#PLEASE LET KIT BE ALL MURDER AND RAGE
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Oh... oh no
#who i am kidding i love this#but let hil smile too#kitsunami the fennec#miles tails prower#surge the tenrec#the fact that he know holds almost the same amount of hate to Tails as he had to Starline#PLEASE LET KIT BE ALL MURDER AND RAGE
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in the nightcloud summary post- "They'd barely settled in before Nightstar and Crookedstar turned on them, attacking to try and drive them out AGAIN." is this a typo, or is nightpelt in charge of shadowclan during this attack?
Not a typo and also COMPLETELY canon! That is not a BB addition, that happens in the book!
Fire and Ice, chapter 30:
"Fireheart skidded to a halt, reeling at the sight that greeted him in the camp clearing. Last time he’d been here, in search of the scent trail that would lead them to the missing Clan, the place had been deserted and silent. Now the clearing swarmed with writhing, screeching, fighting cats. Onewhisker had been right—the WindClan cats were hopelessly outnumbered. A fresh party of ShadowClan and RiverClan warriors waited at the edge of the clearing, but WindClan could spare no backup group. The whole Clan was fighting, apprentices and elders, warriors and queens."
ShadowClan and RiverClan team up after Fireheart fetches them home, to try and drive WindClan out a second time. It's explicit how horrifying this is, how the battered clan is hopelessly outnumbered, and how the invaders have a backup reserve of reinforcements while WindClan is fighting tooth and nail.
He even sees a ShadowClan tom BATTERING Morningflower, a nursing queen who's trying to defend Gorsekit.
"Fireheart heard Runningwind yowl for help. The tabby warrior was grappling desperately with Nightstar, ShadowClan’s treacherous leader. Fireheart darted through the throng to Runningwind’s side. Without pausing to think, Fireheart leaped, grabbing Nightstar from behind. The black warrior howled in rage as Fireheart pulled him backward and sank his claws deep into Nightstar’s fur. He had fought side by side with this warrior only a few moons ago to help him drive out Brokenstar. Now he sank his teeth into Nightstar’s shoulder with the same ferocity he had used against the former ShadowClan leader."
I could talk about how interesting this battle is, and all of the little interactions between various warriors (my girlie Leopardfur gets another mini bossfight <3), but the bottom line is that this moment means a lot to me. I want to FRAME it in BB.
BB!Nightstar, at the end of the day, isn't principled. He is no radical. BB!Brokenstar is infamously overhauled, and the biggest part of that is that he's a reflection of Clan Culture. He's a manifested curse, which was only broken because BLUESTAR and her new philosophy are different.
If it wasn't for her and Fire Alone, the Clans were doomed to end the way that Ripplestar had seen born on the night of his death. Self-concerned and violent, blinded by their pride, ripping each other apart and letting the others fall one by one
But Nightstar just thinks Brokenstar went too far. He has no objection to honor, or the Warrior Code, you see. Stealing kits and driving Clans out of their territories is what's unacceptable. Not keeping what you already own; and certainly not the concept of violently winning land in furious battles.
He became leader because he appeals to the two "divided halves" of the Clan. Deerfoot the Rebel is too controversial for those who enjoyed Brokenstar's methods, but old, wise Nightpelt who only retired because of asthma, he's a good compromise. At first.
Power has a mind of its own. You know what Brokenstar did? He promised these cats glory. He let them fight how they please. ShadowClan HATES WindClan, they've been fighting for generations. Appealing to those cats means letting them do whatever they want, and what they want is MURDER.
So Nightstar keeps appealing to them, alienating Deerfoot and his group, causing him to appeal even harder to ShadowClan's other half. Thus, he ends up in the same position Brokenstar was in, with Downwind's blood on his hands, only this time... Runningnose holds a grudge against the little weasel who caused the death of his beloved leader, biding his time to clear the Clan of all the traitors who stood against Brokenstar.
He tried to make allies out of cats who were ALWAYS going to hate him. Power drove him towards becoming what he had previously opposed. In the end, he paid for it.
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Can I ask how the Mapleshade situation plays out in terms of what happens to everyone involved in the afterlife in your world building
it's a real fun scenario because you can really play around with who gets sent to hell depending on how the society and afterlife views it
I will try my best, but keep in mind all I know about Mapleshade's Vengeance is second-hand because that website article that straight up told kids "not jumping into a swelling river to play lifeguard when you have no training is a hell-worthy offense" killed any desire I ever had to read the book. So if any of y'all have ideas of your own please feel free to pitch in.
ANYWAY!
Keeping with the idea of the DF cats being more embedded into the landscape, I really like the idea of Mapleshade's haunt being the river. I view her as a sort of La Llorona figure, trying to lure kits she mistakes for her own only to drown them in a fit of rage when she finds out they're not hers. I definitely think she'd be seen as the main villain of the tale for all the retaliatory murders and the fact it was her infidelity that started it all.
I think the main religious practice surrounding her would be propitiation of some sort (perhaps offering up kitten milk teeth?), although I can very easily see her being also called up for baneful craft. Bring her up for some good old fashioned retribution on that cheating bastard of a mate you have, that'll teach him! It wouldn't let her ascend, exactly, but it would help her be seen a little more positively and ensure the strength of her curse upon Appledusk's descendants.
Speaking of, while not a straight up vengeful ghost like Mapleshade I also think history will not be kind to Appledusk. It takes two to make forbidden kits, afterall. And even if he rejected them, the consequences of Mapleshade's fury still fell upon RiverClan mostly due to him. ("What do you mean it was our cruelty and xenophobia in turning her away that caused this?! It was clearly an individual issue, and the individual in question is him.")
Frecklewish I think gets a pass in popular memory because she wasn't like out of the norm xenophobic. Cruel to children, sure. But ThunderClan is more than capable of making excuses given the situation. I would think in popular memory that aspect of her would be retconned eventually, even. So over time StarClan!Frecklewish is made a much flatter model auntie type rather than a deeply prejudiced and flawed person.
Who's left? Ravenwing? Meddie pass. Other than that I think that's it for major victims? Generally I would think they get victim passes. A lot of the blame gets pinned on Mapleshade, and secondarily on Appledusk.
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Hey! Not really sure if you also write abt the angsty stuff, but if so or if you're up to it anyway, I was wondering if you'd consider writing an angst for Kit Walker inside the Briarcliff asylum please, I mean him dealing with some darker stuff in there, alongside a female reader who can be also a patient... You can go as dark as you possibly can please, that's more than okay with me...
Anyway if this is okay and you’re interested, I would truly appreciate it!!! Love your fics btw 🫶🏻
A/N: Hopefully this is angsty enough. I don't have much experience in writing things like this so I truly hope you enjoy it. My apologies for taking so long to reply btw.
Word Count: 1,035
Pairing: Kit Walker x patient!fem!Reader
Warnings: Angst, abuse, mental issues, mentions of murderous thoughts, depression
Summary: Kit has reached the point of no return and you don't know if there's any way to redeem him.
You swore that anyone who stepped foot in Briarcliff would confuse it as being hell. It was literally the worst place you could've ever found yourself in and all because you believed Kit. The days were definitely becoming more tiresome.
You'd given up on fighting your baddles. Sister Jude made sure of that. You decided that you would just have to take any torture that was given to you and finally succumb to everyone else around you. Though it was stressful and difficult, you found it to be a good technique and you acquired less scratches and bruises that way. You weren't worried about yourself at all but Kit was beginning to shift into someone unrecognizable.
His laughter and smiles dissappeared entirely. Then he began to distance himself from everyone, barely making eye contact with anyone except for a few seconds. Your conversations got scarier and you watched the man you'd fallen in love with slip away. You were currently trying to get his attention, his eyes covered in dark circles as he looked elsewhere, completely zoned out.
“Kit, baby. Please talk to me.” When he looked at you, your stomach almost dropped to the floor. All emotion in his face was gone and his body was covered in different marks due to the treatment given by the asylum.
“What do you want?” You blinked back tears before speaking. “I want Kit back, the man who loved me and proposed to me.” His face slightly softened but you could tell he still wasn’t himself. “I can’t be him for you, darling. He died as soon as I came in here.” You were practically pleading now, doing your best to give him even a sliver of hope.
“Kit, you can’t say that. You promised that we would stick together through anything and everything no matter what we’d face. You said that we would catch Bloody Face and get the hell out of here, that we would fight together. It seems that your depression has turned you into a coward, so you’re right. You're not the Kit Walker that I knew because he would be too brave to ever receive defeat yet alone claim it.”
You still didn’t receive much of a reaction from him until you did. “So I’m a fucking coward because I’m tired of enduring beating after beating? I’m a coward because I care more about the bit of sanity that I have over playing heroes and villains? I am a monster, Y/N. These thoughts that I have in my mind sometimes, I just can’t control them. If I get let out, I may just kill someone and the problem is that I’d sleep like a baby afterwards. I don’t have one bit of love in me now. All that I have is hate and rage. I’m tired and I can’t ever be what you wanted me to be, okay?”
You leaned into him and cupped his face, making him look you in your eyes. “And if I said that you being how you are now was enough, what would you do? You could never harm me. I think the asylum’s done enough of that.”
He closed his eyes before shaking his head. “No, you don’t understand the feeling. It feels so bad to just be stuck inside of your own head afraid that you’re gonna do something, to be so far gone that you know whatever horrible thing that you may do, you won’t regret it. I mean, I have these urges when I just wanna watch the life leave from someone. You think that I’m crazy, don’t you?” Tears were falling from your eyes, your voice shaky as you spoke.
“No, Kit. You’re just hurt.” “You’re afraid of me. You can barely look me in the eyes. You’re gonna get out of here without me and you’ll go off and marry some nice, sane man. You’ll forget about me and I want you to because I can’t take care of you. I can’t even take care of myself.”
“Kit–” “Please stop talking to me before I do something you may not like. Leave me.” His voice was stern and steady. You felt your heart completely crush. He snatched your engagement ring from your finger, dropping it on the ground along with his. You were beyond torn from his actions, your eyes pleading with him for something different. This wasn’t supposed to be the outcome. He was always your sweet and delightful sunshine, never afraid to fight against others.
“You are stronger than this and you can fight it.” Tears fell from his eyes as he looked at you. “I can’t even close my eyes. All that I see is pain and these urges get stronger the more that I fight against them. I can't get out of here, not when I know that I'd be sent back. I want to suffer alone in the knowledge that I am not what I used to be. I don't want you to witness what I'll become. You need to remember me as the man you first met.”
His voice cracked. The small bit of control that he had over himself was now tumbling down. He kissed you on your cheek, showing the last bit of himself that he could before he spoke to you, his voice a soft and gentle tone. “Don’t come back here ever again. Leave me, forget about me, do whatever you need to and move on. Live your life to the fullest. You can’t do that if you keep trying to visit me and see me in this state. It’s only gonna get worse. Leave before it’s too late, while there’s still time, while I still have a bit of sanity left."
You reluctantly did as he asked, watching as Sister Jude happily took him away. He didn't bother to look back at you and you felt a newfound feeling of sadness and emptiness pang inside of you. Kit was your everything. He was te epitome of love in your eyes and now he was ruined. You just hoped that you wouldn't follow the same path but then again it would be difficult considering he was your only and true love.
#ahs fandom#anon reply#american horror story#ahs fanfic#kit walker x reader#kit walker x you#kit walker#angst
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say no more bestie, I’m a professional at Brokenstar AUs
Alrighty, so. Yellowfang has her kits (they all survive) and she gets a sign from StarClan that her kits will lead to the destruction of clans. She’s like, the fuck no and takes all her kits to the twolegplace where she gets adopted by a loving twoleg couple. Yellow gets the name Marguerite, her kits become Mary(Wish), Pippy(Hope) and Mustache(Brokey). They live a relaxing life in twolegplace.
In ShadowClan however things aren’t as nice as they should be. Raggedpelt discovers that Yellowfang bailed and is pissed. He takes out all his frustration on Sagewhisker, leading to her death. ShadowClan now has no healer and has to quicktrain Runningkit to become a semi decent healer at least. This happens while Ragged still has his reign of terror being a fucking bitch to everyone.
Ragged also gets with Foxheart for no actual reason and has one child with her. that child becomes Buzzardswipe and is raised to become Raggedstar’s heir. Buzzard is a little daddy’s kid and weak-willed.
In twolegplace Marguerite and her kits live a good life, but Mustache is too much of a threat and the twolegs can’t train the destruction habits out of it, so eventually they just dump the kit off close to the barn. Mary and Pippy are PISSED about that (Marguerite too, but M&P especially). They head out to find their littermate again, but they can’t find their sibling anywhere in twolegplace. They are angry at their owners for having kicked Mustache out and want only to have their family be reunited.
Mustache is left alone near the barn and just wanders around. It gets close to the WindClan border once and meets Hawkheart and Barkface when the two are gathering herbs once. The two healers are very scared of Mustache because of its size and general vibe, but they discover that this beast is kit-aged and lost. They decide to let the kit join Windclan and name it Owlkit. Hawk and Bark have a sign that Owlkit is destined to become a healer, Hawk isn’t too pleased, but relents and Owlpaw gets to train as a healer. (the sign was an owl seemingly grabbing the moon and dropping it in front of the two healers).
Anyways, Owlpaw has a decently normal apprentice hood up until Raggedpelt gains the title of Star. This is actually a lie, Owlpaw is very naturally curious, but for the bad things and discovers multiple potent poisonous mixes by experimenting on rabbits. This had led to Hawkheart banishing Owlpaw from gathering herbs alone because something bad always ends up happening.
Hawkheart also tries to guide Owlpaw's more aggressive feelings into less destructive things, like going to beat up a bush when it is feeling particularly angry. And don't believe that Hawkheart is growing as a person while doing so, their anger management adventures are more akin to "yeah, the murder rage, we've all been there, sadly you can't kill someone because of that so go beat up that bush instead and now get the fuck out of my den"
Raggedstar is a pissy little bitch and wants to fight the other Clans because he hates them and wants to prove that ShadowClan is strong. Ragged wants to show off ShadowClan's strength and begins being way more hostile to the other Clans. This leads to many skirmishes with WindClan, so Owlpaw gets to see how full of shit ShadowClan is.
These skirmishes eventually grow into full-fledged raids on WindClan, but that happens a bit later, when Owlpaw already got its full name: Owlstrike. But yeah, the raids on WindClan are very unpleasant and Owl doesn't like them, like the rest of its clan. It does manage to scare ShadowClanners away by virtue of how scary it looks, but the raids still happen.
One particular raid ends up in the death of Hawkheart. Owl sees red because of this and swears vengeance. Its only goal in life now is to end the raids and Raggedstar for good. To do so it corners Runningnose during a halfmoon meeting to know if there would be a way to stop Raggedstar from launching all those raids. Runningnose says there aren't, so Owl sees there's one: kill Raggedstar.
Owlstrike does some snooping around in ShadowClan territory and randomly finds Raggedstar’s only child: Buzzardswipe. Owl intimidates Buzzard to know if they could convince their dad to quit doing the raids on WindClan. Buzzard pleads with Owl, saying that they can’t get close to their dad anymore because Blizzardwing, Raggedstar’s deputy, does everything to keep them away from him.
Owl now has a new plan: kill Blizzardwing to get at least one of the nuisances out of the picture. And it does just that during the next raid on WindClan. It's not hard to kill a deputy apparently. Now Buzzard got the deputy position, and a dazzling new apprentice at that! Everyone, say hello to Dawnpaw, our new and beloved little fiesty punk of an apprentice. She's stubborn and has been raised in a very "ShadowClan good the rest sucks" mentality. She has a particular dislike of WindClan and especially Owlstrike for killing her dad, Blizzardwing.
Anyways, everything is fiiiiine obviously. Owlstrike continues intimidating Buzzard into letting it know valuable information about ShadowClan and now gets to push them to get Raggedstar off WindClan's back constantly. Raids still happen, but far less often and way less violent. Dawnpaw does see that her mentor sometimes leaves camp all alone during the day while most patrols are very busy and she's stuck taking care of the elders. And she sees that they always come back even more nervous than they usually are and quickly go to see Raggedstar.
Time for a total scene change! In ThunderClan Fireheart lives his normal life. He's suspicious of Tigerclaw and goes on patrol. He doesn't have an apprentice, but he does have some fun with Graystripe and Ravenflight. Lionheart is a source of inspiration for the guy and he often goes to Spottedleaf when he gets hurt by his little shenanigans. Because yeah, Spottedleaf and Lionheart didn't die since ShadowClan didn't launch that particular raid coincidentally and Clawface had no reason to steal ThunderClan kits.
Tigerclaw doesn't like the fact that he's still not deputy and seems to never have a moment to fucking kill Lionheart in peace, so he decided it'd probably be useful to get help from another clan to get the power in ThunderClan. Tiger thus decides to pay a little visit to ShadowClan to see if they would want to help and low and behold, who does he find? Buzzardswipe, obviously! Tiger believes it's a risky bet, but tells Buzzard that ThunderClan is planning an attack on ShadowClan and tells Buzzard to inform Raggedstar. Buzzardswipe is very uncomfortable with Tigerclaw telling them these bits of information, but can't really do a lot since they are too malleable for their own good. So now Buzzard has Two dark brown tabbies with an attitude and an Agenda to deal with.
Tiger and Buzzard have one other meeting a bit later, but this one is cut short by Owlstrike showing up. Owl is very unhappy to see that its victim deputy is being victimized by another dark brown tabby and scares Tigerclaw off. Buzzard and Owl are now alone, but not for long because a patrol consisting of Raggedstar, Dawnpaw and another rando show up. Dawn had secretly followed Buzzard finally and had seen their meeting with Tiger that was then cut short by a visit from Owl, the cat she hates the most. She ran off to get Raggedstar and there they are!
