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bonefall · 4 months

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again looking over the reworked history what the hell happened with Ripwater, I wanna know. What *was* that? How did Riverclan kill it?

Oooooh, quite a request! Ripwater, Queen of the Lake, one of the episodes of BB!Po3!

Ripwater is a Wels Catfish, the largest freshwater fish in Europe. The biggest specimen EVER caught was just landed last year, in 2023, 9.4 feet long. It wasn't weighed, but smaller fish than this one have broken 300 pounds.

And it's not a good thing that we're catching so many big ones.

Wels catfish are extremely invasive across most of Europe, introduced for anglers who want to land record-setting catches. They're massive, intelligent carnivores, sometimes called the "freshwater orca" because they will lunge out of the water to catch land prey. They DESTROY the population of anything big enough to fit in its terrible mouth, including fish, amphibians, and even turtles.

They get that big from a mix of constant food and hot temperature. It's a sign that they're devastating their surroundings, and that nothing has been able to kill them for the decades it takes to get so large.

So of course, some dunderhead put them in British rivers, where they've been spreading upwards ever since. Thankfully they thrive better where it's warmer, so they're not too massive of a threat to BB's modeled regions in Northwestern England, but they're fucking coming.

Ripwater's name isn't an exaggeration. That's how they hunt. They gape their jaw and beat their fins like dragons, creating eddies and currents that suck their hapless prey in. When RiverClan names her, it's because they see her ripping the water in half. I was thinking about her recently, and came up with some new stuff. I'll take a brief break from my drafts to serve up some fragments for you.

[A gray cat with blue eyes, Lakepaw, later BB!Lakeheart, swims in bluegreen water surrounded by lilypads. Below her is the massive shadow of Ripwater, a gigantic Wels Catfish. Its eyes flash in the depths.]

SMALL RECAP OF BB!PO3: (to set the stage)

It is now a breather arc, just dedicated to some worldbuilding!

I feel pretty strongly that Po3's strength is how AWESOME of a slice-of-life arc it could have been. To this end, I removed the Kin of your Kin prophecy from it, until it's revealed only at the very end just before Cruel Season.

That's so I can focus on The Three and their adventures around the lake, without this big prophecy looming over them and making the lower-stakes conflicts look small.

Instead, the various episodes of Po3 are related to problems that their new home presents, with just a teeny bit of Sol's magical influence to spice things up.

While Lionpaw learns about the "meaning of strength" and ultimately learns a terrible lesson he will extend to his kits, and Jaypaw finds his limits and learns to prevent others from defining them for him, Hollypaw is grappling with Fire Alone and how to reconcile her grandfather's legacy with her strict dedication to the Warrior Code.

And SO we find ourselves in one of the earliest episodes of BB!Po3; Ripwater the River Demon. This is like... episode 3 or 4, it's a REALLY early one.

I'm just shuffling it around with ANOTHER RiverClan-centric episode; the Shinewater Plague. The oilspill from TNP is now going to be bumped up to Po3 so it's more about establishing Mothwing and her apprentice Willowpaw, to contrast Leafpool and her apprentice Hollypaw, before Holly swaps to being a warrior. Jaypaw completes warrior training before becoming a Cleric apprentice.

So I don't want them to be TOO close together. Maybe put Ripwater in Book 2 and have RiverClan comment that they don't really want to ask for help because of the last big event, Mistystar hates feeling indebted to ThunderClan.

After all, it could basically replace the "flood" episode from Canon Po3, which is often forgotten about anyway. I'm already having ShadowClan construct dams instead of RiverClan anyway...

ANYWAY RIPWATER

I want to start this episode off with Sol/Harry, who is unnamed, messing around near water. He has a bit of a fish motif going on that I want to establish, and I need to get him to start messing with the Clans good and early.

(Specifically his motif is going back and forth between the koi, also an invasive and notably domesticated species, and the atlantic salmon which is famous for its changing life cycle.)

The Wels Catfish is an invasive species to England, slowly making its way up the island from the South. The fish who will become Ripwater, at this point, is already HUGE but not cat-swallowing huge. She's an 80-pounder.

Sol hits her with some godly magic, which allows her to grow at a rapid rate.

The sort of thing where it wouldn't be COMPLETELY implausible. He just... helped it along.

When we get to her first true on-screen appearance interacting with RiverClan, she is nearly 300 pounds of monstrosity with a length of about 8 feet

I'm unsure how, exactly, ThunderClan comes to know of this. But I DO know that I want Hollypaw to be snooping, and heavily encouraged by her mentor Brackenfur to do so. So, somehow, SOMETHING starts going wrong across the lake and ThunderClan catches wind of it.

Thinking about it, this should probably be her first big action after swapping out of Cleric apprenticeship.

One of the few things she's missing about Clerichood is the way she could be close to Willowpaw without needing to sneak around so much. It's easier to just pass it off as "friendship" and "Clerics need to be close." Leafpool and Mothwing are a similar way.

Possibly work in that Hollypaw's also already seeing Heatherpaw in the tunnels, contrast the two things...

At this point, Hollypaw has a crush on Willowpaw, which is requited, but... it's kinda fading.

She still loves her like a friend, but she's liking Heatherpaw a lot more. It doesn't mean she doesn't CARE for Willowpaw, of course, but

Willowpaw is still IN love, and it's slowly becoming unrequited, when it didn't used to be.

And from RiverClan's POV...

The first disappearance is so sudden they have no idea what's happened. I'm planning for it to be Robinpaw.

(I go back and forth on if it's Robinpaw or Dapplepaw, but I'm leaning towards Robinpaw again, because I like Dapplenose too much to have her get killed off here.)

She went out clamming in the lake with her sisters, Lakepaw and Otterpaw, there was a swirl in the water, and that was it. She was gone.

Just like that.

She never came back up. RiverClan searched for her, following the currents, checking the shoreline, everything. It was like she vanished.

Mistystar is suspicious and doing everything in her power to figure out what happened, but... let's face it. It's the word of two apprentices, who were swimming alone, who swear Robinpaw just went under.

Misty JUST got done with the Shinewater Plague and isn't trying to make RiverClan look like it can't keep track of its own young. The most likely situation is that Robinpaw was sucked down by an undertow that the three of them were too inexperienced to recognize.

So... she's pretty adamant about not sharing this information until Robinpaw's body is found. Jaws Style. "We cannot let the other Clans be alarmed by this, else they might meddle in our affairs..."

(and she's still maybe a little paranoid that some snoop in another Clan is going to find out that Leopardstar wasn't killed by a rogue, y'know.)

I don't want it to be TOO much of a bloodbath, so I'm capping Ripwater's body count at three and just aiming for two deaths total.

I'm also going for a coincidence RiverClan is going to interpret as a pattern; this happens a lot, specifically, when they're hunting Freshwater Pearl Mussels.

Ripwater doesn't like the river as much as she likes the lake, but it has nothing to do with their clamming. They're just going to interpret it as such.

Anyway.

The next one she goes after was lucky. By some stroke, she opens her jaw, and the victim is able to grab onto something before they're sucked in. (Maybe toss in something here were it was Holly who was able to help save them.)

Since the WHOLE Po3 Apprentice Generation is going to be getting more focus, there needs to be more input from the RiverClan apprentices. Lakepaw and Otterpaw obviously need time here, but I also NEED to involve Ripplepaw, to establish how he's going to be seen as one of the strongest in RiverClan by OotS.

EDIT FROM THE FUTURE AS I FIGURED STUFF OUT:

It was Ripplepaw, Otterpaw, and their two mentors on a raft who were attacked next. They were fishing for mussels in a shallower part of the lake.

