Y'know What, Fuck This Bullshit. I Need To Know Y'all Are Actually Against It.

Y'know what, fuck this bullshit. I need to know y'all are actually against it.

Reblog this if you will NOT use or support Post+.

I hope to make @staff see how that is total bullshit. Tumblr will die without writers/creators.

37th Battalion (The Lucky Batch ☘️)

Little bits of Cypher ( @catboy-tech ) character exploration.

time and places

"Vod, get down from there.”

Cypher pretended not to hear and stretched his arms, placing both hands under his head as he stared at the storage room’s ceiling and hummed. His bucket laid right next to him contently as he scrolled down on his datapad, eyes quickly absorbing the latest archives Luna had shared with him.

“I know you can hear me,” Sparks shouted from below, and he could picture the frown on his face clearly. “Get your shebs down here, you need to do storage duty.”

"I'm good, thanks,” he called, his gaze never leaving the screen. His fingers tapped a light rhythm over his chest and he heard his brother’s annoyed sigh from the ground, followed by some shuffling and irritated whispers.

He paid no attention to it as he skipped over to the next texts, this one about an extinct culture on the edge of the Unknown Regions, and didn’t realize someone was climbing up to him until something tapped his foot.

Cypher peeked over the pad to look at the intruder, and found Jackal grinning over the side of the crate pile, eyebrow raised.

“Yo,” he nodded, and then returned to his reading without another word.

The pilot clicked his tongue. “If I have to put up with this osik, you’re too, vod.”

And without warning, he yanked him off the crates and sent him tumbling down.

Ballast stared at them blankly. “I have absolutely no idea what you just said.”

“Cypher—“

“I’m here, I’m here,” the interpreter announced, already at their side and focused on the locals. “What’s the situation?”

They proceeded to repeat what they had said before, their language foreign and fast to every clones’ ears, save for those of the one who seemed to be taking every word in, pitching in with some equally confusing drawings on the floor to better understand the explanation. His brothers watched the exchange silently, Cypher and the chief going back and forth over a subject none of them had a single clue on.

After a few moments, the trooper nodded and turned to the rest of the squad, a frown on his face.

“So?” Boots asked, eager to proceed with the mission. Kriff, it was so damn humid out here. “Did they tell you why they are so insistent on us not going down this route? We really need to deliver these supplies today and this is the fastest way.”

“There’s a Separatist outpost that way.” Cypher pointed to the other road, half hidden in thick vegetation and covered in heaps of unstable mud. Great. Before any of his brothers could protest, he gestured to the path the locals were adamant they didn't go through. “This track is rigged with landmines and, the chief here told me, it’s the territory of a big, very aggressive massif species.”

There was a collective sigh, and someone muttered “we always get stuck with the worst missions” as the squad braced themselves for the long, tedious journey ahead of them. Ballast was at the front, wielding a vibroblade back and forth to widen the path for the crates and supplies to pass through, and Cypher took a moment to thank the residents for their help before joining the team’s rear.

“What would we do without you?” Foxy asked once he reached his side, punching the interpreter on the shoulder with affection.

Cypher smiled cheekily. “Probably explode in painful death, or get eaten by local fauna.”

His brother grimaced, struggling against the slippery muck as they moved forward. “Yeah, I’m glad we’re not doing that.”

“Cypher, take cover!"

Ryder reached out with one hand and yanked his brother up into the small walker right as a bomb landed where he had been standing a click ago, blowing everything to bits. Debris flew through the air and clattered against the machine’s legs, making it stumble and shake but kept going over boulders and wrecked ships and tanks.

The trooper blinked, snapping back into reality, to the chaos of blasters and explosions and screams, and clutched his blaster tightly. Kriff, he’d done again.

Cypher tried to stand up in the vehicle, trying to at least shoot at the droids, but his head was pushed down as another round of fire hit them.

"Curse it, vod! Focus!" His brother barked angrily, blasting non-stop at the clankers raining hell on them.

The small walker tripped over some metal scraps and bumps, and although Ryder was able to keep it from collapsing, the abrupt movement sent his passenger flying off into the ground with a grunt and a roll.