Owl does manage to escape, but he gets a fatal blow on Raggedstar first, taking one of his lives for good measure. Dawnpaw follows Owl right up until the WindClan border where she yells a few insults at it. She plans to leave when a WindClan patrol sees her and goes to ask her wtf she's doing. She tells them in great detail how their beloved healer was conspiring with ShadowClan's deputy. The patrol is shocked at the news and tells it to Tallstar, who isn't happy. Tall asks Owlstrike what it has to say for its defense and Owl explains what it had been doing, but the Clan doesn't believe him. It gets exiled from WindClan pronto.
Owl is pissed at that and wants revenge, but decides to first beat up ShadowClan before going for WindClan. Owl now has a way easier time accessing Buzzardswipe for visits since it doesn't have to be ultra careful to hide its scent and bring back herbs every time it goes out to cover its tracks.
Anyways, Tigerclaw was chased off once, but that only encouraged him to go for more. He pays Raggedstar himself a visit with the declaration that he had very important information. That info being about the supposed attack ThunderClan was preparing. Raggedstar believes Tiger, but doesn't know why Tiger would be disloyal to TC. Tigerclaw answers that ThunderClan's leadership is weak and needs to be changed before he can be loyal again, subtly implying ShadowClan should kill Blue and Lion to let Tiger take over. Ragged takes the hint and prepares a raid on Thunder.
The raid happens and like planned Lionheart is killed. Tigerclaw obviously becomes deputy, but this still isn't enough for him. He goes back to Ragged to prepare the next step, but all this weird back and forth Tiger does makes Fire a bit suspicious of him, so one night he follows his deputy and sees him conversing with Raggedstar. On his way to escape before getting caught, he gets caught, but by Owlstrike. Fire would have been shitting his pants if he had any at the sight of the exiled WindClan healer.
Owl does realize that this puny orange thing is working against Tiger, so Owl makes a deal with Fireheart. Owl helps Fire take care of the Tiger problem, if Fire helps Owl finish Raggedstar and then get revenge on WindClan. Fire agrees, mostly because he has to and now the plan gets moving.
Fire learns when the next raid on ThunderClan will be because Owl still has its ways to get info out of Buzzardswipe. Fire warns ThunderClan just a bit before and the fight begins. Shit isn't too particular, but Fire does get attacked by a very cranky Dawncloud, who saw him with Owlstrike, she knows of his plans and is very dead set on killing Fireheart and then Owlstrike too. Fire does manage to shake her off with the help of a few other ThunderClanners. Then the Tiger vs Blue thing happens and like in canon Fire saves her. Tiger is banished, Fire becomes deputy without even having trained an apprentice.
Now Owl gets to claim its end of the bargain. Fire has to convince Blue to launch a revenge attack on ShadowClan. Owl also gives pointers to Fire on how to convince the bunch of rabbit feces WindClan to assist in the raid, by talking to the right cats and mentioning the right things. Now Fire has WindClan and ThunderClan (Blue wasn't going to attack, but she wasn't going to do anything tbh, so Fire just did whatever) ready to invade ShadowClan. The main plan that had been agreed on by Fire and Tall was to oust or kill Raggedstar for good. Buzzardswipe wouldn't be a good leader, but they'd be a weak leader and thus ShadowClan's problem and not WindClan's.
The attack happens as planned and Raggedstar loses a life before he and a few of his followers flee ShadowClan. Problem is, Buzzardswipe is one of them. Now ShadowClan has no leader, but good old Nightpelt steps up to get things at least moderately under control. Dawncloud isn't one of the cats that fled as she values being a part of ShadowClan too much, but she's very unhappy with Nightstar as a leader and gets the fabulous idea to spread the carrion sickness to ShadowClan to kill Nightstar. It goes a bit out of her control, but it's fine. Nightstar is dead and that's all that matters.
Now, while Dawn is doing her sickness shenanigans in ShadowClan, Raggedstar and Tigerclaw find each other in exile. They are angry at each other and want to kick each other's ass, but they get convinced to not do that by a worried Buzzardswipe who knows that Ragged is on his last life and would absolutely get beaten up by Tigerclaw. So the two cats decide to work together to get revenge on the clans. To do so though they'll need more cats. Lucky them, they heard about a group of cats in twolegplace that have some very strong members in them.
Tiger and Ragged send Buzzard to represent them when asking for help of the two leaders of that group. The two sisters aren't interested in fighting, but when they learn that Buzzard and their group were wrongfully ousted by evil cats (and the low payment of the forest lands next to twolegplace as a new territory for their group, which Ragged and Tiger did Not agree to) the sisters agree to help Buzzard and their band. They always see Buzzard as the leader of the group, much to the annoyance of the two actual brown tabby leaders.
Now the funny thing is that Nightstar's death happens a few days before Ragged, Tiger and the twolegplace group show up to beat up the Clans. They learn about ShadowClan's very weak position and decide to attack them first since it'd be an easy first thing.
So the attack happens and many cats are killed. Buzzard's group gets to lead that camp now while the (very few) surviving ShadowClanners either join Buzzard's group or flee to RiverClan mostly. Dawncloud is one of the cats that escapes. Next the group goes to eradicate WindClan for the crime of existing. This fight is even more brutal than the previous one, the amount of destruction that happens is immense and very fitting of a ShadowClan cat leading an attack on poor WindClan. The escapees all flee to ThunderClan for help. The next Clan on the chopping block is RiverClan, who literally has done nothing of importance in this AU, but still gets massacred like the other two. The poor ShadowClan sods that sought refuge in RiverClan were in for a bad time, but a few did survive and fled to ThunderClan with the RiverClan survivors.
Tiger was very happy about that next attack and led it himself. He was the first one in the camp and killed Bluestar himself. A whole lot of other cats died, but fortune seemed to be on ThunderClan side just a bit since Owlstrike was in camp at the time and it recognized the two leaders of the twolegplace group. Mary and Pippy also recognized their sibling and made their cats stop the attack. Their happy reunion wasn't long though since Dawncloud was still out for revenge (she had momentarily joined Buzzard's group for safety, but hated it). She jumped on Owlstrike's back and tried to kill it. All three siblings had to work together to get her to stop attacking, but she only really stopped when she saw Buzzard being hassled by a few clan cats. She ran to aid her old mentor and bright them to safety before trying to go back for Owl.
Owl had located Raggedstar while this was happening and decided to finish him just like he took Tallstar's last life for funnies. Owl launched itself onto Ragged, but Buzzard got in the way of the attack, taking the fatal hit and dying instantly. This made Ragged stop the attack immediately. (Tiger was also already dead, killed by good old Fireheart). He called the few cats that were still loyal to him and fled ThunderClan camp.
Dawncloud wasn't one of them and was actually even more angry at Owlstrike. She attacked him again, but this time Owl was fed up and simply killed her too. (Sorry for her ungraceful death, she was simply too powerful to be alive </3).
The surviving cats looked at the camp in abject horror and tried to think about what they'd do now. Very few cats had survived the bloodbath (about 20-25 or so) with only one leader (Fireheart) and one healer (Mudfur, who is obviously very old). The surviving cats decided to form one group together to try to survive. A few cats of the twolegplace group do decide to join the forest cats, one of them a certain Tiny, that liked the idea even as a kit. Owl, tho did Not want to stay. Nor did its sisters. They all left the clan to pick up the broken pieces of itself as they all left to live back in Twolegplace.
The prophecy though was fulfilled. The clans were no more, and that because of those three kits.
#warrior cats#brokenstar#raggedstar#warrior cats au#hopekit#wishkit#firestar#tigerclaw#tigerstar#hawkheart
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"We need more female villains in warrior cats! Ya'll coulnd't handle mapleshade and she was a rather decent villain. Most of the time people just pick two sides: everyone but maple was wrong or everyone was right and maple was wrong. When, in fact, it's a much more deep and complex situation. More like everyone was an asshole expect for like, the kits, Myler and nettlepaw (there are more but like, i don't really remember). The thing with the book is that it is not black and white, most of the characters are morally grey with light or dark tendencies, but still in a grey area. Like, I can understand where Ravenwing is coming from, he's interpreting a sign from starclan and telling his clanmates about it. Oakstar and Frecklewish are deeply wounded due to being lied to about the kit's being Birchface's. However, does that justify the treatment towards Petalkit, Larchkit and Patchkit? Of fucking course not! It's not their fault who their father is. To Mapleshade? Understanble, to literal kids? Never. So much so, that I believe that if the kits got to stay in thunderclan, with Maple being the only one exiled, she would've not turned into revenge. After all, we all know that the thing she loved the most was her kits, and them being taken away from her forcefully, with her having little to no time to properly mourn their deaths, was what led her into the path of murdering those who wronged her *and* her kits. I feel it usually falls flat on the fandom that they were what mattered the most to her, and Appledusk's open denial about the kits was another trigger for her revenge. That and, let's be honest, Appledusk was one of the biggest assholes in the entire book, not only he was cheating on Reedshine with maple (who neither of the two were aware existed), he didn't give two shits about his kit's deaths. And one more thing, people used to shit so much on Reed, when she was right?? I know we are seeing Maple's pov and she sounds like an asshole but, she's not wrong, in the end Appledusk would always stay with her whilst maple was a fling. It sucks and it's bad but she isn't wrong. That sucks for maple but yeaah. As for Maple herself, a liar, a murderer, and a blame shifter. But also a mother, one that due to grief, rage and feeling betrayal over the death of her children, went down a path she would never be forgiven for. She definetly deserved her end, don't get me wrong, She is a very unreliable narrator too, but every narration of her has some truth to it. She's also stubborn and will get what she wants under all costs. But that's what makes her a good villain. I love her slow descent into quite literal madness over the grief and pain, how she feels that each of her kits live's should be paid back with more death and grief. I fucking adore this character ya'll don't understand. But yeah she's not a 100% Sauron evil character nor an "UWU baby girl wronged by the masses". She's a villain, she fucked things up, and she was a mother who loved her kids and her kids only. We will never get a villain like her again and we should be praising this book for how good it actually is. There won't be any other tragic villain stories like this. And if we do get another female villain, let's hope it's at least a decent character and not just a more worse attempt like sleekwhisker 2.0 Please correct me if my assesments are wrong but I'm having Mapleshade feelings and how everyone does her dirty with interpretations.
nah, mapleshade's story is really good and 3-dimensional (or as 3-dimensional as warrior cats has really gotten)
almost everyone in the story does something wrong, the situation is multiple people's faults, every single character (except those you listed) made mistakes, very tragic mistakes, but also very REALISTIC mistakes
mapleshade became a villain because of her society's rules, because of a merciless leader who decided to also punish toddlers for their parents' crimes (whether oakstar was like that throughout his life or if it was out of grief for his son) and because of her own bad choices
mapleshade is (or could have been) one of the most complicated and 3-dimensional villains the series has had because most other villains are "they were just born like that" or "they were bullied" or "daddy issues" i do wanna correct one thing though, i think the implication is that appledusk cheated on mapleshade with reedshine, not cheated on reedshine with mapleshade, since reedshine had been pregnant when mapleshade and her kits were exiled (unless appledusk and reedshine had been mates before he started seeing mapleshade and they just had kits later, i dunno), but that doesn't really matter in the end, appledusk cheated and was an asshole
i think the problem is that sometimes people just don't really... think critically about what they read, or don't have reading comprehension skills, as well as possibly they haven't read the book since they were a kid who did not have reading comprehension skills and they just still go off of what they remember thinking as a kid (part of why i wanna re-read through the series now as an adult to freshen my memory as well as to see how i feel about everything that happens in the series as an adult as opposed to how i felt and what i thought reading through the books as a kid) i also think it would've benefited to have seen mapleshade before she had gotten pregnant or before she had even become mates with appledusk, because we don't really get to see who she was BEFORE all of that tragedy, before she started lying to all her clanmates, we don't get a baseline of who she was before shit hit the fan
also i wanna mention that i do love sleekwhisker and raven as female villains because i DO like them literally just being evil for fun, like they just don't care they're just assholes
but i do want more complicated villains, i want complicated villains with 3-dimensional characters and backstories, and also i would love if we had a villain like that that was female and also the backstory didn't have anything to do with them being a mother
#warrior cats#long post#like female villains but their villainy has nothing to do with their gender#also maybe a villain who becomes a villain that has to do with them being a dad#no onestar does not count with that... probably
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Dawn of Decay: Exile (Wooden Teeth origins, part 1)
“Murderer!”
“Exile him!”
“No, exile is not enough for what he’s done!”
Houndtooth flattened his ears against the onslaught of insults and comments pouring from the Clanmates surrounding him. He glared at them through slitted eyes and pupils as narrow as his sharpened claws, then directed his gaze at his leader seated on Highrock.
“Silence!” Hailstar had called. The look he gave Houndtooth blazed with rage, and when he spoke, his words dripped with barely controlled disdain. “Houndtooth, two warriors found your fur beneath Nettleseed’s claws. Do you deny that it was yours?”
“No.”
“Do you admit that you killed him?”
“Yes.”
One might think it foolish for Houndtooth to admit defeat so easily. But he knew that he was caught and done. Only a fool would keep fighting against an inevitable exile. A fool, he was not. He wasn’t going to give Thunderclan the satisfaction of seeing him nervous at that prospect either, so he faced Hailstar head on with his eyes clear and chin raised.
Clearly, that irked Hailstar. His fur bristled and his claws worked into the rock, leaving long pale marks. “Do you have any reason to give to Nettleseed’s family, or to the families of whomever else fell by your claws?–we lost an awful lot of Clanmates in recent seasons. I’m only sorry that I didn’t realize it was beyond bad luck sooner.”
Houndtooth thought about that for a moment. Oh yes, he had reasons for choosing who he did. Nettleseed was only one infection in the sickness that choked the Clan. Really, his Clanmates should be thanking him. But again, he was no fool. They would only yowl in anger, grieve, and then forget. No, he was not going to let them exile him without saying something that will haunt them until their final days.
He shrugged nonchalantly. “Maybe if Nettleseed wasn’t so weak, he would have lived. Honestly, he spent so much time struggling, and could only catch some of my fur? Not to mention the crying–Stars, what a coward he was in the end. You’re welcome for ridding you of such a kit.” Nettleseed had not actually cried, and his death was one of the quickest that Houndtooth had given. But his family didn’t need to know that.
The words struck. Fernpaw, Nettleseed’s younger brother, leapt forward. Houndtooth dodged easily, but backed into the claws of Nettleseed’s mother and aunt, and they raked him all down his side. Houndtooth hissed and turned on them, barring his teeth.
“Enough!” Hailstar called, but it wasn’t until his deputy, Flamespark, jumped down to separate them. She grabbed Houndtooth by the scruff and slammed him onto the ground. He wanted to swing at her, leave a good mark, but then he would have every cat in the clearing on top of him, and he wasn’t so keen to die just yet.
“Houndtooth,” Hailstar went on. “You are herby exiled from Thunderclan. I give my warriors permission to kill you on sight, on our territory or not–”
“So you better stay away!” Fernpaw hissed.
“Just kill him! Don’t give him the chance to come back!”
“Scared?” Houndtooth grinned.
“Leave. Now.” Hailstar barred his teeth. “The other choice is death.”
Houndtooth shrugged again, though he was boiling with fury just beneath his pelt. “I’ll go,” he agreed. “For now.”
“Go!”
Houndtooth trembled with anger so deep, he had to lock his legs to keep them from shaking–no one should think that he was afraid. Then, with one last thought, he turned around just as he was facing the entrance. “Please,” he said in a begging voice.
“No mercy will be given to a murderer!” Flamespark growled.
“Oh, no,” Houndtooth smiled. “I only thought you would want to know what Nettleseed’s last words were.” With that, he slipped through the entrance. The chorus of incandescent yowls and shouts was enough to make Houndtooth laugh.
===============
Next: https://www.tumblr.com/residents-of-the-darkforest/724022840135942144/dawn-of-decay-a-trail-wooden-teeth-origins-part?source=share
===============
@ambitiousauthor
--Fernpaw becomes Fernswirl in Gorsedaisy’s Nightmare allegiances!
#wooden teeth#wooden teeth origins#wooden teeth family#houndtooth#houndtooth story#hailstar#flamespark#nettleseed#eye-out family#wc dark tales#dark forest tales#dark tales#wc dawn of decay#wooden teeth dawn of decay
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Massive Dream SMP Fic Rec!!
Hey- Hi, I just feel like there are a ton of fanfiction that's really underrated in this fandom- so I'm going to dump it on your dash!!! Most of it is going to be Tommy-centric or SBI-centric, but they are very good!
Source: Me
Finished Fanfics:
Multi-chaptered Fanfics:
that's, like, a hundred miles by No_one_you_know
Dream would kill him. Dream was going to kill him- he was going to- no, he wouldn’t. Dream was his friend- friends don’t hit each other- Dream was supposed to take care of him- Dream /was/ taking care of him.
It hurt to breathe. It hurt to think. He couldn’t clear his thoughts as he stumbled to the family computer, pulling up a tab on google and frantically typing the name into the search bar.
The words Technoblade Watson stared back at him, the little black bar at the end of the letters blinking slowly, mocking him.
Why, of all people, did it have to be Technoblade?
in short: the one where dream sucks as a parental figure, tommy runs away, and visits his least favorite family member technoblade
Hard-hitting, but has a happy ending, though I recommend reading the prequel (in the same series) first, otherwise, it's lowkey depressing.
