Armoring Up

Based on @cacodaemonia‘s art of Wooley here. Slasher is @alamogirl80‘s sweet medic oc that I adore. I hope you both like it

This is vaguely (hand-wavily) placed in The Reconstruction Corps AU but also has a sprinkling of my own au in it. Like Wooley’s backstory and his batchmates (there are 10 of them split into two squads of five).

For reference, I took Wooley’s backstory of being a POW and made it a bit hurtier and make more sense in my mind with his presence in canon. Wooley and his squad were assigned to a different battalion than the 212th under Commander Rill and General Tamor (both of whom are my ocs). Tamor was killed in the battle, and Commander Rill, along with about fifty of his men, were captured. The Separatist General used Rill’s men (including Wooley and his squad) to try to coax Rill into giving away GAR intel and then selling the survivors to Trandoshans. They believe Rill was killed. Wooley, Cyan, and six others were the only ones to be rescued by the 212th and eventually joined Ghost Company.

Also, this scene might actually end up being a part of my longfic if I end up liking it and it fits.

I wrote most of this late at night, so if it doesn’t make sense, let me know 😅

Wooley strapped on each piece of armor, making sure the mag-seals all connected correctly without any risk of coming undone. It was a ritual every clone had learned to do at a young age, only now he had more pieces to put on. ARC armor was heavier than regular infantry armor, and it showed. Especially with the kama and the shoulder guards. There was also the added weight of knowing that more lives relied on him to come up with plans on the spot and get everyone out of danger. Or as many as he possibly could. That was one of the lessons he’d learned during ARC training: you can’t save everyone, no matter how much you wish you could.

This particular armoring was different though. This one was special in the same way that armoring up in his whites for the first time was special and the way that painting his armor for the first time was special.

After failing to complete ARC training the first time and having to relive some of his worst memories the second time, Wooley knew he’d earned both his armor and the jaig eyes painted on the chest-piece.

The door opened and Cyan entered the room. The last member of Green Squad besides Wooley himself.

“If you stand around preening any more, your bucket won’t fit on your head,” Cyan sniped.

Wooley sighed. Cyan hadn’t forgiven him for accepting the promotion to ARC. He’d become overprotective from the moment that their other three squad members had been taken from them and likely sold to the Trandoshans for their awful hunting arenas. Wooley didn’t like to think of what had happened to them after that. It hurt too much.

“Cyan . .  “ Wooley started, but Cyan interrupted him with a shake of his head.

“Commander Cody told me to tell you that there’s a briefing on the bridge in twenty. He wants you there a few minutes early.”

Before Wooley had even opened his mouth to acknowledge the message, Cyan was gone, the door swishing shut behind him and leaving Wooley alone to his thoughts.

He understood the reason why Cyan was upset, but that didn’t mean it hurt any less. ARCs were sent on dangerous missions, usually with only a squad or another ARC as backup. He was trained for this, but that training was hard-earned.

The first time he’d gone to ARC training, Wooley had nearly made it all the way through before they’d reached the training for Protocol When Captured by Enemy Combatants.

"As ARC troopers, you will regularly be working with Generals and Commanders on highly classified missions. You will know information that the Separatists will want, no matter what. My job is to make sure you won't break if you get captured. Who can tell me what kind of methods they might use to try to get classified information from you?" Alpha-17 asked as he stood in front of Wooley’s fellow trainees.

The standard responses were immediately thrown out as well as some more bizarre ones that were technically possible but definitely unlikely in an actual situation. Starvation, dehydration, extreme temperatures, pain, isolation and more.

17 nodded as the answers began to trickle to a stop. Wooley barely noticed over the roar in his ears and the memories that flashed through his mind. None of these ARC candidates really understood what it was like to be captured by the Separatists. They didn’t understand their cruelty. Or the pain they caused.

Wooley usually asked questions and provided thoughtful, detailed answers to any questions that 17 might toss out. Today, he was silent. Until now.

Wooley took a small step forward and a deep breath.

"They'll use your brothers against you," Wooley said, clear and loud enough for everyone to hear. There was a stiff sharpness from the way he was desperately clinging to every ounce of his control. "Everything that might be done to you will be done to them but worse. Not even your death will spare them. The Separatists will use every resource available to them to pry the information out of you. They will do everything to you."

17 had called Cody to get the full story and 17, Cody, the 212th CMO, and Wooley all agreed that he would return to the 212th for a while. He had the makings of a great ARC candidate, 17 had said, but Wooley had needed to heal a bit first. He’d eventually gone back and completed the full ARC training program with a lot of support from his fellow ARC candidates and even 17 himself.

The armor was special. He’d earned it, and it was the first time he would be wearing said armor with the 212th. Wooley grabbed his spare power packs for his blasters and stared at them for a minute, thinking. Remembering.