“Don’t you dare die!” He heard him cry out as the battle raged on around him, and suddenly he was shooting and panting as he scrambled to his feet and ducked the enemy’s attacks.

His vision tunnelled as adrenaline spiked in his blood, his head, and the sounds of blasters and fire were replaced by the beating of his galloping heart as he landed blow after blow after blow on the droids in front of him.

He didn't feel the impacts breaking his skin, the nasty cracks of protest in his hands as bone met metal in painful punches, the way his shoulders ached and stung as he took down another clanker, as he walked over the body of another dead brother.

Cypher fought, because that's what he was bred to do.

@lavenderstaars @mango-peachjuice @namesmox @lusiawonder @monako-jinn-stories @foxlock @cosmicghostie @oo-hazel-oo @generaltano @radbatch @letsunity @longearedowlfromouterspace @maygalodon @lynnpaper

Jackal: sometimes I just have the best ideas

Raffle: you just crash landed because you wanted to look at the ducks

Jackal: the ducklings were w a d d l i n g

THANK YOU FOR THE FLUFF IT IS SO SWEET AND PURE💗

37th Battalion (The Lucky Batch☘️)

Some soft Kenhla making sure the battalion’s medic takes care of himself. (I CAN WRITE SOFT THINGS,,, SOMETIMES)

Peps, take a break.

His head was pounding like crazy, and Pepper closed his eyes tightly as a wave of tiredness washed over his chest.

Maker, had the lights always been this painfully bright?

"Pepper."

The clone looked up from his hands and spotted a couple of red lekku framing Kenhla’s concerned face. She snapped her fingers over his eyes, trying to snap him back into reality, and with a quick cough, he straightened his back.

“Hey, General,” he said, his voice cheerful as always; yet the words were weirdly heavy in his tongue. His throat felt like sandpaper, the air rasping against his chest.

She frowned, unimpressed, and clicked her tongue. "Peps, you're definitely sick.”

"No, I'm not.” He coughed again, hard, and his vision blurred for a moment, his feet wobbling beneath him. Kenhla reached out to catch him, but the medic lifted his hand to stop her and gave her a slightly pained smile. “I'm fine."

The togruta raised an eyebrow, obviously not believing him. “I had to call you four times before you responded. You’re not “fine”. Did you stay overnight taking stock of the medical supplies again?”

Pepper shrugged innocently, avoiding her gaze. He fiddled with his hands. “Maybe?”

“Oh, vod, we talked about this.” The Jedi sighed, a hand settling gently on his shoulders and giving him a small squeeze. “I know you worry we won't have enough to treat the wounded, but it's more important that our head medic takes care of himself first.”

He grimaced at her words, knowing she did have a point. But he just wanted to make sure everything was okay, with Jackal and Ballast always being on fire, Cypher and the others breaking their hands punching droids, the two little padawans who tended to stumble and scrape their knees—

“Come on,” she said, gesturing with her head towards the medbay. “Let’s get you something for that fever.”

“I’m alright, General, I promise."

“Either you come with me, or I’m telling Foxy you refuse to take care of yourself.”

He scrunched his nose. “…that’s not fair.”

“I don’t care,” she grinned, knowing she had him, and made an exaggerated gesture towards the end of the corridor. "Now move your shebs to a bed."

Pepper gave a defeated sigh and followed the Jedi to the medbay, making sure to put one step in front of the other. Kenhla guided him to the nearest free bunk and, with a gentle push, he found himself lying on the table, the cold pillow under his head a welcome sensation to contrast his feverish skin.

“I’m going to tell Brisk to make you some tomato soup,” she told him once he’d settled, and then pointed at him with both eyebrows raised. “Don’t you dare move from here, Peps. Trust me, I’ll know.”

The medic couldn’t help but chuckle at her tone, nodding slightly so as to show her he understood without scrambling the rest of his brain. Before turning around, she placed something on his chest and gave him a final cheeky smile.

“Get some rest, trooper. That’s an order.”

He couldn’t help but return the smile, the pressure in his temple now incredibly annoying as he lifted his hand to salute. “Sir, yes, sir.”

As the general left the medbay to let him rest, Pepper looked down and found a “get well soon” sticker beaming brightly at him.

