple!

Some things just don’t work out it seems, though Anakin would love it if they got their shit together - which they don’t, no matter how much it may look like it. How weird is it that he of all people thinks that about them?

At least they’ve remained friends, even though this makes things awkward sometimes but oh well, it’s not Anakin’s place to tell that story, not to say that he’s also quite tired of it if he has to be honest. One day he’s gonna butt their heads together and who knows, maybe things will change for the better.

 Anakin shakes his head. He should get a move on.

  As he walks to the back of the school, he begins to step in the “bad kids” territory, the one where you find those who always get in trouble.

 The first one he meets here is Asaj Ventress, chilling on her own listening to that goth music she likes so much; Anakin could never stomach it.

Her presence in Anakin’s group is weird; if she wasn’t an old friend of Obi-Wan - though she’ll get offended if you call them friends - she wouldn’t even bother with them, and sometimes Anakin can’t help but to wish that was the case.

The worrying thing is that Ahsoka has begun looking up to her - something about being an “experienced gay” and something else about “girl power” - and Anakin’s starting to get worried, not wanting Ahsoka to be ruined by her. Not that Anakin himself is such a better influence, but whatever.

Knowing that Ventress would hate him even more if he interrupts her alone time, he doesn’t bother greeting her.

 As he goes on, he’s surprised to find Jesse, of all people, there, though he looks like he’s walking away towards the main gate again. Jesse is another Fett, and Anakin’s classmate - along with Jesse’s twin Kix.

“Oh hey! Jesse!”

“Anakin!” Jesse greets him. They do a handshake and kiss each other on the cheeks. “Nice seeing you up and about already. Looking for Rex?” Rex being another Fett, Cody’s twin.

“Yup,” Anakin replies, popping up the p. “And what are you doing here?”

Jesse shrugs.

“Had to ask Wolffe a thing for Kix. He would’ve come himself, but you know how he hates the smell of smoke.”

“Yeah, I know,” Anakin replies. Yes, given how badly it smells in here, poor Kix wouldn’t have survived.

“Well, gotta report back now. See ya in class!”

“Later Jesse!”

 Of the cluster of people Anakin meets next, he recognizes Wolffe. He too is a Fett, and Cody and Rex’s twin. Yes, their mother had a triplet, poor woman.

He’s smoking a cigarette with the rest of his class, the 5C. See, that class is infamous because it’s full of heathens: if something bad happens, you can be assured that at least someone from 5C is involved.

He also sees Hondo Onaka, the resident weed dealer, Cad Bane, a guy that has been charged for felony a couple of times already and… Maul Oppress.

 Now, Anakin doesn’t know the whole story since he came into the neighbourhood late, when his mother and Obi-Wan’s father begun to see each other, but basically the Oppress family used to live in the same neighbourhood as theirs, and Maul and Obi-Wan were even best friends. Then… something happened and Maul lost their legs, having to replace them with prosthetics.

They blame Obi-Wan for it, or at least he used to: as of late his hatred for him seems to have died down a bit. Maybe it’s because he’s living with his mother and brothers again instead than with his father - yes, his parents divorced - but Anakin doesn’t know. Given that his father is professor Palpatine, it could be. Lord knows how messed up that dude is - and they still haven’t thrown him out. Anakin shivers as he remembers how much he tried to get closer to him during his second year. Gross.

Anakin hopes Maul will get his act together one day, because if they try shit with Obi-Wan he’ll punch his teeth, and he’ll do so with his prosthetic arm, so it’ll hurt more.

 He’d like to say hi, since Wolffe’s in there, but given the other people who are present, he passes them without a hint of acknowledgement.

  When he finally arrives to the spot under the fire escape stairs, he finally sees the people he’s been looking for.

Padmé, his girlfriend, and Rex, his boyfriend. Anakin still doesn’t know how he managed to score the prettiest people in the entire school - ok that Rex has twins, but he’s way prettier than them anyway.

Padmé’s the first one to notice him, and a big smile appears on her face as she waves at him.

“Ani!”

Anakin runs at her, picking her up in his arms and twirling her around, only to then give her a quick kiss on the lips.

He immediately hears a cough and he turns towards an amused Rex, who’s pointing at himself.

“What? Nothing for me?”

Anakin chuckles and drags him into a kiss by the scruff of his shirt.

“Hi Rex.”

“Hi Anakin.”

 “What are you doing so early here?” Padmé asks, making Anakin groan.

“Not you too!”

“I mean, can you blame me?” she points out. Well, she’s not wrong…

“Anyway,” he deflects, raising his eyebrow suggestively, “What were you two doing?”

“Little Missy over there was telling me that she won’t be available after school,” Rex provides.

Anakin’s face falls immediately. “What? Why?”

“Me and Satine have a meeting to figure out our course of action during our next school council,” she replies, “I’m sorry guys.”

“It’s chill,” Rex shrugs, understanding that as class president she has duties towards the school.

Anakin… understands a little less. He knows it’s not nice to think that way, but if he could he’d have Padmé and Rex all for himself, without sharing them.

Still, in the end he can only sigh in defeat, even though the frown he was sporting soon becomes a smile as he exposes a plan that is immediately approved by the others.

“Well, since it’s still too early for the bell to ring, might as well make up for lost time in advance.”

 Maybe he should put some effort and get to school early every day. If he gets to spend some good times with his partners, it’s definitely worth it.

[tinypnut]

Thoughts

Wolffe x Reader

@kriffingunlucky

~Prompt~

I need soft, a soft something. Something where the reader has anxiety and or depression, or even schizophrenia, and she gets proper comfort. I need this. Or she’s overwhelmed with life and doubting why she is even here, where she wonders why everyone leaves her. Why nobody actually likes her. Why nobody even cares enough to support her like she does them. Where she’s everybody’s shoulder to cry on but she goes into her room and cries at 3 am. When everybody is finally asleep. Where she zones out when people talk and her gut wrenches when she thinks about tomorrow. How she’s afraid to speak because she gets cut down. She stares at her body with disgust. She hates herself.