MORE RECOMMENDATIONS BELOW THE CUT!!
you’ll rise above (crowned by an overture bold and beyond) by azvremoon
Tommy is not sixteen. He has faced too many open wounds, dripping ichor onto blood-stained warzones, to be just a child. He is Blood and War and needless Death, an all-in-one special of everything that can ruin reality.
(Tommy is the blood god. No one should know, but this server can't stop pushing him over the edge.)
+2 more Works that were Inspired by this one
Tommy is a BAMF and Dream, Technblade, and Phil get fucked it is what it is.
Responsible Forever by SilverWing15
“You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed.” /////
“So,” Techoblade says, slow and deliberate, his face shows clearly just how unbelievable he finds all of this, “you saw a boy last night, in the middle of the night, living with raccoons and eating our garbage?”
“I know how insane it sounds,” Phil says, “but I know what I saw. We need to help him, who knows how long he’s been out here?”
“Okay,” Wilbur interrupts, “let’s say that raccoon-boy is real. What is it you want us to do? We can’t go searching the woods for specific bunch of raccoons, I don’t know if you’ve noticed Phil but there are a lot of them out there.”
“Going out and hunting him isn’t going to get us anywhere,” Techno says, “we have to let the raccoon-boy come to us. He’s already come once, you know how tenacious raccoons are. If they came to the garbage pit once, they’ll come again. We just have to set a trap.”
“Those raccoons aren’t gonna know what fucking hit them,” Wilbur mutters.
Or: RaccoonInnit taken well beyond its logical conclusion
Tommyinnit is a Raccoon boi that lives with other Raccoons
Protecting the Traumatised Youth by spookyserpent
Sam blinks. “What?”
Even behind the mask, Sam has the distinct impression that Dream is grinning at him. “A week and he was begging for my attention, even after I stole and burnt his armour, even after the beatings. He couldn’t stand me leaving him because I was the only one to show up, to pay him attention. It was hilarious.”
Sam is going to be sick.
Or, Sam decides to ask Dream about his intentions and ends up becoming a big brother to Tommy and Tubbo. All the while, Dream and George fight, Niki and Jack plan child murder and Ranboo is slowly getting adopted into the SBI.
Awesamdad written back when it was possible... ahhh
Chaos In a Bottle by Lovetribable
After a realization, Tommy leaves the pillar, but instead of going to Techno. He just disappears, leaving everyone to think he's gone.
It takes a war to bring him back.
+2 Sequels and an Alternative Ending
Dadinnit!! + A Sympathetic Dream
Absolutely Anything For Them by Numanum
“There’s a lot you don’t understand, Tubbo,” Dream sighs, meeting his eyes cooly. Tubbo, back against a tree, shudders at his tone, at the look on his face.
The sword at his neck skims across his skin as Dream shifts his grip on it, and he flinches back into the rough bark behind him. Dream smiles at his reaction, seeming pleased- like the cat that’s been toying with a mouse that always tries to run no matter how many times it’s caught. And, despite this being his first encounter alone with the man, he thinks that the comparison is fairly accurate; Tubbo has never felt smaller than he does now. There’s supposed to be a buddy system to prevent things like this- he shouldn’t be alone here, stuck in this situation.
Or: Tubbo becomes a traitor to save everyone and has to struggle with his choices
Traitor Tubbo, but it has the happiest ending possible since it follows the rest of the story.
Where Did You Come From, Kit? by KadeAK (zacixn)
Hybrids are an ancient species of humans crossed with animals, blessed with the favour of nature. They used to live in peace on the SMP’s land, but ever since the dawn of humanity’s modern culture, they have become ostracised and hunted by their once-brethren. Now, the once-thriving subspecies of hybrids have been reduced to ashes, the majority of their peoples struggling to survive in a city capital that can't stand their presence.
To the members of L’Manburg, General Wilbur Soot is just another mildly prejudiced human being, stuck with a hybrid fox kit for an adopted child. However, that assumption could not be farther from the truth. As it turns out, there's a reason why he is the man he is today.
This fic is entirely pre-L’Manburg.
Part of a series, very good.
Take It Easy by sweet_magnolias
Five times Techno scared Michael, one time Michael scared him, and the resolution of those fears.
AKA - Techno learns how to be an uncle.
Technoblade's POV, so expect some Tubbo bashing on the margins of all that Michael fluff.
I suppose it’s never my time to die, is it? by Birb_Whale
The first time it happens, he barely remembers. The second time is when he realized. The third... Twice is a coincidence, three times is a pattern
“It’s not your time to die yet, Tommy”
Messed up, but not unrealistic. Purely for the Hurt/Comfort lovers.
This Wasn't Planned, But It'll Work Out by Anonymous
Dream isn't sure what to think when he finds a kid on his doorstep, but he can't just leave him there, now can he?
(He doesn't know what he's getting into, or what he's gotten the kid into, either)
Long, and angsty, with a bittersweet ending Imo.
let's play a game by Aria_Cinabun
Tommy was once a slave. That's gone now - shoved in his past with the memories of blood and gore and death. He wants to forget who he was; what he has to do to survive. Of course, the Elementalists will always come back to haunt him. They aren't the ones who killed his mother, but they're close enough. And now he and his brother have been dragged into the mess, as Elementalists with their own, separate covens, to find the Pit - the place where he'd lived and killed and hurt for the first twelve years of his life. His coven can't know. Can't know who he really is, what he can really do. Can't know anything about his past. He doesn't want a coven full of Elementalists who don't trust him; one of whom he's pretty sure despises him. He doesn't want that life. He wants the life of a pickpocket, on the streets, because nobody questions street kids, and nobody comes asking about his past and pushes him to tell his secrets that he holds closest inside. Tubbo tries to tell him to trust people. But trust is how you die.
Good fantasy AU, has SBI, and is thus fluffy.
Turn of the Tide by SilverWing15
Tommy’s fins twitch at the mention of Dream’s ancestors. Dream talks about them a lot, how they made their fortune hunting down mer pods, how they were cruel and greedy. Nothing like Dream is. They’ve both overcome their roots he says.
Tommy is nothing like the wild mer out in the ocean, who spend their lives scraping by just to survive, who kicked him out of the pod when he was a baby because he was too small. He’s also better than the pit mer, who can’t overcome their wild instincts and know nothing but fighting.
He’s different from them, he’s better than them. He’s Dream’s. //// OR: Change is like the tide, when it comes, you can only sink or swim. You would think that a mer would be better at keeping afloat.
Mermaid AU Pooog. Part of a series.
One-Shots:
Snapped by AmberRunnel
“You don’t know what I went through in that prison cell.”
Jack burst out laughing, blinded with rage and the overwhelming urge to hurt Tommy, to give him everything he deserved. “Oh, is the poor child traumatized? You want pity now?” He twisted his blade, and Tommy’s axe was sent clattering to the ground.
“If the prison was so awful, why don’t I send you back there?”
-|-
Jack doesn't handle Tommy's revival well. There's a simple solution, though. Kill Tommy, and Dream revives him right back into that cell. Problem solved, kid dealt with.
It takes a few confrontations for Jack to realize he's an asshole.
It's fucked up, but god does it hurt in a good way.
the sky is coming down blue by salinesolution
An imagining of New Milo's perspective throughout the Skyblock Randomizer adventure. What did he think of the world he found himself in, and how did Wilbur's feelings and actions change things for him? Here's my way of answering those questions.
He made the fish think, funniest shit I've seen.
You told me to be a hero (so let me die like one) by spiromachia
"You told me to die like a hero," the blond interrupted, spinning on his heel to face the others, holding his arms wide open, "So why not fulfil the ending that was always meant to be."
Across the battle field, through the chaos and destruction, a tree burned.
Even the sound of explosions and cries and bloodshed felt distant enough for the world to become silent for a few moments, each individual slowly coming to the same conclusion, each of their bodies tensing.
Tommy's face broke out into a grin as he lowered his head, glowering at the people around him, and Philza's face flashed with recognition.
"Kill me."
Or... In the middle of Doomsday, Tommy decides to ask Technoblade to be the Lycomedes to his Theseus.
Heavy and dark, but at least Dream gets it.
tomorrow night by meridies
Tommy is desperately searching for his missing brother. Techno is the reluctant psychic who unfortunately got dragged along.
or, two people, more alike than different, learn what it is to have a family at their side.
It's cute what can I say :]
maple syrup by itisjosh
"We could run," Tubbo stares at the sun. "We've got everything we've ever wanted right here. We could run."
"Yeah," Tommy agrees, feeling his head swim. "We could."
(or, tommy and tubbo run away together)
Children get away from toxic adults :)
Why’d it have to be so sunny? (The sun shouldn’t shine without you.) by AToZRainToBe
‘A realisation hits Phil in the face like a truck. “Wi- Ghostbur,” Phil says, turning to his grey-scale, translucent, actually-dead son. “You definitely told Tubbo that Tommy’s alive, right?”’
To get away from Dream, Tommy agrees to fake his death, going with the cover story that he jumped from the pillar in Logstedshire. Unfortunately, someone forgot to tell Tubbo.
Misunderstandings are one of my favorite tropes.
sugar and ice by princedemeter for Aenqa
“He is my son,” Philza says. “Mortal or not, I would see him grow strong.”
Technoblade looks down on earth, at the tiny, angry bundle of cloth and pinking, wrinkled skin. This mortal child, he thinks, lungs filled with breath from the king of gods himself, will not grow strong.
It's mostly centered around Technoblade and Wilbur with Phil being a shitty dad. Pog Gods AU.
a matter of time by meridies
Tommy is twelve years old when his wings first appear, and he is twelve years old when Phil tells him, "All it takes is time and patience, Tommy, and soon you'll be flying even better than me."
or, Tommy grows up feeling like a failure, and it takes him a while to figure out where he's happiest.
Tommy is just finding his place in the world. Powers AU.
That Time a Baby Decided to Raise a Baby by Scitrust
Tubbo wasn't good at making excuses, so when Schlatt asked him why he was leaving in the night, he made something up on the spot. That had been months ago.
At least he sort of had an alibi for that, now.
Or, in which Tubbo finds a baby in the woods on his way to see Tommy, and promptly adopts it.
Part of a collection!! Read it all.
spider lily by blue000jay
Wilbur has a body.
The freckle on the base of his left pinky finger (shared with Techno). The scar on his chin from when he was twelve and over ambitious, diving into too-shallow water. The scar on his throat from the final control room, and the puckered skin on his shoulder from the poisoned arrow that killed him next. Various other nicks and things that litter his skin from years of rebellion and living wild, a kid thrown into a vicious world with too little self-preservation.
(Resurrection AU, for when/if Wilbur comes back.)
The author knows how it's like to live with chronic pain, and it shows :(
Hands tied loose by rabiddog
"Let's run away, Tubbo." Tommy breathed; a wide grin split across his face as his hope grew. "Let's get out of here – far away. We can go anywhere, can't we? Let's just go, you and me right here, right now."
-
Tommy needs to leave. He has to get out of L'Manburg, he has to leave the Dream SMP for his own sanity, and he wants Tubbo to come with him.
But Tubbo has a family now, a better life - something that he can't give up... not even for his best friend.
Unhappy ending :(
The serpent underneath by rabiddog
Tommy and Techno sit at the memory-filled bench and talk. Technoblade reminisces, he talks, he admits his pent-up feelings, he cries. And Tommy? Tommy listens. (That's all he can do.)
-
“I’m sorry for everything, you know? For all of it. I’m so sorry about... about the first war, about the withers and the fighting, about...” Technoblade's fingers began to curl around Tommy’s blonde locks. “About Wilbur and everything after. I'm so, so sorry.”
:((((((((
Damning choices by rabiddog
Ranboo would have never expected to find himself in a horrifying situation such as that one - quite literally sandwiched between a rock and a hard place, with three lives dangling over his head and the answer on the tip of his tongue.
Tubbo, Michael, Tommy.
It's his choice. He chooses who lives, and who dies. His new family, or his first friend. But Ranboo... Ranboo already knows.
-
"Ranboo," He hissed out, voice cracking and somewhat staticky, "It's not your fault. It's not. You had no other choice; I know that, okay? I- I know that- I know- I know..."
:(((((((((((((((((((((((((((
Jealousy is a disease by rabiddog
Tommyinnit isn't new to the idea of jealousy. He understands it completely. He understands the way it runs rampage through his body each time he catches even a glimpse of Tubbo and Ranboo's new relationship, he understands that the emotion makes his heart clench uncomfortably from time to time. He sees it, feels it, and yet he doesn't care.
He doesn't care at all.
-
"You took Tubbo away from me. You took him away. You took my best friend, and now he's- now he's not my best friend anymore, and I-!"
:)
Word of Honour by rabiddog
Tommy could only stand and stare as Technoblade agreed to hand him over to Dream - as his brother traded him off like he was nothing. Like Tommy wasn't important.
-
Technoblade was a man of honour. He was a man of pride and sticking to his word. He knew that he owed Dream a favour, and no matter what that favour might be, he'd be compliant with it. Nothing would change his mind. (Not even Tommy.)
Almost canon. F.
Sweet Repentance by rabiddog
Perhaps Tommy should have told Phil about his arguably life-threatening injury the minute his father had opened the door. But of course, Tommy being Tommy, did not.
Dying seemed like a nice enough option as long as he was with his family.
-
Tommy just wanted acceptance, forgiveness, and peace. He wanted to close his eyes for the last time and finally be able to let go.
Tommy dies painfully.
A White Tulip by astervoid
He picked the white tulip from the bottom of the stem, standing up carefully as he held it pinched between his fingers. It would die now, inevitably, but Tommy relented and held the flower to his chest. What a silly, stupid thing to ground him. He almost hated that it made his breaths come easier and his steps feel lighter. Almost.
Tommy & Ranbooo chill on the bench.
lying to the authorities (again) by touchgrass
"Please tell me that my right-hand-man, my soon-to-be vice president, one of the people I trust the most on this godforsaken server, did not lie straight to my face and tell me he was twenty-fucking-years-old.”
Tommy opened his mouth to protest, but then closes it shut at the furious look on Wilbur's face. Oops.
~
It is the day of the elections and Wilbur Soot could not have chosen a worser time to realize that half his staff is underage.
The ONLY fic with this premise I've seen on Ao3.
Dear Theseus by rabiddog
Tommy had thought that they'd won - thought that they'd finally beaten Dream, and that everything would be okay. As it turns out, however, apparently Dream had called in that favour from Technoblade after all.
-
“Please,” Tommy whispered after a beat, quivering hands edged upwards to hesitantly press against the tip of the sword striking through his chest. Why, why, why? Why him? Why now?
Tommy almost wins.
A Shifting World by AplusIsRoman
How was Wilbur supposed to know it would end like this?
The smoke hung in the air and soot clung to his skin. His brother - adopted, but older by two minutes - stood back-to-back with him. The chilling cries of people and the calls of the withers rang through the air above the chasm that was once his home.
This wasn’t supposed to happen.
How could he have known this would happen?
-
Sequel to A Child's World
Age-swap AU. Has a prequel.
heart of the sea by RyDyKG
Here is the secret that he barely thinks about, a secret that he shoves deep and far down in himself:
Wilbur Soot is a siren, and he’s not exactly proud of that fact.
Wilbur-centric. Urban Fantasy AU.
He knows, ok? by Ralli
By some means, Techno has given his raccoon younger brother some cotton candy. It doesn’t end as well as either of them would like.
Very, very cute :)
that's it, it's split (it won't recover) by Jk_Kat
Tommy has always been the fighter.
He has never been the fought for, and he knows it, with every whisper Tubbo directs at Ranboo, with every glance thrown his way- Tommy knows, the way he wishes he didn't, that they think he's dead.
If they're so convinced he's still dead, maybe the one good thing left he can do for them is die.
---
Or, Tommy gets addicted to being dead and thinks that nobody cares about him. The people who very much do try to pull him back from the brink before Dream can't resurrect him anymore.
Messed up, but with a happy ending.
Hugs 'n PTSD by rabiddog
Ranboo knew from the start that the recovery process would be hard - that moving on from quite literally being beat to death would be something hugely difficult to step away from, and that's if Tommy could even manage it at all.
He knew that it would be stressful and arduous, demanding and tough... he just hadn't expected to be holding Tommy through a PTSD-induced panic attack only days after his release from Pandora's Vault.
-
Ranboo isn't typically an overbearingly protective person. But for Tommy? He just might be.
I love this author if you can't tell.
Big Men don't cry by Shiny22Snivy
The room is small and warm, almost stifling compared to the cool openness of the ravine. It’s cosy and candlelit, and a chest sits open in the corner, full of what looks to be burnt rags of a former smart suit. And sitting in rumpled blankets on a bed, cradling a mug of something steaming, sits Tubbo.
At first, Tommy forgets all about Niki’s vague warning. He’s just so happy to see his best friend again, alive and well and all in one piece. Tubbo’s okay. Tubbo’s okay, and in front of him, and suddenly everything bad in the world is gone, if only for just a moment.
“Tommy?”
And then Tubbo turns to look at him.
Clingyduo fluff.
sins of the father (i broke all my bones that day i found you) by ryter
The thing that hurt Wilbur most was when he saw Fundy tear down the walls of L'Manburg. After all, those walls had gone up to protect his son. But in this world, Fundy trusts his father just a little bit more, and it ruins him.
Or: there's only one way Wilbur never becomes the villain. It's unclear whether this was the better path.
SOME VIOLENCE WARNINGS/BLOOD MENTION. CHARACTER DEATH. SO MUCH ANGST.