@lavenderstaars @mango-peachjuice @namesmox @lusiawonder @monako-jinn-stories @foxlock @cosmicghostie @oo-hazel-oo @generaltano @radbatch @letsunity @longearedowlfromouterspace @maygalodon @catboy-tech @lynnpaper

AWWWWW🥺🥺

The Lucky Batch☘️

Finally finished Ryder’s backstory :D

Venators

CT-0017 loved being on venators. He loved being on a massive shuttle, flying through endless space. They had everything a clone could possibly need. Medbays, refreshers, bunks, mess halls, they were essentially flying bases.

“Once again, you’ve proved very useful with your knowledge of weapons,” CT-1882 said to CT-0017. “I don’t think any of us would have used the right weapons if you hadn’t told us which ones to use.”

“Ha, yeah, you di’kuts really need me, don’t you?” He joked back.

“Hey, I was complimenting you, that doesn’t mean you insult me,” CT-1882 joked back.

“Yeah yeah, get going to the bridge. We need you to fly us back safely. I don’t know if I trust anyone else to control this thing, especially not CT-2019.”

“Sir yes sir,” CT-1882 said while giving his vod a sloppy salute, slapping his arm as he walked away. CT-0017 smiled after him, shaking his head before heading to the armory.

“Hey, CT-0017,” another trooper, CT-2019, said as he walked in, “you think I can keep this blaster?”

“Sure, just make sure you only use it for scouting and stealth. It won’t help much in the middle of a heavy wave, it’s more for sniping.”

“Alright, thanks. And hey, tell CT-1882 that he owes me a drink.”

“I think he owes us all one.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he did,” CT-2019 chuckled. “See ya around, vod,” the clone said before he left the room, a wide grin on his face as he carried away his new weapon.

CT-0017 sat in the armory and prepared to clean his own weapon when something hit the ship and caused him to drop his blaster. He immediately rushed out of the room and to the bridge, wanting to know what was happening.

“CT-1882, what’s going on?” He asked frantically, going over to where his brother was.

“We’re under attack! The separatists don’t seem to have been happy with our win on the ground. They must have called for reinforcements while we were still fighting!”

“Attack squadron, get to your shuttles and get out there! But be careful!” Their general yelled.

“Yes sir!” CT-2019 responded before saluting to CT-0017 and CT-1882. “Keep an eye out for me, would ya?” He joked to the two before running to the hangar.

“CT-1882, we need to get the shields up, fast! They’ve blocked our exit, so don’t worry about flying out of here,” the Dathomirian Jedi yelled.

“Yes sir!”

CT-0017 looked around the room as others were scrambling about, trying to figure out what to do.

They were all alone, having just finished a mission on the planet below them. They had thought they were successful, having won the battle on land. They had even begun to have little celebrations, but that was cut short when they were attacked. They were trapped, with no way out.

“CT-1882, are the shields up yet?” General Lyle yelled.

“Yes sir!”

CT-0017 didn’t know what to do. He was the weapons specialist, and he was much better in ground battle. He also wasn’t a pilot, so he couldn’t fly out and attack the enemy, not that he wanted to.

A large blast from the enemy shook the venator, and CT-0017 had to reach out to steady himself. He looked out the viewport to see explosions all around. His eyes widened as he watched another blast hurdle towards the ship and hit it. The lights flickered for a second before they settled.

“General Lyle, sir! Our shields have been destroyed!” CT-1882 shouted, his eyes wide as he looked at the controls.

“Kriff! We have to get out of direct fire!” General Lyle yelled back.

“What’s going on there?” CT-2019 asked from his shuttle.

“Nothing, don’t worry about us! Focus on fighting out there!” CT-1882 shouted back over the comms.

“I can multitask!” CT-2019 tried to argue.

“CT-2019, watch out!” One of the other clones in the attack squadron shouted over the comms. CT-0017 looked out just as he saw the clone’s ship get blown up by a separatist blast. He nearly fell to the ground as he watched, unable to do anything about his fallen brother. He wouldn’t even have a body to bury.

“CT-2019!” CT-1882 shouted into his comm, though he knew there would be no response. Static sounds played over as he listened, hoping for a small chance of survival. He looked away from what he was doing to look at CT-0017 briefly, tears in his eyes. CT-0017 looked down, taking a second to mourn before he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“CT-0017, come with me!” General Lyle said.