(I’m sorry in advance if its a little slow in the beginning and then rushed at the end, it’s been a while since I’ve written so I’m a little rusty. I also apologize if Wolffe is OOC)

Words: 2,175

TW: Mentions of suicide and depression

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You were on break when it happened, you were having a simple conversation about the war and the effort towards it. The conversation itself was like any other that you’d taken part in. ‘How’ve you been doing since you were last deployed? What’s it like on the front lines? Have we gained any ground? Is this war really worth all of the pain, bloodshed, and death?’ but for some reason, something struck you, deep searing pain in your chest, a fog flowing over your mind and it just kept getting darker and thicker. It begins to feel suffocating as the days continued. This was a feeling you hadn’t felt in years, the pain, the darkness the fear, everything. Yes there was the pain and fear on the battlefield, but this was a different one. Daily conversations became harder to keep up with, getting out of bed was difficult. It was like a weight has placed itself upon you and can’t be lifted. Memories flooded your thoughts constantly, haunted your dream and it just wouldn't stop. All the men lost, your family, everyone, it just wasn't right, it wasn't fair. This war had been raging on for so long and for what? You weren't making a difference, every battle more men were lost, body counts rising each time, the kaminoans treating the clones as if they were a product on an assembly line like droids and not real people. But what could you do? You felt worthless, meaningless, nothing mattered. You joined the GAR to make a difference, to help those in need because you didn't have a family, no one back home to worry if you'd come home or not. It was just that and nothing else, or at least it was that at first. As time went on the Troopers in the GAR, specifically the 104th, became your family, they gave you a reason to continue he gave you a reason. But right now, nothing mattered, all you felt was a growing numbness, an emptiness that just kept growing. A smile felt forced, nothing was genuine anymore and it hurt but you had no one.

Why bother Wolffe? He shouldn't have to deal with this from me, he’s probably busy anyway he has to get ready...

You sat in your quarters not caring that you were shipping out the next day again, in fact you hadn't left your quarters all day, to be honest. Currently you sat at the edge of your bed your head in your hands. Your eyes were wide and you hadn't even registered the tears falling to the floor.

Wolffe hid his concern well as he strode through the halls of the barracks looking for you, he hadn’t seen you much during leave which was odd, very odd in fact. Whenever you and his battalion were on leave you would never hesitate to spend time with him. You would normally get cleaned up and then wait for him to finish his debrief. Afterward, you would pester him to leave his work be and take a break from it all. He found it refreshing even if he never actually admitted it. This time however it seemed as if you had avoided him the entire time and today he didn’t see you in the halls at all. Wolffe was worried, did he say something to offend you. Though that was unlikely due to his lack of word use most of the time. Were you tired of him? His chest tightened at the thought. He may not always say how much he loves you but he definitely shows it through his actions. Was that not enough? He gripped his helmet as he walked checking all of your favorite places to go while on leave, which also included checking up on the 501st.

You let out a shaky breath but soon unraveled, you let out a broken choked sob as you cried. You covered your face trying to hide away from eyes that weren’t even there.

I cant...I just...its my fault they’re dead, it’s all my fault! I can’t do anything right I’m worthless. I’m worthless. I can’t do anything right. Nobody cares, nobody cares about me, it all an act. They pity me, its a joke, they are all gonna leave me, everyone does eventually. They all hate me, I’m a burden! Why the hell am I here anyway? What does it matter? Wolffe doesn’t care about me does he? I’m just there to distract him, a doll, that’s what I am…. But I love him...and he, he means so much to me I love him. Wolffe... I can’t tell him, he’ll think I’m weak…

These thoughts just kept repeating themselves over and over and over again and they wouldn’t stop. It was a pounding against your head, you gripped your hair and began to pull, sobs were heard in your quite quarters. You bit your lip as more than rust repetitive thoughts fill your head. You began to see the dead, your family, your friends, everyone. Their lifeless eyes boring into your furthering you to convince yourself that it was your fault that they died, that if you tried harder they wouldn’t have died. You let out a whimper as you curled up on your bed.

It’s all my fault, I can’t do this anymore...all the pain, the suffering, no one would care that I’m gone….I’ve tried, I’ve tried for so long but I’ll never be good enough...I-

Your thoughts were cut off by a knock on your door. 

“(Y/N)...” The gruffness of the voice was unmistakable, it was Wolffe. “(Y/N I know you’re in there, open up.” he continued but you didn’t budge. You may have been craving comfort and contact with others, you were desperate for it but your pride was currently pushing your mental stability out the window. He couldn’t see you now, what would he think of you?

Maybe if I wait long enough he’ll leave…

That, however, was not the case. There was a somewhat aggravated grumble from the other side of the door. Wolffe was well known for lacking patience and even though he loves you he is getting slightly fed up with you avoiding him all of leave. He shifted his helmet to under his other arm and punched in the code to the door to your room. When you heard the door open your froze now mentally cursing yourself for giving him your passcode.

“Cyar’ika, what the hell is going o-” When his gaze finally made out your form curled up in your bed he quieted and took a step closer. “(Y/N)?” he questioned softly hesitantly almost. Your form curled up more as you tried to hide from him and sniffled slightly.

“I-I’m fine Wolffe…” Though your voice drastically betrayed you.

He narrowed his gaze and moved further into your room and set his helmet on the desk beside your bed. Wolffe then sat down on the edge of the bed and gazed down at you. He remained quiet, unsure of what to say. He placed his hand gently down on your side and rubbed with his thumb.

“Cyar’ika...what’s wrong?” He questioned. Then gentleness of his voice sent you over the edge again and your let out another sob. He shifted and carefully took your hands away from your face. His eyes pierced yours and they seemed to cause you to melt. You sat up and hugged him tightly not caring about his uncomfortable plastoid armor. Tears streamed down your face and Wolffe was somewhat confused but held you close regardless. He rested his head atop yours and rubbed circles on your back in a means to comfort you. “(Y/N)...I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s bothering you…” He said softly. You bit your lip debating if you should really tell him what’s going on or not.

“I….Wolffe I” You bit your lip trying to compose yourself. “D-Do….Do you love me?” she questioned hesitantly. Wolffe pulled away slightly and fear filled you. He gazed down at you and placed his hand on your cheek.

“Of course I do (Y/N)....what makes you think that I don’t?” his brows knitted together and you look away.

“I can’t I don’t….” Tears streamed down your face again and your clenched your fists “These thoughts they won’t leave me! I’m not good enough! I’ll never be good enough! It’s my fault your brothers keep dying! It’s my fault my family is dead! I can still see them….their lifeless eyes starring back at me, the fire, the blood, everything! I can’t save anyone! I’m utterly worthless Wolffe! People don’t care, do you know how many times I’ve tried talking to people and I get interrupted by another and my original conversation was forgotten? Being overlooked all the time? Not being good enough, to begin with? Having so many expectations and being an utter disappointment regardless?! I’ve tried so hard for so long Wolffe, the smiles, ignoring all the abuse from others, the nightmares, the fakeness of it all? I’ve tried so long to be strong but I can’t...I-I can’t keep doing this...Wolffe…I...I joined the GAR to help others...but ultimately it was just to die….but then I met you...Master Plo, the whole pack...You became my family but I just….I….a...a part of me is waiting for you all to leave me...like everyone else has…” at first you were crying as you spoke but as you continued your voice became meek and your tears had stopped flowing. Your gaze remained down at the bed.