Otterpaw was tethered to the raft with a flax lead, so it wouldn't float off. Or just tugging it in her mouth. Either way she had a line.

When Ripwater attacks her, she is swallowed on the line like a worm on a hook

And it starts pulling the WHOLE RAFT down, just a crummy bundle of sticks

One of the mentors started shouting to cut the line, else it would drag all of them under, but Ripplepaw dives right down to beat its ass without telling them he's not gonna cut it

Hollypaw just rushed right in, didn't think about it, forgetting she was supposed to be trying to sneak around

Taking control as the natural leader she is, she ordered them to shut up and start pulling the opposite way

Underwater, Ripplepaw braced himself against the fish's lips, grabs Otter's tether, and YANKS

Abovewater, the adult warriors are pulling together, Holly grabs the raft and pulls too

Once their paws touch the bottom of the shallows it's over, one last HEAVE-HO and POP!

Otterpaw is FREE

And when it's finally known that the apprentices weren't mistaken, there's a monster in the water, THAT'S when the debate really starts up. Mistystar does NOT want ThunderClan meddling, and she'll already be pissed off that Hollypaw (and any OTHERS who tagged along with her, I wouldn't put it past Honeypaw to wriggle her little yellow butt into a later draft, or Lionpaw for his massive strength) witnessed something that's not her business.

There's a moment from canon I desperately want to keep; where Squirrelflight comes to fetch her daughter.

(more reason to just say this is replacing The Flood Episode from canon lmao)

It's such an interesting moment, and so forgotten. In a nutshell, Squilf is both furious and concerned that her kit went missing and meddled in another Clan's affairs, but... understands the impulse.

Because it's something she would have done.

So when she scolds Hollypaw, there's this aching feeling that she's scolding a younger version of herself. Calling her arrogant and disloyal, that an apprentice's opinions mean less, and that she needs to listen to "older and wiser" warriors within her own Clan.

In BB, I want to do something big with this. Firestar is the figurehead of Fire Alone, who encouraged Hollypaw's behavior through his deputy, Brackenfur, who he set as her mentor for a reason.

But Squirrelflight is being abused. By Brambleclaw.

This is one of the lowest points in Squirrelflight's life, and she is walking a line between self-worth, the warrior code, and her personal beliefs, just like her daughter is.

SO, since I'm already using Brambleclaw's enabling of Ashfur's physical abuse as one of the contributing factors to Hollyleaf's descent, I ALSO want to show how he acts on other characters.

Brambleclaw, Clan Culture, the pressures of their strength-obsessed social system. So it's gotta be Squirrelflight that reminds her, or even plants the seed in her head;

"What you did isn't consistent with the Warrior Code."

Maybe even have Mistystar herself state this earlier, to be echoed by Squirrelflight, offering an alternate perspective to Hollypaw. Make her realize that ThunderClan's political leanings are not universal or even popular.

But when Hollypaw comes back to ThunderClan, whoever set her to be a snoop wants her to spill the beans. This is also a big WIP part, as Hollypaw struggles with if she's going to obey or not, and I still need to set all the political "players" in this moment.

I know for sure, though, that Firestar's IMMEDIATE desire is to meddle like it's an episode of Scooby-Doo. Though he's savvy enough to be smart about how he phrases it and what actions he takes, his ultimate goal is to put his little cheeto-dust paws all over this. And Hollypaw is starting to question how appropriate that actually is.

This is where it starts to really be a rip in Holly's mind. Clans aren't JUST big, blanket groups with united opinions, they're collections of individuals. Mistystar doesn't want meddling, but Willowpaw is in danger. Otterpaw and Lakepaw went all that time without being believed, after they watched their sister die, because they're lowly apprentices like her. Squirrelflight and Brambleclaw are angry and disappointed, while Firestar and Brackenfur are secretly lathering her in praise.

Now imagine me standing in front of a big board where I'm writing ??? because there's a missing chunk here.

I need to connect THIS part to what comes next, which is where ThunderClan DOES come in and help out. Here's the thought process going on in RiverClan;

Willowpaw comes in to do something important. She adores Hollypaw, knows her value as a Cleric, and knows that StarClan can sway Mistystar.

I want her to have a couple of pieces of a vision... BUT. She decides to interpret it in a way that's convenient, and add a few details.

It's not a tooootal lie lmao. It's just 75% true.

This is the true power of Clerics, when they realize it. No one can actually challenge them without just ignoring them or stripping them of power. They are accountable to StarClan alone.

A mentor simply doesn't say this out loud to their apprentice. It's a quiet secret. And Willowpaw just realized it.

and thinking about it... this should be the thing that finally breaks the budding romance Holly and Willow had. Holly is sickened by this, when Willow confesses how she convinced RiverClan to work with ThunderClan.

But, without even being a full Warrior, the apprentice leverages her power as Cleric of RiverClan, and 200 skill points of Improv Acting, to tell them these things;

"StarClan is so angry with us that they've sent a hog to the water! It's why they've sent a ThunderClan apprentice, we must work with them to eliminate the beast that lurks in our waters. With spears and plans, we must hunt it honorably!"

(Mistystar is defensive, but it's not known why) "We haven't disobeyed StarClan in any way. We'd already accepted their help once before, when sickness drove us to weakness, and it's only let them think they can disrespect our borders as they please. This can't be the holy will of our ancestors."

"It's-- We've been disrespecting this bountiful new land that they've so generously given us. That's what the pile of shells in my dream was. Think about it! The last attack was on the shore where we collect mussels. The second attack was on a cat latched to a raft, and it was only the tether that saved them. And the first..."

IVE GOT AN IDEA, Robin, Lake, and Otter WEREN'T clamming when they were attacked. She gestures over to Lake, knowing that if she doesn't back her up, the theory crumbles.

(Otter is in the Cleric's den, unconscious.)

Lake hesitates, not wanting to lie. Willow jumps back in,

"It's why Otterpaw was attacked," does those little jazz-hands to be like 'come in bitch work with me,' "And it's why Lakepaw has to be involved in killing it, to end what she started, and appease StarClan."

Lakepaw more like I LIKE-what-you-just-saidpaw, "It's true, we were so ashamed to admit it, Mistystar, this is all MY fault, I wanted my siblings to dig up mussels, PLEASE let me atone by stabbing the fish to death"

AND AFTER THAT IT'S NOODLIN' TIME

Mistystar, begrudgingly, accepts Firestar's help, or perhaps reaches out to him. Ripwater is a "Hog in the Lake," a beast too big for them to kill honorably on their own.

ThunderClan is the ONLY Clan that uses spears, and only for boar hunts. To protect themselves and to give their quarry a quicker death.

No other Clan touches weapons for dishonor reasons, as they're heavily associated with the demon Shredtail.

I should have Willowpaw explain her half-truth to Hollypaw here, and it's where Hollypaw just... so very suddenly can't look at Willowpaw the same way.

Jaypaw would definitely face an ableist moment from someone, but it's going to have to be one of those times where he accepts that there IS a very real limit to his ability here. Spears are range-weapons and his whiskers don't reach that far. He can't tell where he's stabbing, and the water is going to make it too hard to smell where Ripwater's dangerous mouth is. He can't be chosen for this hunt.