Sad, but cathartic.
REVIVED TOMMY HEADCANNONS AHAHAHAHA by racooninnit
i’m dropping ALL the fucking revived tommy headcannons on you guys today get ready for some ANGST
this is different from what i usually post but it was fun
i don’t think there’s a lot i need to put warnings for, obviously there are mentions of the way tommy died and the aftermath of that (i.e. injuries and trauma), but if there’s anything that needs a warning please tell me!
What it says on the tin- not really a fic.
Unfinished Stories:
Ongoing (Less than a month since the last update):
Over the River Styx by CorpseArt
I feel like we should name him.
There’s a scuffle at the back of his mind as he rolls up, curling tight with a shiver despite the heat of the flames licking up his back.
I mean, he’s like – us, but like a worse version clearly because oh man, this is just weirdness. There’s a flare of a tangle of emotions, complicated and fearful, resentful and livid with anger. I can’t believe this is what I’ve been reduced to, stuck in the mind of this- this child.
He’s like your age, Tommy. Are you calling yourself a child?
I mean, I am one so fucking duh. Child murderer.
-
Or: trauma bonding in the most unconventional of senses.
Just- Read it. Show the writer your support, it's unique, it's amazing and there needs to be more of it.
If history is dead and gone by iregretallmydecisions
“Don’t come any fucking closer,” Tommy shouted, startling Phil into stepping back. Tommy was still looking around wildly, like a trapped animal “Don’t fucking do it.” ---- In which Tommy finds himself faced with his splintered family, while it was still mostly whole. The past is not an easy place to be when the future was not kind. His family is forced to deal with the fall out.
It's better than Rewind, but you didn't hear that from me.
Wilbur Soot's Redemption (OR Ghostbur's Retry) by luckykitty0523
Wilbur had many regrets in his life, being lost in his madness and the urge for revenge drowned leaving a shell of who he once was. It was only in his dying moments that he regained himself but it was already too late for him leaving him drowning in wishes and regrets. However waking up in another different universe where wilbur was never born and family soulmates exist, so when wilbur said he wanted to fix the mistakes he never expected this turn of events.
OR
In one world wilbur dies and he would return as a ghost missing his memory and trying to fix what he did in life but in this one wilbur dies and wakes up in another world where soulmates exist and the wilbur of that world was never born so wilbur/ghostbur takes his place and tries to make up his mistakes to the other version of his friends.
Wilbur adopts SBI + Fundy + Dream.
A Talk Long Overdue by penink
Tommy has his first therapy session with Puffy.
Tommy gets therapy.
Into the Night by Interjection
“Don’t touch me,” Tommy hisses, leaning against the railing. “I will - I will-”
They’re a hundred stories up. Wind lashes against Phil’s face. Next to him, Sam makes choked noise.
“But why?”
Tommy looks up to meet Phil’s eyes, terror struck so deep in those pale blue irises Phil thinks they must hold all the world’s fears within them.
“You’ll die,” he whispers. “And then I’ll die. But I’ll come back.”
“And I don’t want to come back.”
Others have the freedom to live. Tommy doesn’t even have the freedom to die.
But maybe they can teach him that living doesn’t have to be so bad.
---
(Superpowers AU where whenever someone touches Tommy, they both die. But Tommy will always come back to life eventually. He just wants it to end - but instead, he’s on the run, terrified of how his power will be exploited if he’s caught.
A few people reluctantly team up to save him.)
Funky SBI dynamics + a Sam that cares. Also a lot of angst.
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A Series of Break Ins
bucky x black female reader
Summary: Someone breaks into your apartment
Warnings: break ins, lil bit of violence, wounds + blood
Words: 1617
A/N: Inspiration from @write-it-motherfuckers ( prompt is in bold somewhere below) :) some wonderful stuff on that blog
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January.
You lived in an old building in a shitty part of town. The loft kind that was once an office or a factory or something. Lots of windows. Terrible heat bill in the winter. You heard gunshots and fighting frequently. It wasn’t your dream home. No, your windows faced a manufacturing building with no windows. From your fire escape, if you stretched really far, you could cross the alley and touch the building. You only did that once though because the fire escape was rickety and not very safe.
That particular night, you were coming home from a mediocre date with a guy named Marcus. Usually you’d take a cab home, but your budget was tight this month. So you weaved through the alleys, the cold and the dark making you more jumpy than usual. You just wanna be home, with your warm fuzzy socks on and a glass of wine.
Your anxiety settles once you make it into your building. You take the steps two a time to your third floor studio. You open your door, shutting it quickly and leaning back against it.
That’s when the hairs on your arm stand up. Your eyes shoot open and your breath catches. Your kitchen light is on. You know it was not on when you left earlier. In your kitchen sits your first aid kit dumped out on the table.
You grab the baseball bat you keep next to the door and check every crevice of your home. Nothing.
You return to the kitchen, hesitantly. Next to the first aid kit is a napkin with a note: Sorry for the intrusion. I’ll replace everything I used. Thanks. - BB
You just looked at the note and blinked. Who the fuck had been in your apartment?!
The next day there’s a package outside your door containing the promised replacements from the stranger. There’s another note: Sorry again. -BB
You’re not quite sure what to do. Call the police? And say what- someone broke in, left no trace and then replaced what they stole? They would think you’re crazy.
February.
After the break in you upped your security. You got a deadbolt, a door chain, and a magnetic sensor on your front door that rang and alerted your phone when set off.
You felt pretty good about your upgrade… until it happened again. You’d come home late from drinks with a friend unlocked the door, then the deadbolt.
The light in your kitchen was on again. You grabbed your bat immediately, ready to swing on whoever was dumb enought to break into your house yet again.
“Whoa, whoa ma’am. Please don’t--” but you did. Whack him that is. Three times. And then a black gloved hand stopped your swings dead and blue eyes lock with yours.
“Holy fucking shit. B. B! It was you. Fucking Bucky Barnes broke into my house!”
He nods and watches your face as it goes from rage to confusion and then back to rage. You let go of the bat and he puts it behind him. “Look, I am really sorry. I know this is probably terrifying--”
“Yeah ‘cause I thought you were a god damn serial killer--not an Avenger!” You plop down onto a kitchen chair.
Bucky stared at you amused. “This is not how I thought this would go…”
“Don’t you have some Avenger place you can go and get fixed up? Instead of breaking into civilian households?” you sigh irritatedly.
“No. For one I’m not an Avenger…. And uh, two… I got hurt doing something not necessarily sanctioned by the government.” Bucky looked up at the ceiling bashfully.
“My god, you’re doing vigilante shit,” you breathed out a laugh.
Bucky shrugged, “You could call it that.” He wrung his gloved hands together. “I should go… I’ll send you replacements for the stuff I used. ”
“Or you could just not break into my house.” Bucky chuckled, before climbing out the window. “You could use the door!’
The man has the audacity to laugh as he closes your window, “Thanks again, doll.”
You let out a groan, wondering why on earth he chose your apartment and why on earth you weren’t more pissed off about it.
March
You’re dead asleep when you hear a thud on the fire escape outside your window. Your heart thuds like a bass drum as scenarios of you being murdered flash through your head. A stabbing. A shooting. God, please not a strangling. Then there’s a persistent tapping. You pretend to still be asleep, holding your breath and not moving.
“I know you're awake. I need to .. uh utilize your first aid kit again. Please, doll.”
Relief hits you like a wave and you flick the light on and get out of bed. You open the window and Sergeant Barnes slips through the space, holding his flesh arm, but not really effectively stopping the blood.
The two of you stand there for a second, until you remember that you don’t sleep with pants on and awkwardly move around him to find a pair of shorts. You find him sitting at your kitchen table again, waiting for you to get the first aid kit, like he doesn’t have a goddamn metal arm on him.
“For fuck’s sake…” You pull it out from under the sink and set it in front of him with a thud. Bucky smirks sheepishly. “Did you get shot again?” you ask after a while. He nods once as he gets to work. “Aren’t you like... super?” He nods. “Won't it heal super fast?” He nodded once again. “So what’s the point of the first aid kit?”
“You ask a lot of questions,” he sighs irritatedly.
You narrow your eyes, “Oh dear, am I inconveniencing you?”
He stops and looks up at you through his dark lashes. “Sorry. I’m being rude. What's your name anyway?”
You roll your eyes, but you tell him.
He cleans after himself and then stands. “Thank you again. Y/n.”
You ignore the lil shiver you get when he says your name, “Is this gonna be a regular thing Sargeant?”
Bucky flashed you a charming smile, “Do you want it to be, doll?”
You cross your arms and set you glare, “You have five seconds before I get my bat.”
Bucky let out a very boyish laugh before dramatically making his exit via the window again.
Over the next few days, you consider getting locks for the windows, but for some reason you just don’t.
Two weeks later, you open your door, arms full of groceries, and find Bucky sitting on the floor of your kitchen once more, first aid kit open in front of him. You’re not even surprised really.
“Ah, Hello again. We really need to stop meeting like this.”
You scoff, “Maybe we would, if you would sTOP BREAKING INTO MY FUCKING HOUSE!!” You toss your purse on the couch.
Bucky laughs and the winces and groans. It’s then that you realize he’s very pale in the face and his flesh hand isn’t gloved it’s just dark with blood.
You drop the groceries roughly on the table, “Shit Bucky. Are you-- You’re bleeding a lot!”
“I’m fine, doll.”
“I don’t think you are….” You panic, reaching for your phone, but remembering it’s deep in your purse across the room.
“You gotta-- you’re gonna have to sew it up, okay?”
“Let me just call an ambulance,” you get up to get your phone, but he grabs your wrist firmly.
“No. You can do this Y/n. I’ll walk you through it.” Something in his blue eyes assures you. You nod and Bucky has you cut his shirt off before he leads you through the cleaning of his wound. Your face felt hot at the sight of his beautiful broad chest, despite the mess around you. Bucky guided you, wincing and jaw ticking as you closed up his wound. By the end, your hands are red and sticky and you’re quite nauseous, but you didn’t care. The color was already back in his face and the sparkle back in his blue eyes. “You did good, doll.”
“I can’t believe I did that,” you say breathily. Bucky smiled fondly at you. You get up, wash your hands thoroughly and gently help Bucky up and to your couch. “You want something to eat? Let me get you some water.” You don’t wait for an answer before going to the kitchen. You bring him a bottle of water, a beer, and left over orange chicken from last night’s dinner- he inhaled all three while you cleaned and sanitized your kitchen floor.
“I should head out,” he stood up stiffly, favoring his wounded side. “I’m sorry about all this…” he gestured towards his wound and then to your kitchen. “It won't happen again. I’ll get my own first aid kit.”
You shrug, “You basically bought mine with as much as you use it.” You stick your hand out. “Phone.” Bucky eyes you warily before obeying. “How about next time you need to use my first aid kit, you just call first?”
Bucky smiles a lopsided, goofy smile, as you put your number in. “I think I can do that.”
Three days later, Bucky calls you around 7pm. Thirty minutes later there’s a knock at your door - not your window.
“What’s bleeding now--”
Instead of beat up and bleeding, Bucky stands before you in a black button up with a bouquet of flowers and a bag of take out. “Hey doll. I wanted to really apologize for everything and try to make it up to you,” he gives you a sheepish grin.
You can’t contain your own smile. “Well, orange chicken and flowers are a good start. Come in.”
----
Everything Tag List
@thefridgeismybestie
@basically-introverted
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes x you#james buchanan barnes#bucky x black!reader#bucky x poc!reader#mcu fanfiction#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes fluff#bucky#bucky drabble
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kit fisto carpet artisan
thank you for reminding me.
So, the important part of the Kit Fisto carpet artisan au is that he leaves the Order to make carpets. The going theory among the jedi is that he had an uncle on Coruscant that left him a carpet shop and he decided to stop being a Jedi to carry on the dying trade, but no one knows but him, and he’s not telling. He also takes Nahdar, his padawan, with him. If Nahdar knows why Kit left, he’s not telling anyone either.
So by the time Anakin is sixteen or so, Kit Fisto, ex-jedi and carpet maker extraordinaire, has a bustling business just outside the senate district— close enough for any of the Jedi to visit. And oh boy do they visit.
Typically, when someone leaves the Order, it’s something only spoken about in hushed tones. There’s no gossip, nor speculation, because Jedi don’t gossip, and besides, they usually already have the reason— while no one is obligated to give a reason for leaving, it’s considered polite to do so. It’s not... dishonorable to leave, but a certain distance inevitably develops. Once someone leaves the jedi, they’re leading a completely different life, and most leave Coruscant entirely.
Kit Fisto is not typical. There’s no warning— not a single inkling that he might be considering leaving the Jedi. One day, he walks into a High Council meeting, declares politely that he’s leaving and taking Nahdar with him, and tells them all they’re welcome to visit him at his new address. (He also makes a point of leaving several of his belongings in his apartment, to give the more decorous members of the Order an excuse to visit.)
Come Monday, Yoda is on his doorstep, probing for answers. Kit does not give them, but he does give Yoda a tour and some tea. When Yoda comes back, cackling and pleased, everyone else takes this as the go-ahead to visit. The jedi visit regularly— only when he’s closed, and only when he has time, but they do come.
This is where the fun begins.
Anakin Skywalker, seventeen years old, very moody and very angry, has an appointment with Palpatine. Anakin Skywalker, seventeen years old, very moody and very angry, has been banned by Obi-Wan from using any speeders, bikes or otherwise, by an exhausted Obi-Wan. (Nominally, it’s because he started a fight in the salles two days ago, but if it keeps him from seeing Palpatine, then so much the better.) (Anakin knows what Obi-Wan is doing, and is furious about it. While perhaps justified, this does not help his case.) So what does Anakin do? He makes his own speeder from old parts. (If he’d thought to call Palpatine, the man would have sent a car for him, but since last time that happened he got a two lecture from both Windu and Obi-Wan, so he’ll just have to be sneaky.)
The problem with speeders cobbled together from old parts is that they have a tendency to break down, usually at the most inopportune moments. For Anakin, this is on the edge of the Senate district, since he was taking a circuitous route to see Palpatine in the hopes of avoiding anyone else he knows. Fortunately, Kit’s shop is nearby, and he’s been with Obi-Wan enough times to know the way.
Anakin walks into Kit’s Artisan Carpets, sopping wet from the rain that just started and looking like nothing so much as a wet kitten. Kit, who has all the grace and wisdom of a jedi master, does not tell him this, and instead offers him a towel and the use of his speeder when Nahdar gets back. In the meantime, he offers, would Anakin like to come see his workshop?
Now, keeping in mind that I know nothing about carpet making, and even less about artisan carpet making, I’m going to say that Kit shows Anakin how to do something simple that’s carpet related. And Anakin likes it. Anakin really likes it. He already loves working with his hands, but this is different. There’s no thinking involved, nothing but the repetitive movement of his hands. Normally, he hates being quiet, being still, but he’s so cold and tired that he’s able to just... drop into a trance. Before he knows it, it’s three hours later and he’s missed the meeting with Palpatine entirely.
Kit sends him back to the Jedi Temple more relaxed than he’s ever been, finally having been able to achieve a meditative state, and with an invitation to come back and help again whenever he’s nearby. When he gets back, Obi-Wan is amazed at how calm Anakin is, and forgets to lecture him on leaving the temple. Anakin does his homework, goes to bed, and when he wakes up, he doesn’t feel so awful.
The next time he comes back from Palpatine’s, riled up and wanting to scream, he stops by Kit’s shop and helps out with some repetitive carpet-related task. The dull motion helps lets his mind wander, but not too far— lets him be still without his brain beginning to scream. For the first time, Anakin is able to meditate without trauma flashbacks or overwhelming, near-painful understimulation.
Once again, he comes back to the Temple calm and slightly better balanced, once again, Obi-Wan doesn’t lecture him. The pattern continues.
Cut to two years later, when Anakin is having nightmares about his mother. Helping out in Kit’s shop lets him meditate on the visions, and Kit has been, well, really great to talk to about attachment. Palpatine is nice and all, but he doesn’t really get the Jedi— has never understood Anakin’s desire to be one. Kit, who knows what is like and is still more Jedi than most Jedi, in Anakin’s private opinion, does.
Kit talks him through visions, helps him articulate his fears, and sends him to communicate with Obi-Wan. When Anakin says that he’s having visions— not just dreams, but solid visions— Obi-Wan promptly requests a sabbatical, and they go to Tatooine.
Obi-Wan helps him rescue Shmi from the Tuskens, and since Shmi is still alive, Anakin has something to focus on instead of his own rage. No Tuskens get murdered— hell, Anakin is so worried about his mom it doesn’t even occur to him to go kill them until after she’s safe. By that point, he’s not in the thick of the moment, so he has time to imagine slaughtering every single one of them before he does it. He thinks of how good it would feel, yes, but also of the screams, of the feeling of their dying minds against his own, and recoils.
When they get back to Coruscant, new fence installed and comm numbers exchanged, Palpatine’s plan is ruined— Amidala already has a jedi protector, no one knows what to do with the dart, and Anakin is much more well balanced now that he’s seen his mother, knows she’s safe, and she’s talked him through his emotions in a way that Obi-Wan can’t.
Does Palpatine give up on Anakin as a lost cause? Absolutely not. He does, however, adjust the plan, leaving an even more obvious trail to Kamino. Obi-Wan still ends up on Geonosis, only this time Anakin is there too, and Padmé isn’t. And, here’s the kicker— neither of them managed to get the message to the Jedi Council, so they’re stuck in their little rotating columns while Dooku stalks around and lies blatantly, waiting for them to be rescued and for the war to start. But the rescue never comes.