Now he understood, his heart sunk as you spoke, he knew of the pain you spoke of. Weight on your chest and fog in your mind. He and his brothers may have been bred for war but he knew. He knew of all of it, you’ve had enough of the war and you snapped. He would be lying if he said he was expecting this but he really wasn’t, you had a wall that was almost as strong as his, a part of him was proud for staying stong but ultimately he was worried for you, he hated seeing you in pain and cursed himself for not noticing this sooner.

“Wolffe?” You questioned hesitantly as you looked up at him. He seemed to be in a relative daze as he gazed at you. When he heard you call his name he blinked. He ran his fingers through your hair with his other hand keeping one on your cheek.

“Cyar’ika, You are the strongest, talented, and greatest person I have ever met. These thoughts, I can’t promise that they will leave you but that’s all they are. Thoughts. No one will leave you, I most certainly won’t. I understand what you feel, the fear, the pain, everything. You are allowed to feel these things but don’t ever give up. Keep fighting because you are my world, I don’t know what I would do if you left. Nothing can erase what happened, no one can change the past and no one knows what the future will hold. You can always come to me (Y/N), you have my support Cyar’ika. I can only comfort you when you come to me though. I hate seeing you in such pain, this war. I don’t know when it will end and I can’t promise that we won’t lose anyone else but we have to keep fighting, and I can assure you that no one hates you. But I can’t speak for the seps” He smiled slightly towards the end. You cracked a subtle smile and rested your head against his plastoid armor. 

“Thank you Wolffe...for being here…” You said softly, you were definitely not 100% back to normal but you did feel like the weight on your chest had been lifted, even if it was just a little bit.

“Anytime (Y/N)” Wolffe held you close sighing softly “(Y/N)?” Your eyes were shut and you hummed “I Love you Cyar’ika, and I always will” He pressed a gentle kiss atop your head and your smile grew. Wolffe didn’t say he loved you out loud that often but when he did you could practically feel the love that flowed from it and enveloped you. A warmth filled your chest and you let out a content sigh.

“I love you too Wolffe” 

He shifted and stripped himself of his armor leaving him in only his blacks. He laid down pulling you with him. He held you close against his chest, arms around you in a protective manner. 

“I will protect you (Y/N), now and forever. No one will hurt you while I’m here” He said as drowsiness crept upon him. You shifted your hand to intertwine your fingers together and gave his hand a gentle squeeze. You closed your eyes falling asleep in your lover’s arms, that squeeze speaking volumes to Wolffe.

[sammysreelreviews]

How Dead Hannah Baker keeps the Manic Pixie Dream Girl Trope Alive

*pictured above: Hannah Baker (Katherine Langford) from 13 Reasons Why

***SPOILERS AHEAD FOR 13 REASONS WHY, PAPER TOWNS, 500 DAYS OF SUMMER. AND ETERNAL SUNSHINE OF THE SPOTLESS MIND!***

I know that some of you may be wondering what exactly is a Manic Pixie Dream Girl. Well there’s no text book definition but here’s one I found online from urbandictionary.com:

“A Manic Pixie Dream Girl or MPDG, is a term coined by film critic Nathan Rabin after seeing Elizabethtown. It refers to "that bubbly, shallow cinematic creature that exists solely in the fevered imaginations of sensitive writer-directors to teach broodingly soulful young men to embrace life and its infinite mysteries and adventures." A pretty, outgoing, whacky female romantic lead whose sole purpose is to help broody male characters lighten up and enjoy their lives.”

Now that you have an idea of what this is I’ll start by giving you examples. Usually the Manic Pixie Dream Girl, MPDG for short, is only there so the nerdy usually white male that is obsessed with them can grow from the experience with them. Now I know you’re thinking “how exactly do I spot one of these creatures?” Well guys it’s very easy and I’ll give you some tips. Most MPDG’s are white, have a wild outlook on the world, and are deemed gorgeous by the general public. 

*pictured above: Clementine Kruczynski (Kate Winslet) and Joel Barish (Jim Carrey) in the film Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

The first MPDG I can think of is Clementine from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless mind. She is a wild says whatever is on her mind kind of girl and meets poor Joel on the train. This film happens through flashbacks and dreams showing how happy she made him. The relationship went sour which it usually does with a MPDG and they both have each other erased from their memories. Dramatic, I know, but losing her and getting her back helps Joel in some crazy way. It’s like without her he can’t fully live his life and that’s just sad.

*pictured above: Tom (Joseph Gordon Levitt) and Summer (Zooey Deschanel) in 500 Days of Summer

People love this movie and don’t even realize that Summer is problematic as fuck. Summer is this cool girl who doesn’t believe in love and basically drags poor Tom around for you fucking guessed it, 500 days. Tom thinks that Summer is the one for him and tries to date her and show her love exists. Even though they do end up dating things fall apart because cool, secure, witty as all hell Summer is still scared of love. I mean I thought that was a LA thing. It doesn’t take Tom to realize how pathetic he is until he sees Summer at a park AND REALIZES SHE FUCKING GOT MARRIED. Summer’s excuse is that she wasn’t sure about Tom but she was sure about her husband now.... LOL need I say more? 

*pictured above: Margo (Cara Delevigne) and Quentin (Nat Wolff) in Paper Towns.

Last example is John Green’s book turned film Paper Towns. Quentin has been in love with the popular girl next door Margo. One random night Margo climbs into Quentin’s window and asks him to get revenge on her now ex boyfriend. They spend the whole night at the store getting supplies, ruining the boy’s car, and looking over the city they live in. Margo feels stuck where she is and unlike feels different tan her friends. Spoiler alert: she’s not. At the end of the night they both go home and of course nerdy Quentin is blissed the fuck out. Before I go in on this, we have to acknowledge that all of John Green‘s main characters are MPDG’s. It’s basically his forte. But I digress. Quentin wakes up and, surprise, Margo has gone missing. Quentin is determined to find her and believes that she left clues for him. Quentin his two friends and Margo’s bestie go on a roadtrip from florida to upstate New York and find themselves while trying to find Margo. His friends eventually leave him because no way in teen rom com hell are they going to miss the prom. Quentin stays and eventually finds the girl of his dreams. Turns out Margo didn’t want to be found at all and just like Tom in 500 days of Summer Quentin looks like a fucking dumb ass. Quentin makes it home in time for prom and enjoys it with his friends cause in the end that’s all he really needed... but it took a cross country road trip trying to find a selfish teen girl who doesn’t care about you to figure that out. Nice!

*pictured above: Clay Jensen (Dylan Minnette) and Hannah Baker (Katherine Langford) in 13 Reasons Why

As we all know Jay Asher’s book 13 Reasons why has been turned into a tv show on Netflix. The premise is that high schooler Hannah Baker has killed herself and left 13 tapes for certain people to listen to. If you’re on this tape, you’re one of the reasons why she’s gone. Creepy right? Well in the book, which is only 288 pages, Hannah is a sweet girl who seemed to have the worst time of her damn life. The book is short so it seems like every event that happened to Hannah happens like one day after the other. Clay listens to his friend’s tapes in one night and it really hits you in the gut. Personally I like the book better but I am here to address the show. If you want to read my full opinion on the entire show you can do so by clicking here. 