Meanwhile Lionpaw learns from Willowpelt how to make a spear and it is one of the most satisfying things he's ever done in his life, he's like "this is so awesome oh my god i love weapons"

just gently setting up that he's going to eventually become ThunderClan's head of hunting, and also that he's a lil violent

I feel like him and Lakepaw should hit it off a little because they both think the idea of stabbing a fish in the face is super cool, only for someone to growl at them that they shouldn't be enjoying themselves so much

Maybe Blackclaw, fuck that guy

(absolute tangent but BB!Lionblaze is kind of evolving into a little dork and I love that for him. Local himbo only capable of making friends or enemies, all Clanwide opinions on him are polarized, more at 11)

THE PLAN

So how DO they kill that thing? First of all, it's all about strategy.

Immediately they started making a couple of specialized spears. Most spears they make are exclusively for boar-hunting, so they have a distinctive "lug" that prevents a boar from impaling itself down the shaft to get you.

Someone in RiverClan explains that you don't want a fish having the chance to get off a claw. If Ripwater escapes, they might not find her again until she kills someone else

The solution is that these need to be custom-made, with special claw-shaped prongs, so they're chevron ^ shapes instead of tear-drop points. They stab in, and don't pull out.

So they need to make spears from scratch, which is an intensive process, and they don't have time to waste. RiverClan doesn't want to hunt by water that has a chance of having a freshwater orca spawn and drag you in; they'll starve

And there's only so many artisans in TC that can MAKE spears. Glue, twine, shafts, blades... these are all things that take hours of labor to create.

And MORE IMPORTANTLY, they realized from the Raft Rescue that a tether, attached to a floating object, can be very useful. Each weapon has rope tied through it and is tethered to a raft-- which is even MORE intensive, RiverClan had to repurpose several nets to create so many lines, and they only own three rafts, so the rest have driftwood.

So they only have time to create 3 special water-spears, and bring in 2 modified boar-spears.

Lionpaw is like visibly disappointed he can't have one lmao

The only apprentice given a spear is... Lakepaw. And it's a boar-spear

Because she's gonna be bait. They believe the litter is cursed for their "sin" and she'll be the next target.

But still, they chum up the water near the last sighting with blood and crowfood, like hog slop, and wait.

(Heavy WIP stuff here as we get to a play-by-play I haven't fully figured out yet)

Their plan is to get it on the shore as quickly as possible.

Four cats could pull Otterpaw from its mouth, so 5 spearcats and a dozen strong warriors could pull it onto the shore. Surely.

shorely.

It comes as expected, lunging at Lakepaw. She leaps back and tries to use her spear on it, but she is NOT properly trained with it, she stabs its face, but can't break the skull

RiverClan manages to toss a net at the beast, but it's NOT heavy enough

And they managed to get LAKEPAW with it, pressing her to the beast, her spear is dropped into the water

Someone shouts that it swims like an eel, able to just reverse course unlike a REAL fish which must turn

In the panic, warriors start mobbing it.

she thrashes, and splashes and the net is barely holding her back at all

She smashes a warrior with her tail, buffs another with her powerful head

She's stabbed in her side by a ThunderClan warrior (probably Sandstorm), and she turns on the raft they're standing on, breeching and SMASHING it to bits. Lionpaw and the rest of the cats on this raft get dunked

In the water, ThunderClan cats are useless, and RiverClan cats can't properly handle spears.

Someone from RiverClan, probably Blackclaw, tries to free Lakepaw but is scooped up in Ripwater's mouth.

He's screeching and yowling and trying to hold onto its upper jaw, regularly cut off as she dives under

When Willowpelt gets her spear in, she holds onto that damn stick with her LIFE, getting swung around and dunked in the water and then going back up into the air

Thornclaw, holding the other boar-spear, aims for its tail

But it's not enough; Even with several warriors of RiverClan, five spears, a net, and the weight of the two remaining rafts, Ripwater's managing to pull them towards the depths

She's too big to bite, too large to claw, and too strong to hold down

LIONPAW TIME

He grabs the spear that Lakepaw dropped

Ripplepaw seems to zoom right passed him, running away from the fish. He thinks he must be some kind of coward, the fight's NOT OVER YET!! WE NEED TO HELP LAKEPAW

(In a later draft I might have Lionpaw be on the smashed raft, and Ripplepaw brings the spear to him before turning and bolting back to shore. Either way he doesn't explain himself)

He paddles near one of the rafts, and is pulled up onto it

Firestar calls him a WONDERFUL BOY for bringing the spear

Lionpaw mumbles something enthusiastic around the stick in his mouth, wriggles his butt, and jumps back into the water

Grabbing the net sticking to Ripwater and using it like tree bark, he pulls himself on

Bites the spear by the lug like a handle

And stabs it in like a knife

But it's already starting to pull out, too shallow

Filled with anger and resolve, he bites the shaft, and PUSHES

Harder and harder and harder until there's a crackle, the twine breaks loose, and the lug snaps

The rest of the spear slips in as if Ripwater's made of butter

Figuring that's probably deep enough, he lets go of the net, breaching the surface, sputtering and hacking

He's about to dive again to go get Lakepaw, but to his surprise, she breaks the water next to him

and then he feels the fish bump his paws

His name is called from the shore, and there's Hollypaw and Ripplepaw waving. Ripplepaw TOOK HIS SPEAR'S ROPE. Like a GUY WHO THINKS.

Now there was a team of cats on the shore, all the spent warriors who got thrown off, pulling Ripwater to the shore.

And from the feeling of slimy fish under his paws, it seemed like her fight had been all but spent.

And more cats were swimming to shore now, with the ropes attached to the other spears.

Once on the shore, they're able to discover that, tragically, Blackclaw has died. Mistystar in particular looks deeply torn by this, as their relationship was notoriously toxic. But still, he had been the father of her children, and drowned trying to save a Clanmate. She jumps up onto the massive fish, giving a speech about sacrifice, how Blackclaw and Robinpaw would be honored, and that RiverClan has learned its valuable lesson.

Ripwater was symbolic; it's the greed they had unleashed upon the lake by over-exploiting one resource. From now on, they would be respectful of StarClan's bounty. She thanks ThunderClan for helping to fulfill a prophecy, and offers that their debt be repaid by splitting the meat of the hunt.

Hollypaw, internally: "Oh she's doing that on purpose. She knows ThunderClan hates fish and it would be rude to refuse."

Firestar: "well. how could we refuse."

Sandstorm, quietly, in the distance: "easily actually ew"

CLOSING STUFF

I kinda want some kind of "epilogue festival" where the two Clans legitimately celebrate with a somewhat somber meal sharing. Some of these episodes in Po3 will result in lasting traditions and holidays that are celebrated annually.

At that little "fish festival," it works for Holly to officially break it off with poor Willow, to leave this episode off on a bit of a sad note.

This was one of the first times Lionpaw's power becomes obvious, and it's the sort of thing that wasn't really noticed. I figure it would be good for Lakepaw to ask how that lug snapped, she could barely even get the spearhead in. Lionpaw just brags and says it must be because he's SUPER STRONG.

For some reason he's just making a ton of friends whenever I write these out, I think I'm going to lean into it. Lionpaw's got friends when he's a kid lmao, starts losing them over time as he gets more violent.

It's probably because I really need a comic relief in The Three's dynamic. Hollypaw is very dramatic, Jaypaw is dealing with legitimately stressful social issues, and Lionpaw is violent. Someone has to lighten the mood up a little and it's probably because he's The California Girl himself lmao

At this fish festival he also discovers fish isn't actually that bad. Everyone's being weird about this. It's not really that slimy. It's got a strong taste but that's kinda nice, actually?

Could use some berries but like... "damn why don't we do this more often. this would go great with blackberries."

Ripplepaw: "You think so? I can taste sweetness, can I try to make it at home and tell you how it works out at the next Gathering?"