After the fourth or fifth day of this, Dooku realizes that if Palpatine managed to mess up such a simple plan, it might not be a good idea to follow his orders. He defects, exchanging everything he knows (which is quite a lot) for amnesty. Obi-Wan agrees to the trade, and the three of them escape Geonosis to go face down Palpatine.
Anakin is predictably furious about this. He doesn’t believe Dooku, of course, and he’s raring to kill the guy, but he’s also pretty sure he can’t take on both Obi-Wan and Dooku and win, so he waits until they get to Coruscant to comm the council. (Dooku lets him do it. The backup will be useful and he thinks he can time it so Sidious is throwing Force lightning at them when Yoda shows up.) (He can totally time it right.)
Yoda shows up just as Palpatine whips out a red lightsaber, since Dooku went straight for the beheading without letting him talk, and Obi-Wan was holding Anakin back to see what would happen. Palpatine could have beaten each of them on their own, probably even two at once, provided Dooku and Yoda didn’t team up— but against Anakin, who could probably vaporize someone with his mind if he tried hard enough, Yoda, who’s seven hundred years old and still wins the jedi parkour championships every year, Dooku, who’s the best duelist the Order has seen in a long while, and Obi-Wan, who, while not space jesus, a prodigy, or seven hundred years old, is no slouch in any jedi department, especially the ones that involve keeping Anakin from doing anything stupid? Yeah, Palpatine loses.
They all stumble into Kit’s Artisan Carpets an hour later, smelling of ozone and repressed emotions just waiting to come out. Kit looks at them all, makes a pot of tea, settles Anakin at his usual carpet-task doing place for some much needed meditation, and locks them in the room to talk.
“So,” Dooku says to Kit the next morning, once they’ve sorted all the politics and some of the emotions out, “what possessed you to take up carpets?”
Kit tilts his head, considering, and answers. “I just felt like it.”
(”Really?” Nahdar asks later. “You’re not going to tell them?”
“Well,” Kit replies, “would they believe me?”
“I guess not,” Nahdar says, “but time travel is hard to believe in.”
“It was more of a vision, really.” Kit huffs. “Besides, I did feel like it. Getting stabbed gives one new priorities.”
“Tell me about it,” Nahdar agrees. “Tell me about it.”)
#this happened because of that one post where a bot took over the kitfisto url to sell carpets#and apparently that concept was an irresistible temptation for me#that likely surprises no one but me#star wars#star wars au#kit fisto: carpet artisan au#willow's aus#kit fisto#star wars fix it au#anakin skywalker#obi wan kenobi#count dooku
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20. Safe with me
Prompt used - bandaging/ stitching other's injuries | WARNING- ABUSIVE, NON CONSENTED IMPLIED RELATIONSHIP |
" fuck- Tom- fuck no stop, stop please- red-red-Tom please " Draco cried out in genuine pain but his abusive boyfriend didn't care anymore, he just kept choking Draco while thursting in him repeatedly. Despite his desperate cries for him to stop, he didn't and when he did Draco wasn't more than a broken man. Tom didn't even care to check up on Draco and immediately fell asleep tired and drunk. Draco picked up his clothes from the ground, controlling his whimpers and entered the bathroom. It had to stop, it was so toxic for him but Tom kept pushing Draco back into the relationship, he didn't even had an out anymore and the worst,Draco now was afraid of Tom. He looked himself in mirror covered in tears, his body hurting and faint red marks over his neck from all the choking. He hated the man he saw in the mirror so much, so fragile, so vulnerable, so weak but more so the man who was doing this to him and like every night, Draco cried himself in the bathroom before casting a healing spell over himself and slept on the couch wondering if this would ever stop.
The next morning, Tom left the house without a word, Draco was happy if anything but he still felt so weak that he thought if he ate anything, he'd throw up. He picked up his things soon enough and left for work.
Draco was taking down notes about the new potion and it's precautions when he heard a knock .
" come in " he weakly Whispered not looking up from his paper.
" Draco I need to know if these potions discovered can have a side effect or could be manipulated, can you do that ?" Harry asked as he showed him the file.
" yea- I think it'll take some time but I'll let you know " Draco gave him a small smile taking the file and keeping it over the stack of the files.
Draco immediately subconsciously flinched on feelings Harry's hand lingering over his shoulder " hey, it's alright "
" yeah- I just got scared for a moment. It's dark in here you know " Draco lied clearing his throat. Harry frowned looking at Draco.
" hey would you Stand up for a moment ?" Harry firmly asked. Confused Draco did stand up in front of Harry. He soon discovered Harry was carefully examining his neck. His urge to immediately cover came upon him but Harry pushed his hand away.
" I thought you told him to stop doing this to you " Harry harshly Whispered, almost red from the instant anger.
" everything is fine Harry " Draco sighed. Harry immediately locked the door to get them some privacy and for safety so nobody else heard them.
" it doesn't look like it's fine draco !! These are choking marks, and not just any choking marks, these are brutal. I thought you had told him off " Harry bellowed
" I said everything is fine- you have nothing to worry about " Draco Choked back on his words
" this is not fine. He's using you Draco. W- why are you even letting him do this ? " Harry airily pointed his neck in frustration
" I'm not letting him do this okay, it's natural to him. He's working on it alright. He is-"
" is he really ? You can barely even stand properly Draco. You have to get out of this relationship, this is simply just abusive. That man is Abusing you-"
" and I'm aware of it but it's not as easy as it seems okay. You have no fucking idea what happens with us so stay the fuck out of my relationship " Draco yelled pushing Harry slightly by his chest
Frustrated Harry without a word left the room. Draco sighed, harsh breaths leaving his lips in attempts to not break down while he was at work but it was so hard considering he had just fought Harry. He was the only one slightly aware of Draco's situation. They were once invited to a party of the ministry and despite Tom's refusal Draco had dragged him in but the entire night Draco regretted it because Tom kept hurting him. It was only then Harry had once noticed the way Draco had flinched when Tom had almost raised his hands but stopped himself midway, being in public. Asking a bunch of questions next day, Harry realised whatever relationship Draco was in, was not safe but Draco had turned down Harry to do anything about it and Lying that he'd talk to him about it. It was beyond fixable and the only way Tom would possibly leave Draco was if he was murdered or simply became less interested, but that never really happened.
It was almost the last hour of work when he heard huge rustling from outside and he got up to check what had happened. He walked through the hallway fighting the crowd to find Hermione talking with Harry, yelling at more like but he wasn't having it and immediately slammed the door on her face. Frowning Draco approached Hermione
" what happened ?"
Her eyes softened immediately giving him a small smile " I'm mad at him for fighting for the right reason but the wrong way. I think he'd like to see you "
Confused Draco entered Harry's much bigger office compared to his own " Harry ?"
Harry appeared out of thin air, dabbing cloth to his lip. Draco's eyes widened at the looks of Harry, his hands were covered in blood and his nose was bleeding.
" this time it isn't you but because of you though" Harry pointed his nose. Closing the distance between them Draco took the cloth from Harry and pushed him down over the chair.
" you're lucky this time then " Draco gave him a small smile and leaned Harry's head on the chair and pressed the cloth lightly over Harry's nose to wipe off the blood.
" trust me, this wasn't easy either. Big fist " Harry chuckled letting Draco take control over him.
" who did you even fight ?" He asked as he now pressed the cloth over Harry's lips, gently.
Harry stared at Draco for a moment as if he was considering to just lie but chose not to and revealed the truth " Tom "
Draco stopped for a moment, anger instantly raging Inside him " didn't I tell you not to interfere ? What have you done Harry !! You have absolutely no idea what he'd do now " Draco closes his eyes imagining the treatment he'd receive Because of Harry.
" I'm sorry but I can't just sit here and let that man abuse you into sex everyday just because he's your boyfriend. I maybe an asshole Draco but I care for you more than you can imagine and if anything you should be thanking me, he's getting in prison for sexual assault " Harry rolled his eyes trying to get back up from the chair only to be pushed back down by draco.
Draco must've looked at harry for more than a few minutes until he had finally processed the situation.
" how d- did you ?" Draco whispered
" let's just say I have contacts " Harry sighed.
" listen Draco you can be mad at me all you want for his but one day you'd be glad I did it. I knew you needed help but-"
" thank you " Draco whispered looking behind Harry
" what ?" Harry asked leaning forward, confused if he had heard properly
" t- thank you Harry " Draco immediately wrapped his arms around Harry and let his tears finally flow. Hesitantly Harry wrapped his arms around Draco, tighter by each second, whispering soft and comforting words and letting him dampen his white shirt with tears.
It seemed like ages till Draco stopped weeping in Harry's arms and got back on his feets again.
" let's get you home " Draco said wiping off his face with the back of his hand . Nodding Harry and Draco, collected their things and left the office earlier than usual. Nobody seemed to mind.
They Landed up in Harry's place and without wasting time Draco had dragged Harry into his bathroom, searching for medical kit.
" Draco- I- I don't think it's the right time to say it but you will have to testify" Harry said as he leaned against the sink while Draco started wetting the towels.
Draco must've looked scared, horrified for a moment Because Harry immediately grabbed his hands and bought him closer
" it's fine. I'll be with you. He wouldn't do anything. They all trust you already Draco. You just need to say the truth "
Draco left a harsh breath, thinking about the consequences and the failure's of the plan until he looked up at harry and his worries evaporated second by second. He was here, Harry was here with him now.
" okay " he whispered and put the damped towels over Harry's wounds. He didn't need to ask to know what happened, Tom was an abusive man and he would had definitely tried to over power Harry at some point but Draco knew Harry was much more stronger than him, emotionally and physically.
Minute by minute Draco wiped away all of his injuries and started bandaging them while harry simply there over the sink, looking at Draco. Once the last bandage was done, Harry finally spoke up " you are fine with all of this right? You don't feel - well insulted or violated do you ?"
Draco analysed Harry's concerned expression's for a moment's before he sighed and let out his worries" I'm worried about everything now Harry. I'm afraid if he doesn't end up there and finally come back again and try to you know tor-"
" he wouldn't come back , I promise you " Harry told him clutching Draco's shoulders in a light grasp
" b- but- I'm still afraid if anything goes wrong -"
" you're right to worry but I mean it Draco. Even if he doesn't end up there , I swear to protect you from him no matter what the consequences might be " Harry promised Making Draco look him in the eye as a sort of committment.
It took forever for Draco to finally speak the words on his mind, thinking if he said the words out loud, it would change but they didn't " I believe you then "
Harry gave him a small smile and engulfed him in a small hug and let him hug him until he was sure Draco felt safer in his arms.
" you're safe with me Draco "
" I know " yet he didn't leave him.
Requests open
Day 19 - love have no bounds | Day 21- little jars of love
#drarry#harry potter#drarry incorrect quotes#draco x harry#hp fandom#harry james potter#draco is gay#drarry prompt#harry potter fanfiction#draco malfoy#harry x draco#drarry ao3#drarry au#drarry angst#drarry drabble challenge#drarry incorrect posts#drarry drabble#drarry ship#drarry imagines#drarry prompts#drarry stuff#drarry squad#drarry headcanon#drarry oneshot#draco lucius malfoy#harry potter text post#drarry fic rec#drarry fest#drarry ficlet#drarry fluff
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Shake, Rattle and Roll 6
Find my masterlist
This is the last chapter! We just have the epilogue. Now, in true Clue fashion, you have two choices, so please let me know which one you like better!
Summary: This is how it could have ended.
Warnings: Murder, slightly more descriptive. A couple flesh wounds. Swearing.
Tags: @fandom-blackhole @pedrocentric @sarahjkl82-blog @giizhkens-cedar
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It took moments for footsteps to thunder into the greenhouse, and you headed back down the passageway. That would keep one of them busy, at least. You waited in the study for the next big distraction, which didn’t take long. There was another crash, and idly you wondered who broke what. This house was not lacking in pretty, decorative, utterly smashable baubles.
Only one set of footsteps headed towards the library. You couldn’t help but grin. That part of the plan was a success, at least. You pulled your knife and left the study, looking carefully down the hallway. No sign of whoever was in the greenhouse. So you slipped into the library on silent feet, keeping a little hunched to make yourself a smaller target.
Mikken was alone in the library, his back to you, but only briefly. He was looking at the smashed window, but you knew that wouldn’t last long. You sped up, crouch-running up behind him, and slit his throat.
He slid to the floor with a wet gurgle and was still. You took a controlled breath, in and out. Then another. Only Inumon left now.
“That was very handily done, little dove,” Ezra spoke from behind you, making you jump. This man was a menace. “Then again, I may have to find a new moniker for you yet.”
“What?” you gasped, turning to look at him.
“That wasn’t particularly peaceable,” he told you with a smirk.
You gaped at him for a moment. “You got dove from, what, old Earth symbolism?”
He positively beamed. “I am impressed you know that! Not many do now.” He took a step closer to you, very much in your personal space. “I find myself more impressed with you all the time.”
“Apparently I’m impressive,” you told him, not quite sure if you were teasing or flirting or something else entirely.
“Most assuredly so.” He dipped his head closer to you, his eyes sliding half-closed even as his gaze dipped briefly to the rest of you. You drew in a breath to answer (although you had no idea what you were going to say) before he kissed you. One of his hands cupped your cheek, holding you still. His lips were soft and not exactly gentle but not rude, either. It was probably honestly the best kiss you’d had in years.
“Oh Kevva,” you heard Cee mutter, and then she tapped you both firmly on your shoulders. “Still one more murderer?”
“Yes, little bird,” Ezra murmured, pulling back enough to look at her. He looked a little annoyed now.
“She’s right,” you agreed, feeling your cheeks warm even as you took a half-step back. “We need to finish up here first, then we can…” You trailed off, making a vague gesture between yourself and Ezra.
He perked up at that. “Well, then, shall we?” He turned to the door and went rigid. You turned your head to see what was bothering him and also went still.
Inumon stood in the doorway, her face a snarl, her thrower out and pointed at Cee.
“Woah now,” you murmured, stepping carefully to the side. One hand gently tangled into Cee’s shirt, starting to pull her backwards. “You don’t want to shoot her, she didn’t do anything. I killed him.”
The thrower immediately aimed at you instead. Inumon still didn’t say a word, and for a moment you wondered why she was hesitating. Then you thought about it.
“You’ve only got one bullet left.”
The snarl on her face deepened, twisted, turning to equal parts rage and acknowledgement.
“That’s a six shooter,” you murmured, thinking it through out loud, for your own benefit as well as Ezra’s. “You shot once at me, which hit the chandelier. Two for the library door. And two for the blondes, which leaves one bullet left.”
“And you will get it,” Inumon finally spoke, her voice actually shaking with rage. She squeezed the trigger, Ezra and Cee both shouted something, and you stumbled backwards. Pain seared through your left arm, just below your shoulder. Somehow Inumon had missed a fatal shot.
Well. Assuming you didn’t bleed out.
There was another shot as Ezra fired at her. You didn’t even get a chance to watch, though, because Cee was in front of you, frantically grabbing you.
“Are you gonna be okay?” she asked, eyes wide and frightened. This was probably more violence than she’d seen in her life.
“I’ll be fine,” you gritted out, briefly screwing your eyes shut. Kevva, that hurt. “Got my arm. Probably not vital.”
“Do you have a med kit?” Ezra asked, joining Cee at your side.
“Who was that aimed at?” you asked. Your eyes were still closed, so it was unclear, and you figured pain gave you an excellent excuse to be both distracted and snippy.
“You. Not here, of course, but at your place of residence.”
“‘Course,” you agreed, opening your eyes. “I’m prepped.”
“Good.” Ezra hesitated only a moment. “Then let us away and I will care for your wound, little dove.”
You looked between him and Cee and something pulled in your chest. Something you hadn’t felt in a long time. “Yeah, okay,” you agreed, voice quiet. “Let’s go.”
That’s how it could have happened.
But how about this?
It took moments for footsteps to thunder into the greenhouse, and you headed back down the passageway. That would keep one of them busy, at least. You waited in the study for the next big distraction, which didn’t take long. There was another crash, and idly you wondered who broke what. This house was not lacking in pretty, decorative, utterly smashable baubles.
Only one set of footsteps headed towards the library. You couldn’t help but grin. That part of the plan was a success, at least. You pulled your knife and left the study, looking carefully down the hallway. No sign of whoever was in the greenhouse.
Movement from the kitchen caught your attention, and you watched Ezra creep down the hall, thrower in hand. He motioned you back, and you nodded and let him take point. You stayed out in the hallway instead, knife still clutched in your hand, watching for Inumon to reappear.
A soft call of your voice got your attention, and you half-turned to watch Cee edge her way out of the kitchen towards you.
“You okay, kiddo?” you asked her quietly.
“I’m fine. Are you?” She gave you a quick once-over.
“Yeah.” You shot her a reassuring smile, and then ushered her into the doorway of the study. That way she was protected, and you still had pretty good line of sight down the hallway. “We’re almost done here, kiddo. Then we’ll figure out what’s next for you. Okay?”
Cee nodded. She looked tired. No wonder, poor thing. It was late, even for you, and you couldn’t run on adrenaline alone forever.
Movement down the hall caught your attention, and you carefully nudged Cee further back into the room. Inumon crept down the hallway, thrower in hand, looking around cautiously. You looked back towards the library - no Ezra yet. But Inumon was getting closer to the library, and you couldn’t let her sneak up on Ezra. You weren’t willing to risk Ezra’s life.
So you crouched down low, still just barely leaning out of the doorway, watching as Inumon got closer to the library. And then you shouted.
“Ezra!”