The problem with the Tv series is that by stretching the fuck out of this book they have to add on to the characters. Unfortunately Hannah is made into a MPDG from beyond the grave. In the show Hannah is deemed pretty by everyone around her. If the high school jocks think you’re hot, you’re golden am I right? What makes Hannah a MPDG is the way she treats poor Clay Jensen. Clay is the main character in the show and you find out what happens to Hannah by watching him listen to the tapes. SInce it takes Clay fucking weeks to listen to 13 DAMN TAPES only through flashbacks do you get to see what Hannah is truly like. Hannah on the show confused me after I watched it. I was like “Why don’t I like her?” Don’t get me wrong I felt for the girl and everything that happened was horrible but something was just off. She talked to Clay all the time in witty banter and even gave him a nickname. There were so many chances where she could have just kissed him or got alone time but she didn’t. The other problem with Hannah Is that she was so confident and cool, and filled with teen angst, it didn’t make sense for her to care about what people thought. It’s like she had two personalities. When we see her with Clay she’s this smart funny girl who seemed unattainable but when we see her with virtually anyone else she’s insecure and dying for attention from any popular boy in school. Hannah makes it seem as if Clay isn’t good enough for her when in reality he’s the only person she has. In the 12th episode while Hannah is taking a walk she ends up at a house party where all the popular kids are. Even though she thinks Clay hates her at this point she could’ve tried to talk things out with him. It just frustrates me that she would go to a rapist’s house cause she’s that desperate for attention. Why fight for these douche bags that have done nothing but hurt you instead of fighting for Clay? 

Clay shows character progression only when he’s listening to the tapes. Hearing his dream girl tell the stories before her untimely death makes Clay a better person to people around him. I mean that is the point of all this but at the same time, it shouldn’t take tapes from a girl who has committed suicide to realize that hey, high school is hard don’t be a fucking asshole to people. Clay also grows some balls while listening to the tapes. He basically yells in the middle of the school hall and even lowkey bullies this kid Tyler. I mean Tyler was a creep but bullying someone would be the last thing on my agenda while listening to a dead girl’s tapes. I wrote this for me to get my thoughts out cause everyone keeps asking me about this show. Every conversation I have I always say that I didn’t really like Hannah so if you think Hannah kind of sucks I’m here with you. Hannah is the most twisted MPDG ever and yes it’s because she’s dead. Clay only grows while listening to these tapes which is kind of in a way fucked up. Even though Clay, unlike the book, gets justice for two sexually assaulted girls and Hannah’s life it shouldn’t take Hannah’s 13 tapes to grow. Hannah killing herself should’ve made everyone change and grow on their own.

I know at this point you’re probably saying “ I read this long ass article what is the point?!” The point is that women are not objects. Being a woman is hard and having to grow up is truly a journey. You have media constantly showing you how the perfect woman acts or talks or dresses. Going through high school you have to deal with the pressure of society and unfortunately care about what your peers think. I grew up from my own damn experiences. I didn’t just find myself cause I left a boyfriend or cause I cut my hair I learned that I am what I am and I can’t change that and I’m very happy with who I turned out to be. This is especially hard to do when you’re a black girl like me raised in an all white community. Why must men in these movies need a girl for them to realize who they are? I’m not saying it’s easy to be a boy but come on dude the girl of your dreams isn’t gonna finally give you this sense of Omg I know what my purpose in life is. Your dream girl is not your mom teaching you about life. You know what’s right and what’s wrong without a girl whispering you to the right direction in your ear. You can only figure out who you are by being you and it is completely possible for films and TV shows to show this without a MPDG. I know the show 13 Reasons Why is supposed to show how small things matter and can snowball into this big thing. I get it I really do. The problem is that they could’ve shown that making Hannah solely the victim and not a jaded Manic Pixie Dream Girl. 

[chocolate-brownies]

“Tune in to yourself,” says Taryn Toomey, the latest étoile du jour to light up the fitness world, addressing a women’s retreat in upstate New York last summer. “Know there’s a part of you that really wants the suffering and part of you that really wants the awakening.

“Know who’s running the show.”

Therein lies the essence of the Taryn Toomey phenomenon—suffering and awakening, hurting and healing. Toomey is the birthmother of The Class, a body-depleting, mind-bending workout that defies both definition and category. Physically demanding and emotionally exhausting, it is, to its throngs of acolytes who sweat regularly in her signature TriBeCa gym, spiritually and psychically cathartic. 

The hallmark of The Class is a series of repetitive motions devoid of rep count; there is no telling when the torture will end, an approach that plunges you entirely into the moment.

The hallmark of The Class is a series of repetitive motions devoid of rep count; there is no telling when the torture will end, an approach that plunges you entirely into the moment. Meshing high-intensity calisthenics with impassioned, confessional, almost feral exhortations, Toomey doesn’t simply want you to feel the burn—she wants you to experience it as an existential crisis.

“There’s a very specific way we train our teachers, of how we open the room,” says Toomey. “There’s an arc of the class, it’s how we build trust. There’s the physical, the emotional, the energetic. Then there is the spiritual. And we let you into that door through the body.” 

The Class didn’t so much start one day as it evolved. From doing sports as a teenager, to practicing yoga, to running, Toomey says it was marinating within her for a long time. “Things were getting activated in me,” she says. She started doing her impassioned, improvisational workouts with a friend in the gym in the basement of the building where she used to live. Other friends joined, and then this one told that one, and eventually Toomey took her show to the Dance Factory. Then came men and women from around Manhattan who had heard about this thing, this fitness class that wasn’t just about strength or cardio, but also about spirit and soul—not in that bullshit way that some classes try to invoke your animal spirit, but in a very real way that holds your hand as you step into your own darkness, and guides you toward the light, also your own. It’s a thing, a class, a workout, a mindfuck so powerful and popular, that Taryn Toomey has opened three outposts, in LA, Vancouver, and the Hamptons; hosts a monthly  “spiritual residency” in Miami; and offers multi-day “Retreatments” to places like Martha’s Vineyard and the Dominican Republic. →

Toomey has also collaborated with Lululemon on a clothing line, has recently started offering specialized classes at Equinox and Pure Yoga, and has put her name on a palette of muted pastel nail polish and bath salts. She designs her own high-end line of crystal gemstone jewelry, and even sells hats and capes that mimic her signature look. Indeed, what ignited as her own drive to exercise more mindfully—that is, to move her body in a way that freed her mind so as to open her heart—is erupting into a kind of empire of Toomey-inspired everything. 

Following Toomey on social media is so profound it could turn your day around, maybe your life. “To those who inspired it but will never read it,” she posts as encouragement to journal. In another she writes, “One of the most expensive things you could ever do is pay attention to the wrong people.” 