Lionpaw: "It's not hard, you just mash the berries and stew them in a little water before pouring it over your meat. I learned it from Willowpelt, she's got a mad sweet tooth."

Lakepaw: "No offense Lionpaw, but I always thought you were a total lunkhead. I never thought you'd like, cook?"

Lionpaw: "I mean not really, I'm an awful cook, I can just make simple stuff. Willowpelt's just nice enough to be patient with me, my mentor Ashfur says if I can learn something anyone can, haha."

Just a nice little moment for him.

Blackclaw is being mourned in the mortal plane, but secretly, getting a SCATHING trial up in StarClan. His death was heroic, but his ENTIRE LIFE was treacherous.

From teaching Hawkfrost to follow in his father's pawsteps, to joining him in WindClan's Civil War, and his constant arguing and undermining of Mistyfoot back when she was just a deputy trying to do the right thing.

He goes on trial for a bunch of things he did in TigerClan, too, facing his victims who took his misdeeds to their graves. He's not the only cat in RiverClan who is getting a review like this.

Leopardstar is already in the Dark Forest, and soon, Blackclaw's sent there too.

I decided to kill off Blackclaw here so he could have a VERY cool Land Mar;

(context: all Dark Forest demons now get a cool little evil playset area just for them, where they spawn into after they're thrown out of StarClan. These are called Land Mars)

It's still unnamed, but it's basically an even BIGGER Ripwater. It goes above and below the river and lakes of the Dark Forest, popping up in any body of water big enough to hold her.

#better bones au #Land Mar #Ripwater #BB!Po3 #Better Bones AU #BB!Lakeheart #BB!Willowshine #BB!Hollyleaf #Fallenleaf #Wels Catfish #I NEED to make an art tag for my partner #Gamer-the-kittypet art #THEIR SUGGESTION NOT MINE

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thelampisaflashlight · 1 year

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Some Dewdrop centric headcanons for this rainy night. Below the cut.

-Despite being a hybrid, and thus possessing attributes of both water and fire, Dew was brought up almost exclusively as a water ghoul, and only later discovered his affinity for fire when he came to the surface.

-When Rain joined the group, he was worried that Dew might resent him for taking his old position away from him, assuming that Dew had been forced to switch elements rather than doing so of his own volition.

This misunderstanding went on for some time before being cleared up by Dew himself, who was more annoyed that Rain thought anyone could tell him what to do than anything else.

-If Dew focuses hard enough, he can make water move like fire, and vice versa. He mostly does this as a party trick when he needs something to help entertain kits.

-Dew can steam things in his mouth, and it is certifiably one of the weirdest things the other ghouls have ever witnessed him doing, and that says a lot.

Swiss once asked him to put an uncooked dumpling in his mouth in order to see what would happen... What happened was that Dew did manage to cook the dumpling, but accidentally ingested some of the raw filling and made himself sick, so the results were inconclusive.

And lastly;

-Dew’s tail looks like it’s missing a chunk out of the spade, but, in reality, he just nibbled on it so much as a kit that it just kind of grew out that way.

His go-to story for how he “lost” that part of his tail, is that he got into a fight and another ghoul tore it off... but no, it was actually just baby Dew.

#Lamp rambles #shitghosting #nameless ghouls #dewdrop ghoul #rain ghoul #swiss ghoul #ghost band #the band ghost #nameless ghoul headcanons

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whiskygoldwings · 2 hours

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WHISKY'S FOXY FIC REC LIST

Okay! The promised Fox-centric fics rec list is here WOOOO! I’ve split this into complete and not complete. I did have grand plans about sorting it into genres but uh, that might be for later when I've regained the will to live... I’ve also been recommended a few I haven’t read, so have given those a section of their own. These are FOX-CENTRIC fics. … Mostly. I’ve said where the focus is more on someone else with Fox as more secondary!

THIS IS ALL HUGELY BIASED! I have my personal tastes, and know they don’t fit everyone else’s. Just because a fic isn’t on here doesn’t mean it isn’t good, and just because a fic IS on here doesn’t mean you’ll like it. I also simply haven’t read all the Fox fics out there! I’m trying to, but you folks keep writing new excellent fics and I can’t keep up! Also, I do like to occasionally do other things… Very occasionally…

Within the basic headers, none of these fics are in any particular order. Also, I HAVE ABSOLUTELY MISSED FICS. PLEASE REC ME ANY YOU THINK I HAVE MISSED. I’m intending to update this as I read more, these are just the ones I could remember/find at the moment!

I have included with the link – any ships, tags people may need to be aware of, length and a brief summary. I CLONESHIP. So yes, there's some fics with cloneshipping in here. Honestly, not anywhere near as many as I thought there would be. I have used the pairings as given by the author on the fic, so if I have missed a pairing, that's why. IF YOU THINK I HAVE MISSED SOMETHING PEOPLE NEED TO KNOW, PLEASE TELL ME. I do my best, but I’m very (very) fallible. I’d rather know and be able to fix it than not know and someone be hurt by something. (This literally goes for anything else).

If you have a fic that’s not on here and you think it should be – comment/message/ask!

With the intro over, let’s get into the meat of things!

COMPLETED FICS

Commander Fox’s Ultimate Bucket List – Blackkat

PAIRINGS: Fox/Mace Windu, Padme Amidala/Thorn/Stone, Depa Bilaba/Grey, Agen Kolar/Cody

WORDCOUNT: 27,509

TAGS: AU – Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Humour, Crack, Seduction, Murder Attempts, OTP: Anakin/Consequences, Romance, Friendship, Let Fox be a little unhinged 2kforever

SUMMARY: Fox has a second chance, a to-do list, a stolen lightsaber, and a complete willingness to give everyone around him grey hairs. Plus a Jedi Master to seduce. It's going to be a ride.

My thoughts: Y’ALL. WELCOME TO RAREPAIR HELL WITH ME. I actually tried to draw fanart for this I loved it so much. It is WONDERFUL. Hilarious. The characterisation of Fox is just brilliant.

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Our Guard (a docu-holo sponsored by the Coruscant Communications Bureau) – FortinbrasFTW

PAIRINGS:NO PAIRINGS

WORDCOUNT: 54,034

TAGS: Various original characters, Comedy, Fix-It, Dead Sheev Palpatine, that what we do in the shadows meets fox accidentally kills his boss au, mockumentary, bail and fox are bros, Crack treated seriously, no ships really in this but kit and fox are def some kind of exes, every clone deserves a droid sidekick

SUMMARY: Nonstop civilian protest duty for over a month, the senate's latest hobby seems to be getting abducted for kicks, and now he had to deal with a camdroid shaped pain-in-the-ass following his every move. The powers that be seemed to think that putting him and the rest of the Guard in some holo was the best way to work up some civilian sympathy. Well, at least there was no way his day could get any worse...

My thoughts: You all thought this list was gonna be just angst didn’t you!?! This is another, just excellent, hilarious Fox fic. Such a brilliant idea, and one I can absolutely imagine happening. Fox is so done, and his interactions with the camdroid are beautiful.

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To Be Free Once More (That’s Worth Fighting For) – Batsutousai

PAIRINGS: Fox/Obi-Wan Kenobi

WORDCOUNT: 154,695

TAGS: AU – Canon divergence, Fix-it, Qui-Gon Jinn Lives, Jedi Shadow Investigator Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi culture and tradition, Jedi appreciation, Coruscant Guard Troopers Deserve better, Force-sensitive Clone Troopers, Protective clone troopers, Clone trooper mistreatment, Clone trooper and Jedi relationships, Institutional Abuse, Discrimination, Strangers to friends to lovers, Trans clone troopers, nonbinary clone troopers, Nonbinary Jedi characters, Sheev Palpatine being an asshole, Character death, Palpatine and some Corries die onscreen, Implied/referenced character death, Deaths of original Jedi characters are reference, The young of Melida/Daan, Clone trooper Inhibitor chips, Force-sensitive Fox

SUMMARY: As a Jedi Shadow, Obi-Wan hadn't expected to have much to do with the clone troopers. Until, suddenly, he does.