Inumon whipped around, the thrower going off. You heard the bullet hit the gong behind you, and you hit the floor. There was a second shot, a third, and then a thud.
“Dove!” Ezra hit the floor next to you on his knees, and you blinked up at him. “Are you hurt?”
“No,” you answered, getting up carefully. You didn’t get farther than sitting though before Ezra grabbed you, pulling you to him in a kiss. You settled quickly, one hand pressed to his cheek.
The moment was ruined by the second chandelier crashing to the ground in the entryway, making you and Ezra both jump.
“How?” you muttered, staring at the ruined pile of crystal and metal.
“Inumon’s shot,” Cee guessed. “Must have ricocheted off the gong.”
You and Ezra both gave Cee appraising looks. Kid was way too smart for her own good. She frowned at you both and pointedly rattled the keys.
“Now can we go?”
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The Box
Tiberius Blackthorn had gotten quite good at compartmentalizing. Pretending that things weren't happening, that they didn't effect him. Pretending that he didn't feel. It was almost like flicking a switch. If things got too painful or too real he just turned it off. Closed his eyes and told himself over and over.
This isn't real. This isn't really happening. This doesn't matter. I don't care.
She isn't really dead. I don't miss him. I don't love him. Over and over until the pain stopped. Ty could usually make it last for awhile. Until something brought up an unpleasant memory or feeling and then he had to start all over again.
Being around Kit again was certainly making this worse.
Kit, in true Herondale fashion was in deep trouble with multiple people. As it turned out, he was the first heir and now a bunch of people were trying to either kill or kidnap him. So now a bunch of shadowhunters and downworlders had banded together to help him defeat his enemies and keep him safe. Ty had made a huge fuss to Drusilla about being forced to help. But secretly they both knew that he would rather die then let anything happen to Kit.
So now Kit was here, back in the Los angeles institute and currently sitting at the breakfast table with that vampire friend of his and Dru. She seemed to be very adamantly telling a story and Kit was laughing hysterically. Ty felt his heart turning over in his chest at the sound. He had to fight the urge to smile.
It isn't real. I don't love him. This isn't real.
Having him this close was torture. Hearing him laugh, watching him train, watching him flirt, watching him try not to cry in front of the others. There were so many times that Ty wanted to just reach out and touch him. Run his fingers through Kit's hair, trace the curve of his cupid's bow, hold him in his arms. It was a burning, suffocating ache.
Ty leaned back against his perch up on the windowsill. He had asked Livvy to give him some space to be alone. He was doing a decent job of blending into the background with his black clothing and dark hair. Or maybe they were just ignoring him. Ty pushed away that thought.
Suddenly he felt the weight of someone hopping up beside him. They made no noise or attempts to get his attention. Ty could hear the faint sound of Under Pressure coming out of headphones.
Alyssa.
Alyssa Reyes was the werewolf from Maia's pack who had been assigned to essentially be the scholomance's liaison to the downworld and help educate future centurions about downworlder affairs. She hadn't exactly been happy about this situation and had been pretty hostile towards most of them for awhile. But she and Ty had bonded over both being autistic, and also being queer. He could honestly say that meeting Alyssa had changed his life.
He turned to face her. She was staring up at the sky, mouthing along to the words of the song. Her black wireless headphones were slud over her ears and her dark waves were tied up into a low bun. She was excitedly fiddling with the straps of her white crop top which contrasted nicely against her golden brown skin. He stared at her for awhile, just basking in her presence.
He was sad that she was going back to New York in a week. He was really going to miss her.
Eventually she turned her gaze on him, sliding her headphones down. "You have all the best hiding spots" she confessed with a smile. 'Also I figured it was time to come interrupt your lurking because it was just getting a little sad." Ty rolled his eyes at her.
"I wasn't lurking! I'm literally just sitting here!" He protested worrying instantly that they were speaking too loudly. But everyone else was deeply preoccupied with their conversations and also they were several feet away. He stole a quick glance at Kit again and practically felt Alyssa disapproval radiating off of her. Ty turned back to face her displeased expression.
When Ty had first met Alyssa she was scared and standoffish but had quickly warmed up to him. He often described her as having pure magic in her warm brown eyes, so much excitement and life practicing buzzing out of her. But now her eyes were cold and dark. She seemed angry.
"I have just about had enough of this Ty" she announced. It's clear to me how much you want him, how much you love him, so why don't you just go talk to him already?"
Ty sighed, avoiding her gaze. "I can't."
She flailed her hands haphazardly. "What do you mean you can't Ty? You can. You just won't! I'm so sick of this!" She shouted.
Ty spared a panicked glance back at the kitchen table, but they hadn't looked their way. Still Ty hopped down from the ledge.
"Here, follow me" he said to Alyssa, pulling her off the ledge. She didn't protest. She allowed him to lead her out of the kitchen and into the hallway.
"Look" he began, "I don't want to talk to Kit alright? I'm still mad at him. I'm not just going to let that go." He explained. Alyssa just stared back at him.
There was a long drawn out pause where neither of them spoke. Ty wasn't that concerned. Long drawn out pauses were kind of their thing.
"Ok" she said slowly. "I need to tell you something that you might not be ready to hear. In fact it's probably going to make you really angry. But I need you to listen."
Ty had no idea what to say to that. But Aylssa kept on talking.
"Ty you need to get over yourself" she stated simply.
Ty bristled instantly. Rage flooded through his entire being. Who the fuck did she think she was? And to hear this from Alyssa of all people. Didnt she understand why he was so hurt? Why he was so angry?
Alyssa kept going before he could yell at her, stepping towards him slightly. "Listen to me Tiberius Blackthorn. I understand your pain, better than anyone else most likely. I understand your anger. I feel it to. I feel it everyday. The way the world treats us it's like little jagged cuts everyday, slowly whittling us down into nothing." Her voice broke. Her eyes were brimmed with tears.
"But I need you to ask yourself something" she continued shakely. "I need you to ask yourself, did Kit Herondale really do this? All of this? Is all of this really his fault? Something that we talk about a lot in therapy is putting the blame where it belongs. Recognize what was caused by which person and how much fault really lies with the person you're mad at. I know you don't want to forgive him because you're hurting and your also so fucking stubborn love" she laughed despite the fact that her eyes were filled with tears.
"You refuse to move. And I know why you do that because you think if you move, you will be admitting defeat. Admitting weakness. But you aren't Ty. You are saving yourself" She reached for him but shot backwards, shaking his head. He couldn't believe her. Maybe somewhere deep down he knew that she was probably right but he didn't care. He didnt care about what he knew anymore. All he could think about was the pain he felt.
"Please" she whispered "It isn't healthy to hold a grudge for this long. It isn't good for you. It isn't good for your soul." Alyssa wiped her eyes and stood up straighter, hardening her voice. "I know you're fed up with everything, and the same things keep happening over and over again. But here's the thing. Kit isn't responsible for what Paige did to you or what your father did, or your uncle or anyone else." Ty instantly began to shake at the mention of Paige Ashdown. He could feel all if those instances coming back to him. All of those kid memories he had tried to repress.
Whenever Ty had something horrible and traumatic happen to him. Everytime someone laughed in his face, everytime someone whispered behind his back or called him a slur. Every time someone made him doubt if he was really loved. Every autistic hate crime, every murder, every debate over the concept of his soul and whether it really existed. Livvy's death. Everything that happened that day on the beach. What Kit had said to him. Kit leaving him. He took all of it, all the bad memories, all of the pain and heartbreak. He took it and shoved it into some deep place inside of him. He usually envisioned a box of some sort. He shoved it all inside of that box, shut the lid and buried it.
This isn't real. This didn't happen. This isn't happening.
Ty's entire body was vibrating now. Alyssa put her hand on his shoulder. "Listen to me. Kit Herondale is not your enemy. He isn't trying to drown you or ship you off to an institution or shove you into ABA. And I know what you're thinking, that's a pretty fucking low bar and I know!" She exclaimed. "I know! But we have to start somewhere Ty. We have to start somewhere or else we will never get anywhere. That kid is so fucking in love with you and yes he does not deserve a gold medal for doing so, but he is fighting like hell to win you back."
That much was true. Kit had been trying to talk to him all week, but Ty kept brushing him off. It wasn't enough, he always told himself. It wasnt enough. He wasnt actually sure if Kit really loved him. He just refused to believe it.
Ty shook his head at Alyssa, his fingers fluttering at his sides. He began to hit his hands against his thighs to ease some of the tention he was feeling. Alyssa squeezed his arm, taking a deep breath.
"I know you are sick and tired of explaining the same things over and over and answering stupid questions and always having to make adjustments and put in the effort when everyone else doesn't try. I am too! Believe me! But I think at a certain point you need to ask yourself if you can forgive him for not knowing?" She asked. "Can you forgive him for being ignorant and making a mistake and breaking your heart because you've hurt him too? Can you accept that he is not perfect?" She dropped her arm down and stared him directly in his eyes. "Because neither are you. Ty I know you dont wanna hear this, but you live in a very privileged bubble where most people let you get away with murder because you're a man and you're white, while those same people condemn me for being rude and intolerable." She said pointedly.
Ty bit his lip. He felt like he should argue with her but he knew she had a point. "You're a shadowhunter!" She glared at him. "You're a shadowhunter and your people have committed so many atrocities against mine. You and your family spent most of your time ignoring all of this and only focusing on helping your brother and sister. You joined an organization that has a history of doing terrible things to downworlders!" She shouted.
"Well so did you!" He shot back even though he knew it wasnt really the same thing. "And by the angel Ali if you really hate me that much then why are you even here?" Alyssa just shook her head at him and rolled her eyes. "Because I don't hate you genius. I could hold these things against you, but I don't. I forgave you for not knowing. As long as you acknowledge it and try to work on making things better, which you are, then I can let it go. Because like I said Ty, we have to start somewhere" she pleaded. "
"You have to be brave and let it go."
Instantly Ty sucked in a breath. He recognized the words she had used perfectly. They were from a song.
Their song.
Tears instantly gathered in his eyes. He let out a shakey exhale and she smiled sadly at him.
"Because right now all you're doing is hurting is yourself." Alyssa said with a shrug.
Ty squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. "I know" he whispered. He opened his eyes again, she was staring at him sympathetically with those warm eyes. "I just dont know how to do this" he admitted. "I don't know how to deal with all if it. I don't think I can."
Alyssa looked confused "Deal with what exactly?"
Ty took a deep breath. "The box" he exhaled. Alyssa looked even more confused. It was a little funny.
So he decided to tell her. He told her about the coping mechanisms he had been using since he was a child. He told her about the box and how many things he had buried in it, and what they were. She cried and held him tightly to her chest. He let himself cry along with her.
He cried for that kid who had the door slammed in his face, that kid who had his interests mocked and spat on. That kid who had his heart broken over and over again long before Kit Herondale. That kid who never felt accepted or like he belonged, not even with his own twin. He cried for Livvy. He cried for that kid on the beach who lost everything. Who wanted to apologize to Kit and make everything right because he was so fucking naive and stupid, and Magnus Bane told him to go away.
So he did. But it hadn't solved anything.
He also cried for Kit. His Kit.
Ty pulled away from Alyssa, wiping at his eyes. "The worst part is it's not just my pain that's in there. I put all of the stuff with Kit in the box too" he confessed. "Like I mean the stuff that's happening right now. He's in a world of danger and I can't feel that because if I feel it then I'm afraid it'll break me."
Alyssa contemplated this for a while. "I know Ty, but you have to face it. All of it. You have to open the box or else you'll never get through it." She said sternly.
Ty leaned up against the wall if the institute. When he spoke, it sounded like it was coming from somewhere far away. "Every bad thing that happens to him feels like it's happening to me. Everything from when he was younger. When he was alone." Ty was making an effort not to cry again.
"I want him to know that he'll never be alone again. Not as long as I'm alive."
Alyssa looked at him incredulously. "Well then don't you think you should tell him that?"
Ty didn't answer her, just stared ahead. He still needed to think. Alyssa seemed to understand that because she spared him one final glance and then walked towards the kitchen.
"I'm gonna go eat" she announced. "Come join us when you're ready."
And then she left Ty alone in the hallway with his thoughts.
You have to open the box.
This is real. All of this is real.
You have to open the box.
@older-brother-kit @zafirafoxx @idontgetit-whydoihavetosaymyname @ti-bae-rius @anxiousbookenthusiast @emiikas @eutony-in-whisper
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beach please
pairing: rex / reader / cody
word count: 6166
summary: once the war ended, you retreated to scarif for much-needed time to recenter yourself. rex and cody worry when you don’t answer your comms for days and leave coruscant to find you, fearing the worst. turns out you’ve just been drinking and partying, now sporting two new tattoos.
a/n: the self-created duke of scarif is jimmy buffett & i was inspired by his song “margaritaville” & “beach please” by kevin fowler.
canon changes: everyone listened to fives abt the chips & palps was discovered to be a sith lord. the clones were given human rights, a generously low locked-in rent if they lived on coruscant, and as much back pay as the republic could afford (not much but better than nothing).
“master y/l/n, there’s still so much to be done-”
“and you can have someone else do it. you must not be capable of recognizing the importance of reevaluating the way we interpret the code, or else this conversation wouldn’t be occurring.”
obi-wan blanched at the barely tamed fury radiating from your force signature. this was the second time in less than a year that he felt something so raging from your force signature, the time before this meeting being the aftermath of umbara. before the nightmare that was the siege on the shadow planet, it had been decades since you were angry enough about something to raise your voice to the council. it took a very great transgression to ignite your anger into something scathing and this meeting was doing exactly that.
the council was meeting to discuss the senate’s plans to have the jedi spearhead efforts to repair the galaxy and quell the revolts in areas that still wanted to continue the war. palpatine was manipulating both sides and if it weren’t for fives and kix, the republic would have been none the wiser when chancellor palpatine executed the order to have the clones murder their jedi.
“how are we going to guide the galaxy through the changing times if we’re unable to reevaluate our own beliefs and how the war impacted them? so many of our padawans were raised in this war, far different than how they should have been brought up.” your mind drifted to ahsoka and late-night conversations spent trying to make sense of the reality of war and how she’d been nothing but a soldier since she left the temple at fourteen. “the senate is not our responsibility nor our lead authority. we were their pawns once and despite seeing the consequences on geonosis, we let ourselves get wrapped in politics. think of what we lost because of it.”
eeth koth was deeply disturbed by your entire demeanor as well as the words spilling from your lips. if there was ever a jedi that made you want to leave the order, he’d be it. douchebag. “our duty is to the galaxy, to maintain peace! you can’t expect us to sit back and do nothing when people are struggling!”
obi-wan shared your sentiment but strived for more unity than polarization within the meeting. “but aren’t we struggling just as much as the rest of the galaxy? time must be allotted for us to heal the wounds of war before we’ll be able to successfully help others that are suffering, if that’s what’s agreed upon.” a few jedi nodded their agreement, masters plo and gallia among them. shaak looks close to being convinced but seems to still be hesitant to comment on her opinion.
“in order to help the galaxy, we must help ourselves. our emotions must be looked into with more than just the intent to throw them away at a moment’s notice. knowing why we feel the things we do can help us with far more than just our connection to the force.”
this was an idea that obi-wan has spent many years struggling with but it took the end of the war to guide him into believing that emotions aren’t the enemy, it’s how they’re utilized that counts. he explained this concept to his fellow council members and it was a sentiment you agreed with immensely.
saese scoffs at the mere idea of doing more with emotions besides dispelling them into the force. “that sounds a lot like allowing your emotions to cloud your judgement, master kenobi, something your lineage is quite popular for-” oh he crossed the line. saese was not about to talk shit about your creche mate and closest friend or his lineage and get away with it.
“no need to pardon my language, master, but it sounds a lot like you’re allowing your own emotional shortcomings and the bantha fodder you call intelligence to cloud your judgement.”
even mace was stunned at the verbal jab that came from your seat. kit had been mid-drink and it took him several seconds to recover from the way he choked on his water. you were normally calm and collected, a voice of reason amid the chaos. this time, however, you were at your limit. this was your cue to leave.
mace spoke up as you neared the door. “y/l/n, where do you think you’re going?”
“i’m going to heal and allow myself to enjoy the peace we gave nearly everything to obtain. if you want to join me, feel free to let me know.”
your robes billowed out behind you as the council meeting dissolved into chaos. you were convinced that if your seat was close enough to master yoda’s that you’d be sporting a few new gimer stick bruises. thank the force for the little things.
later that evening, you boarded your personal ship and set the coordinates for scarif. that was the perfect place to go as a jedi that didn’t want to be found by anyone that they didn’t fully trust. who would think to find a monk on a planet filled with booze, sex, and other carnal pleasures? a few comms were sent telling the recipients that you were going on vacation and to call if you were needed, giving them a new private commlink and vague hints at where you’d be.
scarif, here i come.
“she hasn’t commed us in nearly a week! what reason is there to not worry?”
“rex, she would have called us if there was something wrong.”
“you know as well as i do that there are still radical seppies trying to keep the war going. the kidnapping of a jedi would surely be cause to fight!”
cody sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. he conceded that you ignoring their comms was highly unusual, yes, but you weren’t the type to throw yourself heedlessly into danger like some of the other jetti they knew (cough cough, skywalker and kenobi). “no one in their right mind is going to think to look for a jedi on scarif, the place is too carefree and without a permanent stuck up its shebs.”
rex knew there was a valid point to the statement. he vaguely recollects general kenobi’s mild yet humorous complaints about the “uncivilized, booze-blooded” inhabitants of the beach planet. general skywalker’s only problem with scarif, it seems, was the fact there was sand nearly everywhere, the drunks and constant parties posing no issue to the younger jedi. the reason for his disdain of sand was never expanded upon.