And yet. There she is, on a motor boat on Lake Como. At the Savoy Hotel in London. Lounging in Marrakesh. She’s even getting a bikini wax! Clearly the Ralph Lauren account exec turned spiritual crusader likes nice stuff, and who doesn’t? But as she crosses that border from creator into celebrity, is her ever-increasing price tag ($5,000-a-week “Retreatments,” travel not included) putting this work out of reach?  

Jennifer Wolff: In my first class you chanted about the birth experience, among other things. In fact, you didn’t seem to be teaching or leading a class as much as acting out the kind of cataclysmic epiphany many students come to The Class to experience. By the end you were on your knees pounding your fists into the floor, your hair stuck to your cheeks, your eyes somewhat crazed, and saying “Fuck this” and “Fuck that.” What was that? 

Taryn Toomey: Sometimes I feel like I’m on the battlefield out there. I’m not just teaching. I say what comes through me. I’ve given birth twice, and I remember feeling, “I can’t do this anymore. This is so intense. When is this going to end?” And then boom, you start pushing and a baby comes out and you have a love that you never knew possible. I don’t often talk about the birth experience, but that’s where I was that day. So for me, the reason I can teach and do what I do is because I’ve had a lot of shit go down and been in a lot of pain for a long time, and I’m teaching from the depths of a lot of things. People look at me and are like, “What is this girl doing?” I still do this with a very soft, humble, scared heart. I’m still trying to heal myself. 

What do you think it is about The Class that is such a revelation for people? 

I have a true belief that there is not one human better than another and I am there with everyone. The thing I always do first is gain the trust of the room. And I do that by letting people know that they don’t have to do any of it. I’ll say, “You can just stand and place your hands over your heart and breathe.” I give people permission not to do it, and then usually they are able to do it a bit more. It’s gaining trust of the psyche from one’s own self. If you tell someone they have to do something, usually they will resist. That’s what I find in my own self. So there’s a buildup of movements slowly that’s attached to breath awareness. We don’t go in there and be like, “Everybody lose your shit!” There’s sound involved [the music volume gets higher as movement intensifies, then lower during breaks of stillness] so people can express themselves without feeling like they’re having some sort of panic attack. It’s one of the built-in safety nets, so at the end of a big exercise, like the burpees, you can express yourself and then land in stillness. The hands are on the body. You recover the heart. You feel the soles of your feet on the floor.

Your exercises are simple. No weights. No bands. Very old school, not unlike Jack LaLanne: jumping jacks, flapping arms, leg lifts. And those damned burpees. But you don’t count. We never know when it’s going to end. 

The intention is that it’s basic. There is no choreography. You close your eyes and go. You watch your mind as opposed to your mind having to do something. It’s actually a form of self-study. And when stuff comes up, it’s probably a pretty good sign that you’re on the edge of something that is really transformative. So what do you do? You breathe. You notice that you’re in the throes of something. Instead of knowing when it’s over, you practice your ability to tolerate feeling, to tolerate intensity, and you stay right there with yourself.

Most articles about The Class describe screaming and crying. After three classes I heard some screaming and witnessed some tears, but it was nothing like what people are saying. 

I know. One person cries and the media makes it like everyone is sobbing. Sure, sometimes people cry a bit. Sometimes it hits you. There are times when I’ve gone to my other teachers’ classes and they have broken me. It happens. But it can’t be like, “Cry!” If people come expecting to cry, they’re not going to cry.

Have you seen any transformation in your regular students?

This question makes me very uncomfortable. It’s like every single thing in my body starts to flare up and I don’t want to share any of it. But, yeah, people have told me that it’s changed their whole life. Students have been able to create completely new career paths for themselves, or leave painful or toxic relationships, or grieve the loss of things from years ago. They’ve broken patterns within themselves. They’ve completely changed their physical body. But I don’t take ownership for any of it because they’re the ones that are doing it. I’m just kind of channeling their experience based on the energy they bring to the room. It’s like I’m here to be of service. 

Do you ever discuss your own trauma? The trauma that led you to this place? To The Class?

With people in my inner circle, behind the scenes. If you pull the hood back, it’s intense. But I’ve never fallen victim to it. And I say  to the people who have hurt me, “Thank you.” Because they have required me to heal. I have a lot of stuff to process from the past. I think I’m clearing a lot of it, and I feel grateful that I am able to do what I am doing.

People refer to you as the new fitness guru, sometimes even a celebrity fitness guru. Is that what you are?

That makes me laugh, too. I have friends who call themselves gurus. With all due respect, I don’t consider myself one. And to call me a celebrity fitness guru, that just makes me want to roll over. It makes me crazy because those celebrities who work out, they’re that way because they work their faces off for their own bodies. Nobody is putting them on a machine and doing the work for them.

You now have four studios. How do you keep the intention of this work from becoming diluted?

It’s a fine balance. I’ve really had to have some hard conversations with myself, especially lately. One of the hard things would be if I lost my ability to teach and my community for some big dollar sign. That would be my worst nightmare.

Do you consider yourself a luxury brand?  

I’d say yes. I love beautiful things. I’m also thrifty. I’ve done everything on a budget. And we’ve said no to a lot of pretty big deals because they didn’t feel right. We actually could have been a lot further in terms of opening studios and putting a lot more gas in the tank. We’re trying to be mindful as we move forward. So it’s like a double-edged sword: I like luxury, but I want this work to be accessible to all. 

Even your Retreatments? Those are pretty expensive.

The retreats evolved in the same way The Class happened, which was a mash-up of all the things that I loved and needed. 

I had not traveled much, but I wanted to. I wanted to be able to bring my kids. I like really good food. I like really good music. I like friends coming together. I like to move my body. I like to meditate. I like yoga in the afternoon. Why don’t I get a whole bunch of people together and do it? So it’s great because all of these things are now enmeshed. I have basically designed my life around the way I want to live. It wasn’t this big idea of “Let’s make it really luxury.” It was “I want to get out of the city in the summer and out of the cold in the winter.” 

That said, behind the scenes, we’re working to layer in some additional retreats with other teachers that are more accessible, and price points that are lower. So we are going to, as we move forward, make sure that there are ways for this work to be accessible to all, because that’s the end goal.

Will we see Taryn Toomey for Target?

No, not necessarily. I’m not saying ‘pooh-pooh’ on Target, nor am I going to say no. But we’re moving slowly because of the questions of teachers and how to rescale it. We’ll do a few more studios in the right markets. We’re considering some digital platforms.

Right when I’m like, “Am I going crazy?” That’s when…it’s a little bit of, that’s where the “magic” lives.

Your class is so out there it’s hard to know if it’s complete magic or complete BS. 