My thoughts: I uh… I already broke my own rules for this list… Oops! I’m really not sorry for it though… Obi-Wan is the central character in this, with Fox as a secondary character. However the handling of Fox and Obi-Wan’s building relationship, and the way Obi-Wan interacts with the clones/the Corries is wonderful. This is a freaking excellent story. I’m breaking the rules to recommend you something you should ABSOLUTELY read.

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Operation: Don’t Wake The Commander – AlleyMoslof

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 7,034

TAGS: Fox needs a hug, Tired Fox, Fox deserves better, These shinies are dedicated, Coruscant Guards, Let Fox sleep, Fix-it, Thorn is Chaos Personified, The Guard has no impulse control, Fox is a good bro, the adoption genes are strong with the Guard, Fox IS the Guard’s impulse control

SUMMARY: “So basically, Commander Thorn ordered you to make sure Commander Fox slept a decent amount and didn’t give you any restrictions as to how to do this.”

The shiny looked up from the ‘pad to smirk at him, “sir, yes, sir.”

My thoughts: Just adorable! This is so sweet! Those Shinies sure are dedicated, and Fox gets a well-deserved nap. *heart*

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And I Did It My Way – Miyaji_08

PAIRINGS: Fox/Quinlan Vos

WORDCOUNT: 23,039

TAGS: Hurt/Comfort, Fox Needs a Hug, Coruscant Guard troopers need hugs, Coruscant Guard troopers get hugs, Coruscant Guard troopers as family, Quinlan Vos needs a hug, Protective Quinlan Vos, Ferus Olin needs a hug, Ferus Olin gets a hug, Quinlan and Fox think they’re in a murder mystery but really it’s a comedy, The best way to get away with crime is to completely forget how and why you did it, Clone troopers and Jedi as found family, Obi-Wan Kenobi needs a drink, Protective clone troopers, Protective Jedi, Coruscant Guard troopers deserve better.

SUMMARY: Commander,” High General Windu says, brows raised in suspicion. “This is the Chancellor’s office holo, is it not? May I speak with him?”

Fox stares at the general, and then down at the black smudge on the floor where Palpatine’s body used to be. Slowly, subtly, he shifts so he’s standing on top of it.

“Uh,” he says. “…No.”

My thoughts: This is angtsy, and wonderful, and Fox is so tired and his characterisation is brilliant.

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Galaxy-Saving Memes – musicmillennia

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 3,152

TAGS: Memes, Social media, chatfic, Fix-it, crack, humour, whump, Fox needs a hug, and he GETS one plot twist, they all get one!!, unhealthy coping mechanisms, trauma, reconditioning, mind control.

SUMMARY: You can only access the page if you're GAR. The Coruscant Guard decides to infiltrate it because they are tired of being ignored, and honestly? Their memes are way better.

Or, the Guard saves millions of lives through stupid internet posts.

My thoughts: BRILLIANT. HILARIOUS. The Guard are so nonchalant about the shit they’re dealing with that they turn it into memes. *chefs kiss*

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Their Days are Darker – always_a_slut_for_hc

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORD COUNT: 23419

TAGS: Clone troopers deserve better, hurt/comfort, abuse, Fox needs a hug, Wolffe is a little shit, Whump, AU – canon divergence, Dehumanization, Gaslighting, GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE

SUMMARY: After the death of ARC Trooper Fives, an altercation at 79's leads Wolffe to spend his leave snooping around the Coruscant Guard. Fox assumes he'll drop it and leave the Corries to their fate; it's what everyone else has done.

He is very, very wrong.

My thoughts: One of my all-time favourite Fox whump fics. I have re-read this several times. It does hurt, it is painful, but it does get better. Love it.

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Commander Fox is Completely Fine – Maddy_B

PAIRINGS: Fox/Quinlan Vos

WORD COUNT: 275,029

TAGS: GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE. RAPE/NON-CON. Fox needs a hug, Tired Fox, Fox whump, Coruscant Guards, Slow burn, Dissociation, Panic attacks, Gender dysphoria, Body dysphoria, Dysphoria, Explicit sexual content, Slavery, Implied/referenced rape/non-con, all explicit sexual content in this fic is consensual, Bad parent Jango Fett, Implied/referenced torture, Mild gore, Blood and gore.

SUMMARY: Cody was still staring at him. Fox wasn't sure what made him keep talking.

"It's always the shinies who think they're invincible," he muttered, "who think they're above the rules."

Cody nodded slowly.

"Yeah," he said, voice a little hoarse, "that's usually how I lose them too."

Fox watched as his little brother finished the rest of his drink and stared down into his empty cup.

It wasn't the same, he wanted to say. That's a battlefield, this is the centre of the Republic, it's different. The truth is that it's not as different as it should be.

My thoughts: This is a long haul fic folks, but it is deliciously worth it. The angst/whump is very real. The comfort is also very real. Fox and Quinlan are plonkers who eventually get their acts together. There’s wonderful interactions with Fox and Padma, Bail and Riyo. Wonderful fic.

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Do-Over – TooManyTeeth

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORD COUNT: 109,352

TAGS: CREATOR CHOSE NOT TO USE ARCHIVE WARNINGS. Time travel fix-it, Fox needs a hug, Depression, Suicidal thoughts, Hurt/comfort, Brotherly love, Cuddling and snuggling, Blood and gor, Torture, Palpatine is a giant asshole, Fox gets better I promise, Abuse, The Coruscant Guard collectively need a hug, Fox needs a nap, Non-consensual kissing, Non-consensual touching, Friendship, Medical inaccuracies, Unintentional betrayal, Fox gets a hug

SUMMARY: Fox made a mistake. Fox was punished. Fox died. Fox woke up.

My thoughts: Oh the hurt and angst is very real with this one folks. So is the comfort though. Eventually! An excellent story, painful to read in places, but beautifully done. I’m very excited for the sequel!

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With Nothing to Lose, There’s Everything to Go – Batsutousai

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORD COUNT: 4,706

TAGS: Clone troopers deserve better, Clone trooper-centric, Abusive Sheev Palpatine, Past abuse, Abandonment, Fox needs a hug, Fox gets a hug, Fix-it, Unhealthy coping mechanisms, PTSD, Little bit of hurt/Lots of comfort, Family reunions, Protective siblings

SUMMARY: The end of the war arrived, but nothing changed for the Coruscant Guard.

My thoughts: If you need something to just make you feel a little bit better about the world, give this fic a read. Lovely one-shot. Lots of feels.

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Commander Fox’s Guide to Touring Coruscant – KakashiKrazy256

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORD COUNT: 7,910

TAGS: CREATOR CHOSE NOT TO USE ARCHIVE WARNINGS. Hurt/comfort, Bros being bros, Dialogue heavy, Fox needs a hug, And he’ll get one, Fox’s brothers telling him he matters and he short-circuits, Ponds is alive because I said so, Injury

SUMMARY: The painkiller he had been giving just half an hour prior is still working fine, leaving him relatively...alright. Nothing hurts particularly bad, but there’s a fuzziness layered over everything, making it hard to think too hard on anything beyond the first thoughts running through his head.