“Yes sir!” He responded, running after the Jedi.

“We are suffering major damage to the venator! We are going to have to abandon ship!”

“But sir! What about the others?”

“That’s what I need you to work on! Get the escape pods ready, and when they are, gather as many troopers as you can into them! I’m trusting you, CT-0017!”

“Sir yes sir!” He responded, immediately beginning to prepare the escape pods.

The ship shook around him again as he worked, and he tried not to think about what was going on. He could hear the squadron yelling at each other over the comms, and then it went silent.

“Attack squadron! Is anyone still out there?” General Lyle’s voice came over.

No response.

“Attack squadron! Come in!”

Again, nothing.

Their fighters were down, they had no one outside the ship to fight.

Suddenly, the ship jerked violently. CT-0017 flew forward, falling to the ground. When he pushed himself back up, the alarms were blaring around him. Red warning lights were flashing around him, and he began to panic more.

“Major damage to the bridge, general!” CT-1882’s voice yelled over the comms.

“Everyone, get to the escape pods!” General Lyle yelled.

A horrible metallic ripping sound flooded CT-0017’s ears, and he brought his hands up to try and block out the sound. The loud sounds of men shouting in his very own voice mixed in with it.

“Troopers!” General Lyle shouted. “What happened?!”

Again, there was no response to his question.

“CT-1882! Come in!” CT-0017 shouted.

“T-the bridge…” he responded, “i-it’s too damaged. Part of the ship was broken off by a blast.”

“Can you get out? Can you get to the escape pods?” Their general asked frantically.

“No, sir. We're trapped, I’m sorry.”

“No, CT-1882! You have to try! You have to get out!” CT-0017 begged.

“Sorry, vod. You’re going to have to learn to fly without me or CT-2019. Go, while you still can.”

“No! I’m coming back to help!” CT-0017 said before he began to run, only for an invisible hand to stop him. He turned and looked down the hall at his general, whose face was pained but determined.

“CT-0017, you have to get into one of those escape pods if you want to survive!”

“Sir! I will not abandon my brothers!”

“CT-1882 told you to go! Do this for him!”

“I WON’T LEAVE WITHOUT HIM!” CT-0017 shouted, tears falling from under his helmet.

The next thing he knew, the Dathomirian was rushing over to the closest escape pod and opening the door. He used the force to lift up CT-0017 and throw him inside. CT-0017 immediately jumped up and ran forwards, only for the door to shut in his face.

“NO!” He screamed, fist pounding as his general looked at him through the small glass.

“Never forget us, CT-0017,” General Lyle said before he slammed the button to release the pod.

“NO!” CT-0017 screamed again as he was launched away from the ship. He quickly moved to the controls and began to spin the pod around to look at the venator.

He fell to his knees as he watched. The massive ship before him was surrounded by smoke. Blasts from enemy ships kept raining onto it. He could see the part that had been broken off. The bridge was utterly destroyed.

“General!” He shouted into his comms. “CT-1882! Anyone!” No response came to his calls, and then it happened. The final blow came, and the venator was completely destroyed. The force of the explosion tossed his escape pod around, and when he finally steadied it, nothing but scrap metal remained at the scene. The Separatist ships had already fled the scene, and CT-0017 was alone in the endless space.

~~~

CT-0017 hated venators. He hated being on a massive shuttle, flying through endless space. They held memories of his past battalion, his general and his brothers that had all been killed.

They reminded him of General Lyle, the Dathomirian Jedi that had saved his life. They reminded him of CT-2019, and CT-1882, one the leader of an attack squadron and the other the captain of the venator. Both had promised to teach him how to fly. Both had died.

@foxlock @letsunity @radbatch @maygalodon @stereotypicalpicnicmat @oo-hazel-oo @lusiawonder @longearedowlfromouterspace @lynnpaper @just-another-dreamerr @lavenderstaars @cosmicghostie @namesmox @generaltano @mango-peachjuice sorry if I left and Lucksters out, I tried to get you all!

demolishing peoples houses to make room for an amusement park is literally movie villain shit

I cannot believe the world is letting Israel get away with this garbage