Yeah, I said something like that to someone recently. I said, “Sometimes I feel completely insane. I feel like I’m bodying right up against the edge of madness, and that’s where all of the genius lives.” She was like, “Yeah, you’re right.” It’s like what you just said. I was kind of laughing about it because that’s what I feel like sometimes. I feel like right when I’m like, “Am I going crazy?” That’s when…it’s a little bit of, that’s where the “magic” lives.

Inside the Class

Our writer throws herself into Taryn Toomey’s “The Class” and comes out the other side—intact.

Taryn Toomey steps in so close to my face I think she’s going to kiss me. And though generally not into women, I am fairly certain in that instant that I will kiss her back, until I realize that this is how she greets people, up in their grill, under their skin. 

“Does anything hurt?” she asks after not kissing me.  

“Yes,” I tell her. “Everything.”

“Perfect,” she replies. “We’ll take care of that.” 

I don’t know what she means, or what she is—sort of beautiful, sort of plain, absolutely radiant, her blonde streaked hair tumbled just so atop her head, her skin aglow with the slightest brush of the expensive highlighter she sells in the gift shop outside of her Bridgehampton pop-up. To get to her, to The Class, I had to maneuver between fancy women in big sunglasses and expensive workout gear driving Mercedes and Range Rovers, fighting for a space in the crowded dirt lot. But once inside, lifted by the sweet smell of palo santo—and by the Chanel products in the bathroom—I find peace on the Toomey-insignia’d yoga mat that will define my space among some 40 others during the next hour of sweat and, so I am told, tears. 

Toomey starts us off with Mumford & Sons’ “Si Tu Veux”—beat-driven, foreign, imploring—and we begin to move as she whisper-talks into her little mic. I can’t make out what she is saying, only that her voice is not coming into my head but through it. She urges me, all of us, from the inside, through a round of jumping jacks that never seems to end until it does. Then we stand, hands over heart, until we begin again, this time with squats, and a song that seems to speak for Toomey, Avicii’s “Wake Me Up”:

Feeling my way through the darkness

guided by a beating heart

I can’t tell where the journey will end

but I know where to start… 

I feel weak, unable to keep up. It’s been a while since I set foot in a gym or onto a mat. My body creaks. I am angry that it won’t move how I want it to, how I bend my waist into my squats, how my hands won’t clap above my head during the jacks. And don’t talk to me about the goddamned burpees, of which I’ve done, maybe, one.  

“Stay in your body,” Toomey says. “Don’t let anyone fucking tell you how to live. How to be. Who you are.” She looks at me through the crowd, and I look down. Ashamed. It’s like she’s reading the script inside of my head. I. Can. Not. Do. This. I feel her stare, and look back up. She nods, as though telegraphing, Yes, you can. If you want to. You can. 

As the frenzy of the class builds, Toomey riffs like a preacher on the precepts of pain, of time, of overcoming self-imposed limitations. Yet she doesn’t demand focus or discipline. She asks for something else entirely: surrender. 

As the exercises grow more intense, so does the music get louder. The yelps and grunts that explode from the crowd lay down a baseline rhythm for the room, a deep-throated mantra in which soon enough I lose myself, too. Because the more I move, the deeper Toomey’s raspy voice penetrates my brain, the looser my limbs become, the stronger. And then my revelation: I am frightened not of my weakness but of my strength. I’m frightened not of what my body can’t do, but by what I have never let it do: be powerful. 

Meanwhile, Toomey begins to twist into her own unique contortions, as though gripped in an exorcism. Then, she comes down and brings us with her. We stand, hand to heart, feet to floor. “All you need is right under your hand,” she whispers. “It’s all you need. Not the cars or the clothes or the stuff.” I gaze toward her shop with the $800 gemstone pendants and the $100 beauty serums, and I wonder with all that’s being offered, for a price, is my heart truly enough?

The post Trusting Yourself Enough to Break appeared first on Mindful.

[i-write-sins-not-tragedies]

Turning A Spy

Pairing: Johann Bauer x Miyoshi from Joker Game

Warnings: Spoilers for Episode 11! Blood, corpses, murder

Vampire AU - Johann, secretly a vampire, discovers that Maki Katsuhiko (Miyoshi) is alive while visiting the hospital room where his body was kept as bait.

A/N: A fix-it for episode 11. Ongoing. I’m new to posting my writing so uh. Good luck. Please be gentle. I haven’t read the novels. #historicalinaccuracy

Cross-posted on AO3:

http://archiveofourown.org/works/12463365/chapters/28364091 

3326 words

Chapter 1

Lieutenant Johann Bauer told the nurse that he was just checking on the Japanese body to see if anything had been moved. He closed the door quietly - so as to not disturb the doctors at work and their patients, or respect for the dead? - and walked over to one of the occupied beds.

"So this is 'Maki Katsuhiko... "

The photo did him no justice.

He's even more beautiful in person... Johann caught himself thinking.

Maki clearly knew how to take care of himself. His nails were clean and even, and his hair had a healthy shine and was still styled impeccably. He looked calm and at peace. And he was supposedly a Japanese spy, if Wolff was right. What a shame, to have died in a train crash. An accident took his life, instead of an enemy. Although, weren't they supposed to be allies?

If so, it was unlikely that that was his real name, but what else to call him? "Spy" seemed so distant and "traitor" seemed a bit harsh. He might have just been following orders. Although it would be dangerous and foolish to send an unwilling participant to spy on a foreign nation.

Johann contemplated the corpse for a moment, but the smell of the other dead bodies was too distracting. There was quite a bit of blood and the scent of death hung heavy in the poorly ventilated room. It was unsettling, even for an immortal. Although he had fed recently, it was enough to whet his appetite. However, he preferred a fresh catch, and he had more important matters to attend to.

They hadn't found anything at Maki's apartment, and nothing on his person. If he was a spy, he was an incredibly good one, but Wolff seemed convinced. Whoever his spy master was, he must have been excellent. Although Johann felt that Wolff's interest in this "lieutenant colonel Yuuki" was too fervent to be purely a result of his job. His longtime grudge was bordering on obsession.

It would be an important matter, to say the least, if it was true. And, he admitted to himself, he was interested. This man "Maki" had lived in Germany undetected for a year and might have stayed longer if not for his unfortunate end. He must have been impossibly cunning.

How... How had he done it? Lived alone in a foreign country for a year with a fake name? A fake back story? An entire fabricated life, all while continuing to work for the Japanese government in secret.

And he apparently knew his art, too. They had asked around and interrogated all of his co-workers, his bosses, his neighbors, but no one seemed to suspect anything. "Maki" was an artsy type, apparently playing classical music often, but he also knew his business.

Johann considered the coincidence of his situation. He doubted they ever would have met if not for the accident, the thief, and Wolff.

The same blonde nurse on duty as the last time waved him through, used to his visitation by the third day. She barely glanced at the casualty paperwork he used as an excuse to periodically check Wolff's bait. She kept looking at him through her eyelashes while writing a report.