Go inside. Find the rest. Sit down. Drink. Don’t say anything stupid. Don’t get caught. And...and just be there to properly enjoy the company of his brothers.

Don’t forget these memories.

Fox gets injured but decides to keep it secret for the sake of his batchmates. For the prompt 'is that a bloodstain?!'

My thoughts: Lovely fic. The interactions between Fox and his brothers are just wonderfully well-written. And Fox’s pain throughout is thoughtfully done.

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Foxhunt – OysterTori

PAIRINGS: Pre-slash Bacara/Fox. Side pairings of: Ponds/Mace Windu, Thorn/Cody, Echo/Fives/Rex, Bly/Aayla Secura

WORD COUNT:14,406

TAGS: Hurt Fox, Fox needs a hug, Coruscant Guard troopers as family, Coruscant Guard and GAR, BAMF Fox, Mind manipulation, Coruscant Guard loves Fox, Protective Coruscant Guard troopers, Sheev Palpatine being an asshole, Palps dies off screen because fuck him, Fox got to murder him as a treat, All clones have a competency kink, Bacara has the biggest though, Fox gets a hug, Trans clone troopers, Clone trooper reconditioning

SUMMARY: Fox has to flee after killing the Chancellor and as the events unfold he gets hunted across Coruscant by CorSec (not something to worry about) and the GAR (something to worry about).

But his Corries have his back, as always. They won't let someone take their ori'vod away from them.

My thoughts: … Honestly I just love that Fox is a BAMF MF and everyone wants him in this! From memory, I think the story actually focuses on other characters a lot more than Fox, but it’s brilliant anyway!

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It’s fine. I’m fine. Everything is fine – cats_and_dr_pepper

PAIRINGS: Depends on which chapters, but Fox/Thorn.

WORD COUNT: 62,395

TAGS: CREATOR CHOSE NOT TO USE ARCHIVE WARNINGS. GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE. Fox needs a hug, Fox whump, Protective Fox, Tired Fox, Fox deserves better, Fox needs a nap, Protective Cody, Cody’s name is Kote, Cody is so smart, Injury, Manipulative Sheev Palpatine, Sheev Palpatine being an asshole, Clone medics are scary, Angst, Whump, Coruscant Guards, Coruscant Guard needs a hug, Self-indulgent, WIP, One-shot collection, Din Djarin cameo, Parental Jaster Mereel, Force ghost Jaster Mereel, Eldritch, Angst and hurt/comfort, Hurt/comfort, Hurt no comfort, Character death, Suicide attempt, grief/mourning, Crack, hijinks and shenanigans, Graphic descriptions of injuries, Order 66

SUMMARY: WIP AND ONESHOT COLLECTION

My thoughts: I could recommend pretty much all of this author’s library, but I’m trying to limit it a little! While this is a collection of one shots, they’re just beautiful. I am particularly fond of Chaps 4 and 6/7. Folks, mind those tags and the chapter specific summaries.

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Trich – cats_and_dr_pepper

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORD COUNT: 1,328

TAGS: Angst, Whump, not too bad though, Trichotillomania, Fox needs a hug, Fox-centric, Fox whump, Sad Fox, Hair-pulling, in the least sexy way, Body focused repetitive disorder

SUMMARY: It was easy. It was easy to do. Any time Fox needed an extra… something to deal with the day on Kamino, he’d pull a hair. Never from the same place, never more than one, but for some reason, it helped. He didn’t quite know how or why, but the little stab of pain, the sound of the pluck through his skull, how sometimes the whole root sheath would slide out—it was something he could do.

On Coruscant, it gets out of control.

My thoughts: Look, I know I LITERALLY JUST SAID I was going to limit myself, but I have to rec this one. It holds a special place in my heart. I’ve had dermatillomania all my life. The two conditions are very related, and this whole fic spoke so much to me. Beautifully done depiction of the condition. My thanks to the author for this.

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Corrie Red – musicmillennia

PAIRINGS: None

WORD COUNT: 24,294

TAGS: GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE. Lovecraftian Monsters, Eldritch Coruscant Guard, Horror, Body horror, Blood, Blood drinking, Gore, Non-linear narrative, Implied/referenced mind control, Manipulation, Angst, Fix-it, Cannibalism, No one is helping the Guard so they help themselves, With their new limbs, The Corries can have a little murder as a treat, Vomiting, Self-harm, Codependency, Temporary character death, Unreliable narrator, Protective Fox, Protective Coruscant Guard

SUMMARY: A Sith opens a Door and keeps it open. Something else slithers through, and it likes the Coruscant Guard. The Coruscant Guard likes it too.

My thoughts: DO YOU LIKE ELDRITCH HORROR!?! Boy have I got the fic for you then!!! Super excellent, wonderful body horror. Very creative, the descriptive language is beautiful. There are several more sidestories and a sequel in the works as well, which I highly recommend. This is the fic that made me love Eldritch Guard!

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But Still, Bless Me Anyway – bitebackbaby

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 52,977

TAGS: CREATOR CHOSE NOT TO USE ARCHIVE WARNINGS. AU- Murderbot Diaries fusion, canon-typical violence, Canonical character death, Clone trooper mistreatment, Clone trooper reconditioning, Clone trooper decommissioning, Coruscant Guard troopers-centric, Coruscant Guard VS GAR rivalry, Coruscant Guard troopers deserve better, Coruscant Guard troopers need hugs, Fox whump, Fox deserves better, Fox needs a hug, Eventual happy ending, Angst with a happy ending

SUMMARY: CG-Unit 1010 is functioning at perfectly normal parameters. It obeys orders. Enforces the law. It is not afraid of the Masters that bought it. It does not mourn the Units that fail to measure up to their exacting standards. The Behavioral Chip does not allow such aberrant behaviors.

GAR Units are given many allowances. Fox wonders, sometimes, exactly when they will face the consequences of that.

(aka: built and deployed on coruscant, the cybernetic constructs known as the coruscant guard come face to face with the rest of the galaxy, and begin to notice some discrepancies.)

My thoughts: The utter GENIUS of combining the CG with SecUnits. This is absolutely amazing. It’s not kidding about the eventual happy ending, there’s some grief to come first. YOU SHOULD ABSOLUTELY READ THIS FIC. Even if you know nothing about the Murderbot Diaries. You need not have read the Murderbot Diaries, but just so you know, YOU SHOULD.

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Tachy – postapocalyptic_cryptic

PAIRINGS: NONE WORDCOUNT: 1,806

TAGS: Whump, platonic cuddling, Protective Wolffe, Fox needs a hug, Fox whump, Tachycardia, Panic attacks, Exhaustion, Protective siblings, Order 66 happened differently, Post-war, AU, PTSD, Tired Fox

SUMMARY: “Come on, Fox, head between your knees. You know the drill.” As gently as possible, Wolffe pushes Fox upright and helps him arrange himself in an approximation of the recovery position. He’s gasping and shaking and, now that Wolffe has his hands on him, burning up. “There you go,” Wolffe murmurs, keeping one hand on Fox’s head, carding through his hair, and using the other to comm medbay. “Deep breaths, Fox’ika.”

The war is over, but Fox is far from out of the woods.

My thoughts: Short fic with Fox suffering the aftereffects of everything? Yes pls!