The door slid open again, and Wooley looked up, hoping that Cyan wasn’t back to potentially start another fight. All of the tension bled out of his shoulders when he saw Slasher in the doorway, a look of concern in his eyes.

“I just passed Cyan. Are you okay?” Slasher asked.

Wooley shrugged. He knew he and Cyan needed to have a conversation at some point and work out the differences between them. Wooley knew it was all due to his brother’s overprotectiveness since he was older than Wooley and they’d already lost Talla, Kita, and Maie.

“I’m okay. I don’t think he’ll ever forgive me for becoming an ARC and putting myself in danger. Although I think he’s mostly angry at Commander Cody now,” Wooley said as he slid the spare power pack into the correct pouch. He dropped his eyes away from Slasher and fiddled with his glove, even though he’d put it on a couple of minutes ago and it was perfect already.

“For what it’s worth, I think you’re going to do some pretty great things as an ARC. You’ve survived so much already, and I know that you’re going to do amazing,” Slasher said, walking over to pull Wooley into a proper hug.

Wooley leaned gratefully into his friend’s warmth and support. His eyes slid shut and he wrapped his own arms around Slasher, sinking into the offered comfort. Slasher always gave the best hugs, and Wooley was not shy about taking advantage of that particular talent.

“And the armor is pretty badass,” Slasher added.

With a snort and a chuckle, Wooley stepped back and turned to finish putting on his armor, Slasher stepping forward to help. “Apparently I’m needed on the bridge. I’ll see you later?” he said as he tucked his bucket under his arm.

“Always,” Slasher replied and knocked his vambrace against Wooley’s. “Go show off your new armor, Wooley. I know you’ve been eager to this whole time.”

Wooley grinned and tossed a casual salute towards Slasher before striding out into the corridor. He had earned the armor twice over. He absolutely deserved to show it off.

taglist: @justasigh37

maybe i get to be a little selfish and horrible. as a treat.

ok ACTUALLY saying goodnight now because im a sick and twisted individual who cannot stop thinking abt bdubs n etho. i am like a bug stuck in a little plastic cup but the cup is the ethubs session 5 videos. god!!! god help me!! im fucking stuck!!!! oh my god!!!!

anyway as a public service announcement to the mice living in my home with me; if you would stop shitting everywhere I would probably be like litterally feeding you

this could be a beautiful relationship if you could just like learn to bathe and fashion little mouse toilets

you’d get tortilla chips and I’d get a swarm of rodents

Guess who’s getting their first onesie for Christmas!? Yep! It’s me! :D >u< ,, I’m just so excited! :( ,, i wanted onesie for so long!! 🥺💗💗

Hangry

.

Me reading 2 webtoons at work because there's literally nothing to do 🧍‍♀️

Turn Your Ghosts Into Mine 

“He shall have eyes the color of stars”...“He shall smell like the ocean in winter and revel in the night. He will be funny and he will love me the moment he sees me.”

“Amas Veritas,” Nesta reminded Feyre, naming their spell. “You’re not creating a man, you’re summoning true love.”

Feyre giggled again. “Same thing, Nes.”

Nesta looked at Elain, who reached for orange magnolias. She wanted to take it seriously. “He’ll hear my call a mile away. He can flip pancakes in the air. He’ll have molten colored hair and one brown eye, one gold. He’ll be marvelously kind and he will whistle my favorite song.”

Elain and Feyre both turned to Nesta who sighed softly and took a blood red gladiola. “He’ll be strong and disciplined…his hair will be black and it will be long. He’ll know how to use a sword…he’ll know me on sight.”

“None of these men exist,” Feyre whispered as they crept into the night, their sleep dresses fluttering around their legs.

“That’s the whole point,” Nesta replied with exasperation. “If they don’t exist, we can’t fall in love, and if we can’t fall in love, we can’t get hurt.”

By @separatist-apologist​ & @highladydawn​ ☽ 🌕 ☾  Read it Here

i want to write a donna beneviento fic

gar being the only titan that pretty much all the other titans get along with even when they don’t get along with each other is middle child culture

Deny yourself. Scroll through Tumblr while you just hump the air. Don’t touch yourself, don’t hump on an object. Just get yourself all worked up refusing pleasure. See how long you can last till you fall apart. Till your mind goes numb and you’re too much of a dumb slut to do anything else besides deny yourself. Come on, move your hand away.

Want to write an essay about how the Watsonian and Doyleist critiques of Batman don't exist independent of one another. But not enough spoons.

crying and sobbing and fucking emails that never end im going to scream

Just got my second Covid shot!! Hope my arm doesn't hurt as much as last time ^^"

También ya empezé con el pre del traductorado,el tema es que no estoy haciendo un preuniversitario estoy haciendo un pre para el preuniversitario

Today's sketches are of Snufkin and sniff from the story 'cedric' from tales from moominvalley and Little my seems to be leading moomin somewhere..