"Welcome back to the graveyard, officer," she said in a low voice so the living patients wouldn't hear, hesitantly checking his reaction.

He fought a smile. "Thank you. Sorry to keep interrupting your work. I'm sure you're just as busy as we are."

"It's no bother at all! Sort of, breaks up the day!"

"You seem in high spirits. Doesn't this atmosphere bring you down?"

"Oh, you get used to it," she dismissed quickly. "I'm sure you've seen your fair share of the grittier side of life in the army..."

He smiled wryly, "How right you are..." The darker side of life stayed with him outside of his work as well…

Just then he caught a whiff of fresh blood, a lot of it, as the door opened behind him. Several sets of footsteps ran down the hospital corridors out off sight, and urgent German echoed off the tile.

"Oh my, seems there's been accident..."

Johann's stomach growled.

"Skipped breakfast, did you, sir?"

Johann returned her smile, "Dinner and lunch, too, unfortunately. The train accident left a mountain of paperwork for us. Nothing compared to the hard work you medical professionals put in, of course."

A blush began to creep into her cheeks.

"You know, our cafeteria isn't as bad as some of the patients make it out to be, Mr..."

"Bauer."

"Mr. Bauer," her blush deepened, "and I'm sure they would be happy to serve an honorable officer such as yourself, sir."

"Thank you, Miss..."

"M-Monika, sir..."

"Thank you, Miss Monika, for the recommendation. I'll have to try it before I leave today. Now, if you'll excuse me..."

"Oh, sorry to take up your time!"

"My pleasure," he smiled blandly and closed the door behind himself. He had no intention of doing so, but he had told the truth about skipping meals and being swamped with work. He had to handle other real cases on the side of this spy goose chase and he hadn't fed decently in days. The wafting scent of so much fresh blood had made his mouth start to water. Perhaps he would ask that nurse out to dinner that night...

No, no, no, too obvious a target. Besides, he had to focus on his current task.

Although... There was probably nothing to do now if the Japanese were done with the body of their spy but to bury him...

How could Wolff have expected him to catch a spy who had been active for a year under their very noses? How was he supposed to know that they had hidden the microfilm in his collar? How was he supposed to know that an old man with a cane and a limp would be a spy master? His head was starting to pound and his stomach complained loudly. He grew more frustrated by the minute. He had thought that there might be some way he could redeem himself in the eyes of his superior officer if he found a clue that could lead back to the spymaster...

But there really wasn't a lot to do but creepily watch over this dead man's body... Focus.

He performed a half-hearted search of the room, not sure exactly what he was supposed to be looking for. He didn't want to return to Wolff empty-handed, but he himself didn't believe that Wolff was right about this whole spy nonsense. Maki's roommates seemed untouched and in ever poorer shape. If no one claimed them of them soon they would have to be buried before the stench and decay got out of hand.

Maki, however, looked as picturesque as ever...like he was only sleeping... The tragic, somehow ambiguous image reminded Johann of a painting he once saw... What was it...? Ah.

Ophelia.

Christ, Johann, get a hold of yourself. This is not normal and you have been in here way too long. Neither your attraction to... Men, nor, obviously, a first for blood - OK, "Maki" is very beautiful (those cherry-red lips; those long eyelashes; that hair that looks so soft - SNAP OUT OF IT) but people (especially that nurse) will definitely get suspicious. Even if they wouldn't suspect him a vampire (the truth), they might of a fascination with the dead (well, he technically was UN-dead) or worse, of necrophilia (false) which was also not a great thing to be accused of, although perhaps not as bad as being a vampire?

Johann didn't want to find out. He took a deep breath to calm down and refocus. Mm, the sickly sweet scent of dried blood, the somehow familiar and comfortable smell of death, dried sweat, the faint fragrance of cologne - hm, subtle, delicate, enticing - from Maki... It was nice. Shame. He thought briefly he might like to ask what the cologne was, if Maki was alive.

And... Something smelled good. Really good. All of this blood was making him a little hungry. He really should go out tonight and pick up something fresh...

Fresh...

He inhaled sharply and his eyes snapped open. There was fresh blood.

Right here.

Maki.

Katsuhiko Maki was alive.

***

Johann stared down at Maki's still form, posed exactly as he had been placed, slack, eyes closed (evidently by the spymaster), "deathly" pale from blood loss, and he had lost a lot. Since he was taken to the hospital as a dead man, they hadn't bothered to patch up the huge, gaping hole in his chest. Johann could probably see straight through him if he tried. Maki's clothes were soaked with his own blood, and the bed beneath him. It was everywhere. His hands. His collar. He looked every bit the ill-fated train crash victim. There was no trace of life in his countenance.

Johann knelt beside Maki and took off his gloves, dropping them to the floor. He pressed two fingers to Maki's neck to feel for a pulse and started to lean over Maki's face to try to feel for the movement of air from his breath - when his hat started to tip off of his head, he threw it to the floor - and closed his eyes to concentrate.

What felt like an entire minute passed. He pressed slightly harder, searching for any trace of a pulse.

It was impossible.

Of course, this man had been declared dead at the scene by medical professionals. Well, it was pretty obvious that no one could have survived for long being impaled by that bar in such a way....and yet, this scent-

-the scent of fresh blood. He was dying, and very near to death, yes, but -

-there! Or did he imagine it? He hastily unbuttoned Maki's shirt (Wolff would have his head if he found out that he had just ripped the shirt off a dead Japanese man, spy or not, regardless whether or not he was truly dead or actually alive) and pressed his ear to Maki's chest, at the same time testing Maki's wrist for a pulse. In this position, he might be able to detect the potential rise and fall of Maki's chest, if he was still breathing.

If he really was alive.

Was he going crazy? Was it just wishful thinking? If he could control his vampiric urges, then surely he should be able to resist entertaining any... Deviant fantasies with a corpse, albeit that of a man who must have been very attractive when he was alive, as handsome as he was in death- focus.

He must look insane, kneeling over the body of a Japanese man, a stranger, who had a hole clear through his chest and was covered in his own blood...or, perhaps to a bystander, a bereaved friend… But, still...

Johann realized that he had no idea what he would do if Maki was alive.

That train of thought was immediately derailed by a faint beat. His enhanced senses could just barely make out the weak rush of blood through Maki's veins, bidden by that single heartbeat.

***

Maki was alive. Maki is alive.

Johann paced anxiously back and forth before his company of sleeping corpses. And one dying man. Who could be a Japanese spy. Who could have leaked countless state secrets and German political tactics and more to the Japanese, who were supposed to be an ally in this war.

He was a traitor. Non-Aryan. A liar and a thief.

But he was dying. And Johann could save him.

"Save" him.