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Finding the Way Back – slotmachines_fearofgod

PAIRINGS: Implied Fox/Quinlan Vos

WORDCOUNT: 7,122

TAGS: CREATOR CHOSE NOT TO USE ARCHIVE WARNINGS. Angst and hurt/comfort, the comfort is minimal, Fox needs a hug, Coruscant-Guard troopers-centric, Protective Fox, Protective Wolffe, Fox needs a nap

SUMMARY: Wolffe stops by the Coruscant Guard complex to pick up some unruly members of the 104th, and tries to reconnect with Fox. Certain things are revealed that set off some warning bells for Fox's batchmates

My thoughts: I love Wolffe and Fox interactions. I headcanon them being close brothers, so it makes me very happy! Wolffe’s not going to let this go Fox…

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I’ve been sent up and I’ve been shot down – always_a_slut_for_hc

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 1,919

TAGS: Hurt/comfort, Implied/referenced self-harm, Touch-starved, Imprisonment, Solitary confinement, Fox needs a hug

SUMMARY: After the court martial, they put Fox away.

Just - put him away, up on a shelf like a little toy soldier. He’d laugh, if it wasn’t so fitting. They created him to do a job and he went out and did it and now they were done with him.

My thoughts: I love this fic, and basically all of the Febuwhump 2022 collection. There’s a follow up to this as well. It’s angsty folks, but SO GOOOOOD.

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Up In Our Bedroom (After The War) – lux_arcana

PAIRINGS: Queerplatonic Fox and Thorn

WORDCOUNT: 4,690

TAGS: AU – canon divergence, Dead Sheev Palpatine, Post-war, Autism spectrum, Autistic burnout, PTSD, Fox needs a hug, Fox gets a hug, Stimming, Queerplatonic relationships, Therapy, Jedi culture and tradition, Clone trooper culture, Mind control aftermath and recovery, Emotional hurt/comfort

SUMMARY: In this strange new world that Fox got to live in, he woke up safe, warm, and comfortable. Everything around him was soft, muffled, heavy. He rolled over and moved into an even warmer spot, and stretched out languidly, as cat-like a behavior as he had ever done. Without opening his eyes, he knew exactly where he was. Kamino was not safe, warm, or comfortable. The Guard Barracks, though safe, were not warm, and the only comfort they had was each other. But here -

In the Temple, he was always warm, and he was always safe, and he was almost always comfortable. His bed was soft. It was comfortable. And, as he moved into the spot Thorn had just vacated, it was warm.

“Go back to sleep,” Thorn’s soft voice whispered, and Fox did what he did best; he obeyed.

(Fox, Thorn, and the rest of the Guard, after the war.)

My thoughts: I love this fic. I love the gentleness of it. I love the pain of it. I love the recovery.

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Gar Shuk Meh Kyrayc – MageOfCole

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 1,553

TAGS: Sleep deprivation, Exhaustion, Fox needs a hug, Cody is a good bro, Cody is a little shit, Thorn is a good bro, Fox needs sleep, Clone troopers deserve better, Touch-starved Fox, Sheev Palps being an asshole, Clone troopers speak Mando’a, Mandalorian clone troopers, hurt/comfort, whump

SUMMARY: (you're no use dead)

Fox has barely slept in the last month, only enough to function in his tasks; he’s exhausted, and sore, and tired, but he has work to do. It’s his duty to always be there, ready and willing to take orders, but - Prime's tits - he's so tired.

My thoughts: I love fics where Fox’s brothers come in and make him sleep. Short, angtsy fic where Fox gets to take a good, long nap.

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Reset Restart Repeat Repose – KairaKara101

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 15,641

TAGS: CREATOR CHOSE NOT TO USE ARCHIVE WARNINGS. Fox needs a hug, Protective Fox, Tired Fox, Fox whump, Coruscant Guard troopers as family, Coruscant Guard troopers-centric, Protective CG, hurt/comfort, Emotional hurt/comfort, Angst, CG troopers deserve better, CG troopers need hugs, Manipulative Sheev Palps, Clone trooper reconditioning, Clone trooper decommissioning, Mind Manipulation, Clone trooper inhibitor chips, Clone trooper mistreatment, Clone troopers speak Mando’a, Isolation, Amputation, Mental instability, Mental breakdown, Mental anguish, Identity issues, Loss of identity

SUMMARY: CC-1010 held a secret that none of his current batchmates, squad mates, guard vode, and vode knew about. He’d rather take that secret to his death and beyond.

My thoughts: A really interesting look at Fox having to continually reset himself. The whump is fierce with this one.

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No One Worth Remembering – RMWrites

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 1,709

TAGS: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH. AU, Lies, Posing as someone else, Implied/referenced character death, Manipulative Sheev Palps, Thorn and Pals are in the background, Order 66 didn’t happen, Fox deserved better, Hurt no comfort, Angst, The happy ending is only for some people, Fox needs a hug, Implied/referenced suicide

SUMMARY: Fox the Original, as he called him, had gone MIA on a mission for the Chancellor a year and a half into the war. To keep the pretense of normalcy- for losing a Marshal Commander on the “safe” posting of Coruscant would cause far too much public panic- the replacement Commander had donned the painted armor of the late Fox, took up his name and number, and studied the plethora of reports left behind to mimic his voice.

He was Commander CC-1010 "Fox"- the ninth to hold that name.

My thoughts: I LOVE this idea and I love this fic. This idea is just fantastic, and I highly recommend you go read it!

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The Guard Are (Not) Fine – redhairedmuses

PAIRINGS: Fox/Quinlan, Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Bly/Aayla Secura

WORDCOUNT: 14,419

TAGS: GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE. Heavy angst, Angst, Angst and tragedy, Angst and hurt/comfort, Implied/referenced torture, Implied/referenced abuse, canon-typical violence, Mental breakdown, Fox whump, Fox needs a hug, Protective Fox, Fox is a good liar, Alcohol, Protective Cody, Minor character death, Creepy/manipulative Sheev Palps, Dissociation, Fox has issue, and he blatantly ignores them.

SUMMARY: In his service to the Coruscant Guard, Fox had learned to become a very good liar. Some would argue one of the best.

But how long can he keep lying to himself?

aka. the corrie guard deal with a lot of shit on coruscant and no one really does anything about it.

My thoughts: Yeah, we all know I love a good bit of Corrie angst. Here’s a delicious one.

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CHTHONIC – catboydogma

PAIRINGS: Fox/Quinlan Vos

WORDCOUNT: 17,062

TAGS: GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE. Meet ugly, Getting together, Let Fox say FUCK, Anti-clone prejudice, Fluff, Angst, Whump, Emotional hurt/comfort, hurt/comfort, Canon-typical violence, Gore, Corpses, Mind control, Mind control aftermath and recovery, Enemies to co-workers to lovers, Worldbuilding, Planet Coruscant, CG, Coruscant Underworld, Coruscant’s Haunted, Horror elements, Falling in love, Fix-it, AU – canon divergence, Order 66 didn’t happen, Past torture, Referenced decommissioning

SUMMARY: Not even two days later, Fox revised his opinion. This wasn’t a disaster. This was a Grade-A, first order, fresh off the hot plate fuckfest. Fox’s day had gone something like this: lay in bed. Get up. Knock back some of the sludge in the mess masquerading as caf. Go through forms. Fill out forms. Bust open a closet in which the Senators for Uyter and Kinyen had both managed to get “stuck” in. Go through more forms. Fill out more forms. Get called up to the Senate dome to tell a Senator that no, the Guard did not address noise complaints. Find that the stack of datapads on his desk had somehow tripled over the last two hours. Despair at the state of his inbox. Etcetera, etcetera. And then.

My thoughts: YEEEEES DEEEELIIIICIOUS!

