STAR WARS: possible spoiler warning

[avali]

STAR WARS CALL OUT POST:
STEP 1: pick a muse
STEP 2: leave a comment with their name in the subject line, pictures, words or all of the above
STEP 3: profit

Comments

[hunx]

[There's that warm feeling again that he has to hold at arms length. It's one thing to know one's own capabilities and be confident, to face those who'd question him with unwavering resolve, and something entirely different to see it reflected in someone's eyes. To be validated in your beliefs.

It's difficult to not feel a sense of gratitude for the recognition, which is ridiculous since he is the superior officer.]

We all have faults, FN-2187. If I denied that, I wouldn't be very good at my job.

[reconditioning]

Then let me deny it for you. [If he can't see the field, if he's too much of a risk, if he can't benefit the First Order in any other way than making sure its backbone stays secure, respected, appreciated, it's fine. It's more than fine. His duty is defined by the Order, his worth by his ability to commit, and his life by the fact that he belongs here, at his general's side, more than anywhere else in the entire galaxy.]

honestly i think this might be more gay than the gag tag

[hunx]

[He can't turn away from this, can't stop, can't second guess what's happening because this is what he asked for. He asked for FN-2187's devotion and here it is. If this was a mistake, he had to accept the consequences of placing himself dead center in the focal lens of infectious empathy.

What he can do is adapt to it, or try. He just has to remember that no matter what happens, he cannot let this become an issue should anything happen that would rattle the cage. Let the attachment exist, but be strong enough to cut it off or rip it out when the time comes.

So, with that thought, he knowingly takes the metaphorical leap right into his own grave.

The look on his face has all the gravity of someone who has seen death, but with all the serenity of someone who has accepted it a long time ago as he reaches out to take 2187's hand in his own, thumb running over the armor plating before gripping tightly.]

Thank you. [For believing in him, for believing in what he's doing here, unspoken but implied in his gaze.]

just makes it worse nbd

[reconditioning]

[All the half-formed remnants of his old life still pooling under his skin only rarely show their colors. It's part of the program: efficiency first, unwavering allegiance to the cause they all serve - conformity to his last drop of blood while on duty. Moments like this, though (few and far between as they are) expose those weathered edges. Let him breathe again with an old, familiar rhythm that shouldn't come as easy as it does (he doesn't remember thumbing someone else's hand in the dark, doesn't remember what it was like carrying someone's broken bones to success under Phasma's heel) but his armored fingers don't shrug off Hux's grip.

Instead it's something like pride that swells up in his chest, between his guarded ribs. Like being needed-- wanted-- a single trooper singled out for something he can't possibly fathom.

Another beat, and he leans in, leaving too little room between them - unblinking.] You don't need to thank me, sir.

Ever.

[He lives for the First Order, it's true, but he'd die for its brilliant, unparalleled General.]