“i’m still going to look for her, feel free to come with.” they were free men who had no one to report to, no one telling them where they could go or when to eat and sleep, so of course rex was going to look for you. with this newfound freedom cody and rex moved into a middle-level apartment together, nothing too fancy but quite a contrast to their former living spaces under the gar.
rex chose to join the police force on coruscant and quickly climbed the ranks, excelling in every task thrown at him. he was a force to be reckoned with, crime rates dropping rapidly within his first month.
cody hasn’t made a new career choice yet, the commander still trying to find his own path. he had tried his hand on the police force but he quickly realized it wasn’t his cup of tea and left rex to it. he’s helping with groceries and other living costs with his back pay despite rex’s protests for him to put it to better use (what better use is there for credits than helping you survive day to day? that’s what they’re made for).
they were given a ship by general skywalker -anakin, rex’s mind supplied; he had corrected them many times about not using the rank- that the man had modified himself because he “wouldn’t want any friends of mine flying around the galaxy in a piece of junk.” apparently any sort of ship/speeder/droid/anything not built and/or modified by the man was inferior in nearly every imaginable way. it was a kind and meaningful gesture that anakin was willing to go to such lengths to protect them, no matter how unnecessary. the war was over after all, there was no need to have blaster attachments on their civilian speeder.
“like i’m gonna leave you to your own devices, di’kut. of course i’m going with.”
“you better hurry and pack, i’m planning on leaving no later than 1800.”
sitting in the reclined beach chair with two margaritas, you haven’t enjoyed yourself this much in a long time. the togrutan brother and sister you met soon after your arrival had become dear friends in your two months on scarif, the three of you becoming a trio commonly seen hitting the best parties all over the planet. miek wasn’t as much of a party animal in comparison to his sister briel who was known for her wild drunken antics.
you had been there and lived in your small ship for a total of two days before they offered you a place with them. no one lived alone on scarif, they said, and it would be wrong to let you continue to be deprived of the peace the waters brought when it was lulling you to sleep.
meeting the duke of scarif during your first week planetside was quite an exhilarating experience, to put it briefly. duke buffett was an older man with hair as white as the sands he loved to party on day and night, one hand perpetually occupied by a drink and a guitar strapped to his back. he was known to play and sing during the parties he attended, his carefree attitude evident in his voice.
although no one would have guessed by looking at him, he was a fierce conservationist who would either have his guards fight anyone caught littering or, if drunk enough, would fight them himself. you’ve held him back a time or two when he clearly wasn’t in shape to do said fighting and helped ease the situation back to a fun normal.
now you weren’t a heavy drinker by any means, but your tolerance was better than most because of your connection to the force. this made you a favorite drinking buddy to many of the planet’s permanent inhabitants and tourists. of these numbers was the duke himself whom you would sometimes humor by opening drinks with your lightsaber. it was a splendid game that won you diplomatic immunity (apparently he can do that) on the planet after two weeks of jedi party tricks and fight-preventing.
time had become even more of a social construct than you had believed it to be before the war. there were parties going on at all hours of the day and night and the concept of solitude was forgotten. everyone here extended a hand to each other, friend or not-yet friend (there were no strangers on scarif, just friends you haven’t made yet). what little pain felt was carried by all until it was so faint that it seemed to heal itself. the waters healed, you had no doubt in your mind.
the sun was high in the sky when the ship landed next to yours behind your current residence. you were, of course, not home to know where it landed but you did see said ship flying overhead as you relaxed on a blanket next to briel and miek. maybe they were lost, but you had confidence that someone on the island would help them in what they need. this was the way of scarif, after all.
you were distracted by the drinks in both of your hands, alternating sips between the two. you were outfitted in a flowy summer dress that had ridden up a smidge too high while you were lounging on a reclined beach chair. briel was rubbing - lotion? sunscreen? - something on your exposed thighs as you relaxed, enjoying the way the breeze felt on the moisturized skin.
this was the best decision you’ve ever made, coming to scarif. eventually you were going to leave, yeah, but that was a problem for future you. for now, you were going to enjoy the endless sunshine and copious amounts of alcohol that aided in your relaxation.
they had seen the docking bay protruding into the sky like a gundark among loth-cats and decided instantly that you weren’t going to be there. you had told them ages ago that the vibes (you used that word a lot to describe force things to them) that came from industrial buildings bothered you terribly. something along the lines of wearing on your psyche, if they remembered correctly. instead, they flew a little lower than they probably should have to search the ground for where you landed your ship.
it took longer than they would have liked it to, but your ship was eventually found behind a medium-sized hut not too far from one of the many beaches. cody found just the right angle to land next to it and not hurt either shuttle, not trusting rex to touch the controls (his vod was a terrible pilot).
both men decided that even if scarif was a peaceful planet, they still didn’t know what to expect, so they equipped themselves with their blasters and lower armor before leaving their ship. first order of business: check to see if you were in your ship. if you weren’t, they could cross that bridge when they got there.
just as they were beginning to open the ramp, a man emerged from the hut and began to storm their way. he was togrutan, with yellow skin and lavender stripes on his lekku and montrals.
“hey! you two! what’s your business with that shuttle?” he sounded like he was ready to fight them about the ship, which worried the brothers, but he slowed his advance when he noticed the two blasters pointed in his direction. good, this guy wasn’t a complete di’kut.
cody was the first to lower his weapon, quick to take the diplomatic approach. rex followed suit but didn’t soften the intimidating stare he threw at the man. there was a reason your ship was there and they were going to stop at nothing to find out why. “we’re looking for a friend of ours, she hasn’t answered our comms in over a week and we were worried, it isn’t like her to not reply. last we talked to her she was here on scarif.”
the togrutan paused for a moment, inspecting the appearances of the men (clones, his mind told him, the telltale armor and near identical faces hiding nothing) in front of him.
the blond had an air of confidence about him, an almost dangerous sort of confidence. his armor was painted with a shade of blue that was pleasantly similar to the waters he just returned from, pieces of it chipped from what he supposed were rough times in battle. his jaw was set, hand hovering above where he holstered his weapon seconds before.
he didn’t appear to be bloodthirsty, just protective; who he wanted to protect, however, was still a mystery. there was a passion in his eyes that wasn’t even mildly held back. he seemed to be skilled in channeling that passion into his every thought, every action. with a note to himself to not get on this man’s bad side, he switched his focus on the blond’s companion.
miek’s gaze shifted to the other clone and quickly decided that he liked this one better. there was an extremely intimidating scar along the side of his face, yet this one seemed far less willing to shoot him on sight. he still has a grit and presence about him that told miek that this one wouldn’t hesitate to fuck your shit up if need be, but he had tact (thank the stars one of the clones had a sense of discretion).
he could tell that this one had some sort of authority over the blond, clearly serving as a high percentage of the other’s common sense. miek’s mind, after analyzing the men thoroughly, gives names for the men before they introduce themselves. “you must be the famed rex and cody! come, i’ll take you to the shoreline!”
he gestured for them to follow him and was genuinely shocked when instead of doing as he suggested, he was tackled to the ground. miek spit away everything that had gotten into his mouth, unable to move when one of the men pinned him down. this was officially miek’s worst day in over a decade.
he caught a glimpse of marigold stripes on leg armor just over his shoulder, confirming the identity of the man on top of him as rex. “how do you know our names?!” rex’s voice sent a shiver down miek’s spine (the blaster against his back also helped in that), and the togrutan reaffirmed his choice in his favorite clone: not rex.
“i’ve heard stories about you two! from y/n! i’m assuming you’re here about y/n, right?” the blaster was removed from his back and a little bit of the weight was taken off him. he must be saying something right. “she’s been staying with my sister and i, and i promise you she’s perfectly safe!” rex moves his weight completely off him now, allowing miek to stand back up but not move more than a few feet away from him.
“where is she?” cody’s voice was hauntingly low, nothing about him betraying his tension except for the hard glare felt like lasers. he had the same desire, same yearning to protect someone - that someone miek now knew was you - and it burned brighter than a hundred suns.
“last i saw her was thirty minutes ago on the shore with briel, my sister. i can take you to them if you would kindly not threaten to shoot me again. my name is miek, and i would say it was a pleasure to meet you both but then i’d be making myself a liar.” he had no idea where that bit of snark at the end came from but it seemed to sway the clones to his favor. why it did, he had no clue, but at least he wasn’t getting shot.
they walked silently for a few minutes, the two troopers beginning to slightly admire the view while keeping eyes on miek. it was a beautiful planet, there was no denying that. you were surely enjoying yourself in the sunshine, always finding a little bit of time to bask in the nature of whatever planet you ended up on during the war.
it was strange to cody, not feeling eyes on him as he walked with rex on the beach. when he would accompany general ke- obi-wan on trips to the temple or into the streets of coruscant, he constantly felt the eyes of many on him. they would be expressing curiosity, shock, disdain, or something in between, and cody could feel every bit of it. here, it seemed, no one cared that he was a clone. no one was leering at him for walking too close to them or for just breathing the same air as them. cody was blissfully able to blend with the people here and he loved it.
he was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t notice when miek had come to a stop in front of a small cluster of reclinable chairs. a large umbrella provided the area with a patch of shade and a smidge of reprieve from the sun’s blistering heat.
“see? she’s perfectly fine.” miek’s voice broke their precious silence. “i’m assuming you both can find your own way back to your ship, so i’ll be headed off.” miek left them quite quickly and rex guessed (with a bit more amusement than was warranted) that it was because he nearly shot the man on more than one occasion minutes earlier.
“cody! rex! when did you two get here?”
a familiar voice drew their attention and it took them a second longer than it should have for them to realize that yes, you were the one lounging in front of them as if it’s all you’ve ever done in your life. you were extremely relaxed and your posture conveyed your state perfectly, two margaritas perched in loose hands, both half-empty. an ivory summer dress flowed loosely around you, the front hiked a bit too high for the men to keep their imaginations under control. that wasn’t even acknowledging the neckline of your dress (or lack thereof) that made their throats a bit dry and minds slip into the gutter.
rex and cody cleared their heads after indulging the images for a second, the latter clearing his throat before replying, “just a few minutes ago. you haven’t answered our comms in over a week. rex had the idea to come and visit to see how you were doing, so here we are.”
that was really sweet of them to check up on you, you thought with a smile. you felt a bit guilty about not answering their comms. normally you were careful to reply to theirs and every other message you received soon after getting it, but as stated earlier, time has become a social construct that didn’t really matter while on scarif. you gestured for them to sit, and they took the open chair to your left. they didn’t bother laying back, just sitting shoulder to shoulder in the same chair with their eyes on you.
offering them both half-drank margaritas was a subconscious action on your part that surprised you. what shocked you even more was the fact they accepted the drinks with soft, fond smiles. kriff you missed them, how you’ve been able to go this long without seeing them was beyond you.
you smiled warmly as you introduced your boys to briel, who was smirking a bit too widely than would be deemed safe (you didn’t notice this, seeing as you were too busy drinking in the sight of your boys and the way the sunlight made their eyes glow). her eyes drifted to your thighs as she put in very little effort to hide a laugh. dark clone trooper eyes decided to see what was so amusing to the togruta, and they choked on whatever words they were contemplating.
on your thighs were rex and cody, left and right respectively. or, more accurately, on your thighs were six-inch tattoos of rex and cody.
both men were in quite show-offy poses, appearing to have the intent to make them look like pin-ups. the lower half of their armor was equipped but they were shirtless, faint details of scars and sweat appearing to glisten in imaginary sunlight.
cody’s face was set in a smolder the likes of which would send half the women in the galaxy into puddles at the commander’s feet. his dc-15a was held aloft in his right hand while his left arm was holding his helmet in place in the crook of his hip. his left foot was stepping on a small heap of droids which brought his knee up a bit, and he was facing the inked rex on the opposite thigh.
rex’s wild smile could catch the soggiest piece of kindling alight with the allure and charm it held. his eyes were sparkling with a pleasant mirth not often seen in the man. both hands wielded his trusted dc-17’s, the right blaster pointed at the droids under cody’s foot while the left was pointed in the air, blaster bolts coming out of both. his helmet was under his right foot, jaig eyes almost peering into your soul and welding marks visible from his customization of the phase 2 helmet.
commander and captain are both beginning to flush at the art in front of them. they were flattered to see drawings of themselves look so dashing, and seeing it on your body roused feelings they had spent years repressing. their biggest question now was whether their likenesses on your body translated into something more on your end.
“nice to finally meet my friend’s muses,” briel quips, “it’s hard to get her to talk about something that isn’t you two when she’s plastered.” she pauses a moment, thinking of her next words and chuckling to herself. “she’s barely spent three consecutive days completely sober since she got here, which means that you two are almost all she talks about.”
this deepened the heat in their cheeks as you playfully swatted at briel’s shoulder. “that is not true!” a moment of silence. “wait, what day is it? that miiiight make a difference.”
rex chortles at the admission. “glad to see you enjoying yourself, cyare. but kix would be enraged to hear that you’ve been drinking nearly every day for two months, and we can’t exactly blame him.” he grinned as he took an experimental sip of the drink you gave him. it was stronger than he expected, but it had an underlying sweetness not often found in margaritas. he liked it.
sitting up, your dress covered your ink as you expertly drank from the margarita in cody’s hand while he still held it. the commander sent you a soft glare, wondering why you didn’t just get a new drink but enjoying the moment nonetheless. “kix shmix, his face isn’t on my thigh so i don’t really care what he has to say right now.” you lean toward cody and rex before whispering, “you didn’t bring him, did you?”
all three of them guffawed at the question, you joining their laughter solely because of how happy the joy radiating from your boys’ force signatures made you.
calling them your boys had become second nature after mere months of fighting beside them. you spent an inane amount of time with them during planning and actual combat, and were just as much their general as their actual generals were (despite you not carrying the honorific). any free time was spent with one or the other if available, but if they were both occupied you would make your way toward the barracks and join a few games of sabacc.
there were nights you’d spend in the barracks with either battalion (depends on which group you were assigned to at the time) and be welcomed there as if you were a fellow clone. they taught you to play sabacc and you enjoyed playing with them despite the fact you had the most rotten luck with the game.
winning didn’t carry any weight when you were able to spend time with rex and cody, shamelessly basking in the way they always seemed to have some sort of physical contact with you every moment possible. when rex and/or cody returned from whatever responsibilities held them earlier, the men were quick to relinquish them a seat next to you with a sly grin.
their vode noticed the affection shared for the jedi on sabacc night number two and didn’t hesitate to spread word of it around to the rest of their battalions and beyond. on the nights you accompanied them on trips to 79’s, men under rex and cody both (read: fives and boil) made sure that the rest of their brothers and the occasional civvie knew that you three were off-limits to anyone but each other. you were their jetti & they were your captain and commander, no one would get between that even if it wasn’t decided among those in question.
“nah, he’s kept his head in his work. he just got his civvie medical license, started his own private practice on naboo.” rex was extremely happy for his brother, although it was strange to not see him nearly every day. it took a while before he was used to the lack of vode around him at all moments, but cody has been a massive help with that transition.
cody nodded before adding onto his brother’s statement. “and besides, we’re not that cruel, cyar’ika.” you grinned at the endearing tone, choosing that moment to snag another drink from the glass in cody’s hand. he swatted at your hand gently but didn’t put up a fight otherwise, just smiling at how carefree you’d become.
during their comms you did sound at peace, and the times where you’d appear via hologram to him your posture was less rigid than it was during wartime. scarif was good for you, cody knew this. the knowledge of your happiness, however, couldn’t prevent selfish thoughts from returning to the front of his mind. thoughts of you leaving scarif with him and rex, lighting up their apartment better than the sun with nothing but a smile were pipe dreams he indulged in when nightmares of war caught up to him.
“y’know,” you began, “no one would ever tell me what that word really meant.” the men froze, trying to play it off. they were saved only by the fact you kept talking. “none of the men ever gave me a straight answer, just saying that it was something you say to someone you trusted. i even asked duchess satine about it when i was on mandalore. she asked who was using the word and when i told her it was you two, she just grinned like a tooka with a rat tail hanging from its mouth.”
duchess satine was most definitely going to be receiving a gift in the near future.
briel chose that moment to speak for the first time in a while, crossing her arms behind her head. “i’ve never been to mandalore nor heard a lick of what i’m guessing is its native language, but you’d have to be a fool to not guess its meaning by now.” her words were directed at you but they made the men sputter.
“what is that supposed to mean, brie?”
“seriously? please tell me you’re kidding.”
briel was absolutely incredulous. how could a member of the highly revered jedi order, known for the wisdom of its members, not read between the lines? they were giving her plenty to work with in terms of evidence of their affections that they weren’t hiding very well, how did you not know?!
silence followed her words and she came to the startling realization that you were, in fact, not kidding. “look at them, these two adore you! they followed you here like stray tookas when you didn’t comm them enough.” the men didn’t even bother looking offended as they were called out by the togruta. they were scared you’d be disgruntled at the blatant show of care for you but briel wasn’t done. “sithspit y/n, you got tattoos of them because you said you missed them so much!”
hold on, rewind, what did she just say?!