Maki wouldn't last much longer, certainly not until his Japanese allies could arrive, and he was beyond mortal medical science now. Each minute could be his last.

Johann was kneeling beside "Maki" again before he could finish thinking through the decision he seemed to have made.

I'm a killer, I survive by killing, and I fight for Germany in this war, under a man who believes that people deserve to die just for the way they look, and I'm going to try to save the life of an enemy spy?

Johann leaned over Maki, still indiscernibly alive, even at this distance. Even to Johann who had heard the telltale beat. Shaking, Johann cupped Maki's chin and turned his head to expose Maki's throat and collarbone.

Johann’s own pulse drummed in his ears. Not only had he never actually turned anyone (that he knew of and definitely not on purpose) but if anyone walked in he would be discovered as either a vampire or a homosexual or a necrophile and swiftly executed. Or tortured and experimented on. He had had plenty of time during his countless sleepless nights to imagine a variety of worst case scenarios.

Was he really going to do this? For this beautiful stranger? For a Japanese spy? For some unfortunate, handsome man? He was going to risk his own (after-)life?

If Maki was conscious, this would seem either a pervert's sexual assault or an attack on his life, but Johann doubted that Maki had the strength left to put up a fight. He was probably comatose anyway, the state he was in. Johann convinced himself so.

Johann pulled Maki's collar away from his neck and brushed his lips from collarbone to over the carotid artery. He inhaled deeply - this close, Maki's scent was stronger, pleasantly mixing with his cologne and, just below Johann's lips, the fresh blood. He smelled so good - like easy prey, like a wounded animal, like-

Johann wished he had fed last night -- he was disgusted by the combination of predatory hunger and lust he felt.

The hunger did make it easy for his fangs to sharpen and grow. He gently kissed the skin above that lovely, pulsing life line and sucked to pull the blood to the surface, leaving a light bruise.

With the fresh blood so tantalizing beneath his lips, he bit down, sinking his fangs into Maki's neck. Maki's blood drained into his tongue, and he tasted it like dark chocolate - bittersweet, but thin and dry - just - just a sip - he sucked gently and his mouth filled with it -

Maki shuddered - Johann snapped out of it - Maki had raised his arms and grabbed Johann's shirt. Maki's eyes were open, staring down at him, but glassy and barely focused. Maki tried weakly to push Johann away. He was surprisingly strong for someone impaled, presumed dead, and comatose for days, and ripped Johann's fans from his neck, tearing the flesh around the bite and spraying blood onto the sheets.

Johann grabbed Maki's wrists and loosened Maki's hold on his uniform. Maki, however, immediately slipped out of his grip and slammed his palm into Johann's jaw, splitting Johann's lip with his own fangs. Maki slapped one hand over the bite on his neck and sat up, coughing blood, retreating to the other side of the hospital cot and aiming a kick for Johann's temple.

Johann grabbed the leg and Maki took that moment to grab Johann's hair. He made to wrap his legs around him in a lock-hold. Johann held onto Maki's leg and the hand in his hair.

"sh-sh-sh, Maki- Maki, please calm down-" Johann hissed.

He pried Maki's hand off his head and shoved his legs to the side. Maki kicked at Johann's side. Johann grabbed his ankle and stood up and over the bed, pinning Maki down with his body weight, his leg trapped between them and his active arm secured in Johann's grasp.

Maki's eyes were becoming more alert, and his movements more controlled and accurate, but he simply didn't have the strength to fight off Johann, a soldier (and vampire).

This position forced Maki to use his bloody hand to go for Johann's eyes in an act of desperation. Johann caught his wrist and held it beside the other one on the bed above, straddling Maki.

Not exactly the way Johann wanted to end up in this position.

Maki choked something in a strangled voice that Johann could bet was Japanese for “let go” but he only tightened his grip.

"shh-!" Johann shushed. Footsteps were approaching from the hallway.

Johann froze and his eyes glanced at the door. Maki noticed, and they both pushed in their struggle, locked in position and staring apprehensively at the doorknob, listening over Maki's hushed, labored breathing. Maki's arms trembled as he continued to try to push Johann off. The nurse and a couple of patients were talking right outside.

Did the noise of the cot scraping across the floor attract attention? Did they hear the scuffle?

But the voices faded back into the white noise.

Maki's push was beginning to weaken, and he made a quiet noise like he was trying to clear his throat. Johann turned back to Maki, whose eyes were losing focus. His beautiful face was contorted with pain and fear and confusion, but it seemed like he was beginning to lose consciousness.

"Maki- Maki?" Johann whispered the name like a question itself.

Maki coughed more blood and swallowed thickly.

"What... are you trying... to do to... me?" he rasped in accented German.

"I am sorry, I - this is kind of hard to explain, but - I'm trying to help -"

"You're trying to kill me."

"I am not trying to hurt you -..." Maki glared at him accusingly.

"Ah, I am not trying to kill you, I am trying to save your life!” Naturally, the Japanese wouldn’t trust him after waking to his teeth at his throat.

“… I'll let go of you, now."

Johann searched Maki's face, and after a second began to pull away slowly, and after another moment released Maki's arm and leg. Maki immediately slapped his hand back over his bleeding bite and recoiled against the wall, but without shaking the cot. He coughed quietly while his clouded eyes scanned the room. There wasn't anything apart from the true corpses in their cots. There was a door and a window. Through the white linen, an oncoming storm concealed the mid-day sun.

"I wouldn't recommend it. This is the third floor."

Maki turned back to look at him.

Blood was seeping through Maki's fingers and pouring from his abdomen wound.

"You're going to bleed out - please let me help you," Johann tried again.

Maki made another attempt to clear his throat.

"You-" he was interrupted by a coughing fit he barely quieted and spat blood on the already splattered bed.

"You bit me!" he barely choked out, yet still managed to be indignant.

"I-I had to!"

Maki doubled over in pain, and maybe laughter, "you had to bite a dead man...?"

"But you're still alive. Just not for long. If your plan is to wait for your allies from Japan to come to get you they will be too late."

"What... Are you talking about?" Maki looked at him like he was crazy.

Johann moved closer. "There is nothing any doctor can do for you now."

Maki's eyes widened in fear and realization and he shrank back.

"You mean... I've woken up just for my last moments...?... I would rather have stayed asleep..." he coughed bitterly.

"I can help you, if you trust me," Johann said as he took the hand Maki held over his bite. Maki jerked back and grabbed his wrist.

"Why on earth would I trust you? You tried to kill me!"

"I didn't, I'm trying to save you, just let me-" Johann leaned over to nip at Maki's neck again, but Maki brought his other hand up to clap him on the ear, causing Johann's head to ring. Maki grabbed him by the neck, thumb pressing on Johann’s own carotid artery, but then his grip slackened, his arms fell to his sides, and he slumped against the blond man with a sigh cut short.

[casifires]

GAWD DAMN 😦

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