“you… missed us?” rex’s voice was softer than anyone had heard it be in a long time. part of him aches to throw his drink over his shoulder and take you into his arms with no regard to the outside world, yet he restrains himself. this could very well be a trap, an illusion or extremely detailed dream the likes of which he’s never experienced.
then again, how would that explain his mind creating a taste for something he’s never had before?
he concluded that this was indeed real, and he very well could do exactly as his heart desires if he let go for just a moment, just long enough for the contents of his glass to seep into the sand and his calloused hands to roam your exposed skin.
but he also remembers long talks with his ori’vod about their mutual affections for you. how selfish and uncaring it would be for him to try and keep you to himself after spending so many nights lamenting with cody about the way you made them both feel more human. the way you tethered them to sanity when the war threatened to dispose of what little control they had over themselves or their fates, the softness of your fingers intertwined with theirs whenever you had the chance. both men would contemplate the way you’d taste as you downed several shots at 79’s or cups of the contraband moonshine brewed by the men, wondering how much would be the alcohol and how much would be you and wishing that they could find out.
it would be a betrayal far greater and even more despicable than that of palpatine and the republic, and rex didn’t think he could handle losing the respect of his ori’vod no matter what was given in return. not even you.
the togruta woman officially lost the last speck of patience she held for the clueless, lovesick trio, groaning that she gave up as she left them to their own devices.
you were confused. why would you not miss them? did those years of fighting next to them and caring about them and loving them not translate to the idea of missing them when they were gone? yeah you were a little tipsy when you got your tattoos, but that didn’t change the facts as to why you got them: you wanted cody and rex by your side and moments spent without them were moments spent unhappy. they were your boys, the two reasons you kept fighting in that cursed war instead of returning to the temple with your tail between your legs at the first sign of combat.
cody downed his margarita with a solid gulp before taking your right hand in both of his, face twisted almost identically to his brother’s while processing the information you presented. he marveled in the familiar grooves and calluses from battle that were beginning to soften, thoroughly enjoying the fact he didn’t have to hide anything from you or the rest of the galaxy about the love - cody was sure now that this was indeed love - he held for you and you alone.
“is that true, cyar’ika?” cody’s voice was sickeningly hopeful. he’s never allowed himself to hope, knowing that diving too deep into desire could lead to consequences tantamount to death. hearing you stumble over your words as you admitted to loving him, loving him and rex both in the same capacity, cracked the last mask of stoicism he had in his reserves. his mouth was smiling but his eyes were wet, and anyone who didn’t know him would think the man was karking mad.
you weren’t as focused on your boys as you would have been any other moment, too busy trying to figure out what you said for cody to ask about and oh. holy shit, i said all of that out loud. then, a brief moment of clarity. i said every bit of that, but they’re not leaving. they’re instead moving closer, taking my hands in theirs and then- “have i ever lied to either of you?” your heart once again overpowered your brain, taking over your vocal chords and bringing voice to your thoughts.
rex nestled his glass into the sand before going to his knees in front of you, eyes sparkling from both the scarif sun and unshed tears. “you could never, ner’jetti.” he rested his chin on your knee not blocked by cody, his subconscious deciding to nuzzle his head into the hand that had come up to his face.
within seconds, the clunky armor had taken to the sand. they didn’t startle at the sudden exposure to just their bottom blacks because they could feel the soft humming of the force around them, knowing that it was merely you making them more comfortable. you were pulling them toward you and into your reclined chair, rex’s chin in one hand and cody’s hands in the other. they were quick to take a hint, immediately moving to either side of you to lay on their sides, facing their jetti with soft smiles.
rex made quick work of wrapping an arm around your waist, face burying itself into the crook of your neck as best he could. he inhaled your scent, the familiar ozone that came with the force mingling wonderfully with scarif’s ocean water and the tropical drinks you’ve been keeping yourself busy with.
cody tangled one hand into your hair, fingers softly moving as he rested his other arm slightly above his brother’s. the hand touching your waist softly stroked your side as he let his eyes drift closed, the force wrapped around him like a blanket of protection.
no one spoke of love in the hours you spent wrapped in each other’s arms in that uncomfortable-for-three-people chair. the admissions and conveyance of all the love held between the three of you was saved for the privacy of their ship. cody and rex worshiped you and you did the same for them, no one allowing there to be a single doubt as to where your hearts belong.
#star wars reader insert#star wars fanfic#star wars imagines#star wars the clone wars#star wars#captain rex#captain rex x reader#captain rex imagines#commander cody#commander cody x reader#commander cody imagine#captain rex x reader x commander cody#poly rex x reader x cody#commander cody x reader x captain rex#beach please#this is fluffy as hell#i refuse to ship him with qui-gon#ct-7567#cc-2224
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Your story where Ian sacrifices himself for Barley was SO GOOD!!! I love protective Ian almost as much as protective Barley. Speaking of: the story said Barley was strangled while he was drunk. Have you thought about a prequel fic where Ian had to rescue him by picking him up and taking him home, then comfort and care for Barley afterward?
Thank you! And I was working on something like that, so here you go. Again, WARNING: please read with caution, guys, this is going to have direct abuse mentioned.
By the time Barley realized he made mistakes in dating Drew, it was too late. He ignored all the signs and red flags of a physically and mentally abusive relationship. He stopped talking to his family about his and Drew's problems because he knew what they would say. Maybe deep down he knew it was wrong all along, but he tried to remember the good times he and Drew had. How in the beginning, Drew was a great boyfriend.
Or was that all just an act?
"We never do anything I want to do!" Drew's voice echoed through the house and gave Barely a headache. His head was already swimming and he was having enough trouble figuring out what his boyfriend was so upset about.
He looked over at his drink. He can normally handle a half bottle of vodka no problem, but whatever was in there was stronger. Why did Drew always have to pick such heavy alcohol? Oh, right.
"I told you no. Alright, I'm not ready for anything like that and I'm not going to be pressured into doing anything!" he snapped back.
He recalled his mother's conversation with him before he left. She desperately wanted Barley to end this relationship. Said it was abusive. Said she was worried about Barley's safety every night when they went out. Maybe she had a point.
He glanced over at the bruises on his arms. He made sure to hide them from his family. His mother would kill Drew and Ian would get involved. He didn't want Drew anywhere near them. It's why they didn't hang out at his house anymore.
"I can't do this," Barley finally said. It wasn't a yell. There was no pain or remorse in his voice. He was done. But when he went to get up, his head started spinning and before he could quite comprehend what was happening, he felt something hit the side of his head. He collapsed and saw Drew towering above him.
His boyfriend kicked him down. He hit Barley over and over again, until his fists were bleeding. He hit the floorboard again and when he went to sit up again, he felt Drew's hands around his throat. Drew managed his way on top of the other boy, using everything he had to choke Barley.
"You don't get to end this. Who else is going to love you? Do you know how hard it is to be with someone like you? You're nothing, Barley. You don't get to leave," Drew snapped. Barley could feel his lungs screaming for air, but his arms stopped working. Everything, even his voice, stopped working.
Drew was going to kill him.
"Get off of him!" a new voice, a familiar voice of Barley's favorite person, screamed and Barley saw Ian jump on top of Drew and they both fell to the side. Barley coughed as the oxygen came back to him. His vision blurred. Ian.
"Ian?" he found his voice again, but still couldn't get up. But he had to. Ian needed him. Why was he here? He couldn't protect his little brother from Drew.
"Well, what do we have here? The little Lightfoot. Ian, I'm surprised you had the nerve to do that," Drew sneered. Ian got to Barley's side and helped him sit up.
"Barley?" he asked, with wide, fearful eyes. The moment Ian touched his shirt, he saw his brother's fingertips were red. "Barley, can you hear me?"
"Y-yeah. Ian, you need to... you gotta go. Not safe," Barley managed to choke out. His head was pounding and his chest hurt. Ian glared at Drew and stood up. He brought out a splinter from his pocket.
"Magnora Gantuan."
Ian's voice was filled with rage and confidence as he used his magic to enlarge his staff. Then he held it to Drew.
"Paralos!" he yelled and stunned Barley's boyfriend. Drew hit the ground and Ian walked over and held his staff up.
"The next spell I use," he promised, "will be fatal. Don't ever come near my brother again. You don't scare me. You're just pathetic."
Then he darted to Barley's side. He helped him up to the best of his ability.
"Barley, come on, we need to get you home," he said. Barley was too stunned to think that for a moment he wondered if he got feedback from Ian's spell. He was the one that protected Ian. He kept him safe from any and everything. It wasn't Ian's job to do that.
They got to the van and Ian helped Barley in then grabbed the keys. He drove them both home and then helped Barley to his room. He got out the first aid kit and bandaged him up, all while telling him over and over it was okay.
"I told you to leave," Barley said.
"You needed me," Ian responded. He looked at his younger brother and for once, he saw the actual young man he was growing up to be. "We both know if the roles were reversed, you wouldn't have left me and you would have murdered someone."
Yeah, that checked out.
Then he saw the tears glistening in Ian's eyes.
"Ian."
His brother threw his arms around him for a hug.
"You know what he said wasn't true, right? You're the best guy I know and I just freaked out when I saw him strangling you. I thought I lost you there and-."
"Hey, I'm not going anywhere," Barley said, returning the hug. He put a hand on Ian's head and held him close.
"I know, I was just scared. I'm glad you're okay, Barley. You don't need that jerk. You're better than him in every single way."
"Thanks, Ian. I'm okay, really," Barley said. Ian still didn't let go. "That was quite the save back there."
"Well, I think we're at a point where we can protect each other, right?" Ian asked. Barley didn't respond. He didn't want Ian to risk himself for him, but he also knew Ian was growing up. Eventually, Barley would have to let go.
"I love you, Ian."
"I love you, too, Barley."
That night, Barley didn't sleep. He kept looking at the mirror in his room. Drew left marks on his neck and scars along his body. He wouldn't be able to hide this from his mom. He would have to come out and say it. He didn't tell her everything for a reason. He worried her enough.
His bedroom door creaked open and he jumped, but relaxed when he just saw that it was Ian. His brother looked over, surprised to see him awake, but came in anyway.
"Sorry, I was just checking on you. Um, not great dreams tonight," he said as he sat down beside him. Barley couldn't sleep for that reason. Though had the roles been reversed, he never would have been able to close his eyes without seeing Ian struggle. "Are you okay?"
"I'll be fine."
"Barley."
"I just... I thought he was the one, Ian," Barley confessed. "Thought he loved me and I sure as hell loved him, but it was all just a game, I guess. He never actually cared about me. He just wanted to control me and I thought he was actually going to kill me. Had you not come, I think he would have."
"He's gone, though. And he's not going to be able to hurt you again," Ian responded and wrapped an arm around Barley. "And for the record, as the person who knows you best, anyone would be lucky to have you."
"Thanks," Barley smiled, even though they both knew he wouldn't be able to let this go so easily. The two yawned.
"Can I stay here?" Ian asked. He hadn't asked something like that since they were kids. "I just... I really want to be by right now."
"Yeah, yeah, I get it."
But he had to admit, he was proud of the way Ian stood his ground. Even if something did one day happen to Barley, Ian would be able to defend himself. It did help him sleep easier that night.
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An old thing 3
First Continued from here
Look, I´m embarrassed of how I came up with something as fucked up as this. I´m very sorry to the people who read the first version of this and I do hope you´re doing ok. It´s never my intention or objective to make anyone feel wrong with the things I do. There´s a reason my art style is soft. So I send anyone who felt uncomfortable about this, an apology. However, I wanna believe I can share this under the “No matter how rough and dark, stories need to be told” And well. I failed to process not ALL parts of the story need to be told. So here´s the censored version of it.
CW// public humilliation, Degrading language, Non Con, Dub Con, NS*W at times, dehumanization, past CSA mentioned and threatened/implied, grooming, electrocution, along, slavery, human trafficking, forced breeding, blood, whump of minors, attempted murder, manhandling, muzzles, creepy and explosive whumpers, physical and emotional abuse.
Everything will be tagged and if there´s tags to be added, tell me please.
Five months later, Layo didnt wanna touch Roahn as he was disgusted to touch pregnant women. Roahn had a big bump already. A medic had come over and had done analysis to her. Apparently she was expecting twins. Two boys. Shy was handcuffed in the other side of the cell, but he couldnt decide to be happy or horrified. His master, Dánae, looked beyond pleased.
“What if we keep one? We can educate him as if he was ours. But we gotta make sure he knows his place. And maybe when he’s older we could use him”
Layo looked delighted by her plan.
“What about the other?” He had asked her.
Danae reflected, looking at no point in particular and then said with a stone cold face “we will sell him just after he doesn’t need his mother’s milk anymore”
Listening to that conversation were the medic and the two slaves. Roahn started sobbing. Quietly almost unheard.
And Shy jerked on his restraints. He had a muzzle on, restricting his talking. But his eyes showed rage.
“What? The doggy feels sad for being separated from his pup? Dont make me laugh, Shy” Layo grinned “ahh, well its just ironic for you right?” He started, Shy picking up, jerked aggressively. His muscles getting tense. “Your twin brother… I had my eyes on you for quite a while. Its a shame you were split” Layo sighed Shy stood up pulling on his restraints. Danae was amused by his reaction. Shy was, well, shy. He never showed that aggressive part of himself. And certainly, Roahn was the most amused of them.
“What were you called at the club? The two stars? Oh! The twin stars! always with your star painted on your cheek. you looked adorable. You were like 12?”
Shy stopped revolving. The stage name having an impact on him.
“Quite the performance between you two and other people” Layo laughed “Then you were sold. Alone. To that old man, what was his name? He raped you often didnt he? Before dying he told me you would scream your brothers name: Ivan.”
Shy was silent again. His legs shaking.
“Ivan and Dimitri. The twin stars. Lovely names for just two slaves born from another slave and sold to do exactly the same…” Layo paused dramatically, eyes on him. “You went full circle didnt you, Dimitri?”.
Shy/Dimitri had lost it. If there was one thing that pushed all his buttons was his past. He pulled on his chains, so much he shattered them.
Layo and Danae were just a feet away from the cell. So before the man could even react Dimitri had already grabbed his white hair.
Danae screamed and went to help his husband but he was faster and slammed his head in the floor. Danae took out a teaser and pinched Shy, who brutally convulsed on the ground.
“SHY!” Roahn yelled in her chair as the doctor held her down. Trying to convince her it was too dangerous. She looked at the man’s face as he shook his head in a no. “Ill take care of this lady” the doctor told her. She was surprised by his kindness.
The man went to stop Danae from shocking his slave any longer.
“Please miss Dourson! Stop it! Miss Dourson you’re going to kill him!” The man said grabbing her.
“Shut up!” She shoved him away, the teaser flying off her hands.
“My love…” Layo said with his bloody nose “stop it”
Danae pulled him to her not minding the blood on her dress. “Dear! He was trying to kill you!”
“Yes…he was…” Layo said putting his head backwards. When the bleeding stopped he added “I loved his face” the man spat “rage…Ah~ what an adorable expression from the pup” Danae wanted to make some sense enter his head but was stopped before that “Ill teach him a lesson Dánae, leave it to me” he said in a smirk.
-
Later that night Roahn was on their mat, stressed out about Shy. He had been taken by two men. Unconscious and limp. Her pleas fell in deaf ears.
She massaged her bump, trying to sooth her anxiety.
The door slammed and Shy walked in with bruises on his face and shackled. He was with Layo who didnt have the decency to cover his dick.
He threw him to the ground, Shy barely having time to put his hands in front.
Layo kicked him in the back making him fall for good. He sat above him and grabbed him by the collar choking him a bit.
“Never forget you’re mine, Shy. If you want to live of course” he said letting his head hit the ground. He stood up grabbing him by the arm and threw him back to the cell.
“Dont you dare try to take off the shackles woman. Or you will have his corpse instead”
The man said going away.
Roahn looked at his body, and understood what had happened in those hours.
“Sh- Dimitri…?” Roahn held his face. He gave her a sad look. Roahn felt the cold metal of the shackles on her abdomen when she hugged him.
“Im sorry baby. Im sorry. Im so glad you’re back” she cried.
“C’mere” he said, Roahn stopped and Shy passed his linked arms to her back into a hug. “Dont cry, Roahn. Im ok” he said. His bruises were purple and enormous.
“We need to run away. We need to…”
“Yes we do. But we gotta wait. Can you wait?” He told her.
She doubted.
She didn’t want to wait.
But she said yes.
-
The twins were born. One after three minutes. Three minutes where Danae took the newborn on her arms.
Shy allowed it but in his heart he wanted to kill her.
The second baby was put into his arms. He saw him and started crying. He showed him to Roahn. And told her,
“For them. Soon”
—
Destiny works in mysterious ways.
Their plan was to escape the week before Cal was put up for sale. Taking Kit and running away through the basements windows.
However the night was going down smoothly when suddenly, at the garden just beside the basement, one of the guards of the auction place beat Dimitri up and dragged them back with the baby twins on his coworkers arms.
Roahn was beaten up this time too.
When she woke up, Kit was with Danae screaming and crying loudly, as Dimitri was receiving a CPR. He came back to life but the medic guarded him for two months.
During this time, Cal was sold.
Layo told her how much.
50,000 euros.
That was how much their baby was worth.
During those nights, Roahn mourned her son. She wasnt allowed to see Kit. Or Dimitri.
She was alone. And she was desperate.
When Dimitri healed and a few scars were added to his face, he came back to her. And they hugged for their children had been stripped away from them.
But he promised this wouldn’t happen again. This time they would think it through.
And they would be free.
#whump#writing#an old thing#tw public humilliation#degrading language#tw non con#tw dubcon#suggestive#tw dehumanization#tw csa#tw implied grooming#tw electrocution#tw slavery#tw human trafficking#tw forced breeding#tw blood#tw whump of minors#tw attempted murder#tw manhandling#muzzles#creepy whumper#intimate whumper#physical abuse#emotional abuse#roahn#demetri
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