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Red Like My Dreams – Quarra

PAIRINGS: Fox/murder

WORDCOUNT: 8,637

TAGS: GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE, AU – canon divergence, Blood and gore, Serial killer!Fox, Attempted murder, So much attempted murder, Murder, Unhinged!Fox, Fix-it of sorts, Fives lives, Sith flirting, Happy ending, Humour, Unhealthy relationships, Unhealthy coping mechanisms, Torture, Crack treated seriously

SUMMARY: Fox wants to murder his boss so badly that he can taste it. The problem is that fucking Sheev is a difficult person to kill. That’s fine. Fox is a stubborn bastard. He can follow his heart and achieve his dreams. He just has to work at it.

or,

The one where (nearly) everyone is worried and Fox is (more than a little bit) unhinged.

My thoughts: UNHINGED FOX GETTING HIM SOME SITH-DAMNED MURDER. *chef’s kiss*

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Commander Fox’s Rules for Shinies – sleebyama

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 3,736

TAGS: GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH. Brothers, Brotherly bonding, Fox is a good bro, Ori’vod Fox, CG Dogma, Implied/referenced rape/non-con, Implied/referenced character death, Implied/referenced Abuse, Fluff and angst, Fox needs a hug, Clone trooper decommissioning

SUMMARY: Shinies are always the first to laugh at his rules.

Those who laugh are usually the ones that learn the hardest lessons.

My thoughts: Hey folks, do you like those fanon headcanons about the abused Guard? Do you like Corrie Dogma, OC shinies, and Fox adopting the shit out of people? HAVE I GOT A STORY FOR YOU!

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Don’t Ever Utter Those Words Again, I’m Begging You – Mamuzzy

PAIRINGS: Fox/Thorn

WORDCOUNT: 982

TAGS: Hurt/comfort, Injury recovery, Established relationship, Married couple, Riduurok/Mandalorian marriage traditions, Anxiety, Overprotective Fox, Cloneshipping, Whump, Crying, Art included

SUMMARY: Thorn was injured in one of his mission on Coruscant and Fox feels guilty about it.

My thoughts: Oh Thorn is so wonderfully sweet and honest! Also, THE ART! I love it so much!

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Full Body High – menphina

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 6,231

TAGS: Angst, Hurt/comfort, Angst with a happy ending, Trans clone troopers, Trans Fox, Trans female character, Fox needs a hug, Fox gets a hug, Internalized transphobia, Implied/referenced transphobia, Gender dysphoria, Panic attacks, Clone trooper dehumanization, Fox deserves better, Protective Fox, Order 66 didn’t happen, Clone trooper decommissioning.

SUMMARY: Fox looks in the mirror as he washes his hands, and there’s a lurch deep in his gut.

He doesn’t know why.

It’s his own face staring back at him, hair regulation-short, a bit of scruff around his jaw, a few grizzly scars. He runs his hand across his chin. It feels like someone else’s.

He looks away.

My thoughts: I love this fic. I love how gently Cody handles things when the command batch realise what’s happening. I subscribe heavily to the likelihood that there are trans/non-binary clones, and they deserve to have their stories heard.

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In Lieu of Flowers – kakashikrazy256

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 7,418

TAGS: CREATOR CHOSE NOT TO USE ARCHIVE WARNINGS. Angst, Hurt/comfort, hugs, Wolffe needs a hug, Fox needs a hug, PTSD, Malevolence arc, bad treatment of clones

SUMMARY: “We asked for funds. It wasn’t a lot. Just, just enough for a salvage mission. To get the bodies of some vode back. Or a memorial announcement, at the very least something.”

“The General got a response yesterday, from the Senate. They...they said it wasn’t in the budget. Fox, I—I’ve always known but to...to read it...we’re fucking expendable. We always have and always will be.”

Fox knows. He knows because he had been the one to draft the response and send it to Plo Koon yesterday morning.

After the destruction of Plo Koon's fleet to the Malevolence. Wolffe and the rest of the survivors are sent to Coruscant to determine their fate. Fox is there to pick up the pieces of his brother.

My thoughts: Hey folks? This one HURTS. It’s brilliant, but it’s painful.

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A Taste of Freedom (Only Makes it Hurt All The More) – MagicalStardust

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 2,104

TAGS: Fluff and angst, starts off peaceful and then the agonies start, mentions of abuse, Fox-centric

SUMMARY: Fox gets some rare time off-world and realises how good life can be, that maybe he's meant for something other than dying in an alleyway in the depths of Coruscant.

Of course, his freedom must come to an end.

My thoughts: This is so sweet, and then so painful…

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Learning Solitude – here_be_bec

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 4,088

TAGS: Fox whump, Emotional/Psychological abuse, Physical abuse, Fox needs a hug, Manipulative Sheev Palps, Hurt no comfort, Abuse of authority, Isolation

SUMMARY: It's a gradual, insidious thing, Fox's absorption into the Chancellor's office. The Chancellor wants a clone commander of his own, so he gets one. All Fox gets is a position far away from his brothers, a lesson in how to work around natborns who detest his very existence, and a seemingly endless list of monotonous jobs to keep him occupied through all his waking hours and beyond.

Fox misses Kamino.

My thoughts: OH THIS ONE HURTS SO GOOD. It’s brutal, it’s ruthless. It poses the question of what if Fox was isolated from the CG the way the CG is fanon isolated from the GAR and it answers it in such a cruel, wonderful way. Take the hurt no comfort seriously though folks.

-------

Our Deepest Condolences – Hasta_la_vista_byebye

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 1,343

TAGS: AU – Everyone lives/Nobody dies, Mace Windu is so done, POV Fox, POV Mace Windu, A full on Corrie Guard fic with no hurt at all, Non-binary Fox, Fix-it, Crack, ALL THE CRACK, Palps gets eaten by a Zillo beast

SUMMARY:After the Chancellor's death, tragically eaten by the Zillo Beast, the grieving Republic holds a funeral ceremony in honor of their regretted leader.

But not everybody attending is in the mood for mourning. In fact, the Coruscant Guard feels pretty great.

My thoughts: LET’S BRING BACK THE CRACK! Hilarious. Love it. Mace wants to put his head in his hands and laugh. A little humour after all the previous recs angst!!!

------

A Flint and a Fire – Meshurkaan

PAIRINGS: Fox/Rex, Jesse/Kix, one-sided Rex/Fives

TAGS: Training on Kamino, friends to lovers, First kiss, First time, Canon-typical violence, Post-first battle of Geonosis, Canon temporary character death, Clone trooper inhibitor chips, Cloneshipping, Fix-it, Everybody lives, endgame Fox/Rex/Fives but that is later in the series, POV Rex, Not canon-compliant: The Bad Batch, A little bit of Mando’a, Drinking games, Clone trooper shenanigans, Drunken shenanigans, Fox’s bad taste in holodrams, Some angst

SUMMARY:Rex was engineered to be a perfect soldier, yet no amount of training could have prepared him for what he’d face on the battlefield (and off of it).

My thoughts: Oh look! I’m breaking my own rules again!!! The main POV in this is Rex, but Fox features heavily and HOLY SHIT YOU GUYS JUST GO FREAKING READ THIS FIC. I can’t WAIT for the endgame Fox/Rex/Fives!!! This is all SO DELICIOUS!

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All Of Life Is But a Game (And I’m Winning) – rook (jsunday)

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 16,582

TAGS: Coruscant Guard, Clone troopers deserve better, Clone troopers need hugs, Engineers, And that is a WARNING.

SUMMARY: It had started, as these things tended to do, with a bad idea at 79's. When it came to the telling, there were as many variations of who was there as there were batches on Kamino, but most clones generally agreed on a core group: Quorum, an engineer with the 212th, with ideas bigger than the GAR budget allowed; Harris, logistics officer in the Coruscant Guard, who had more contacts than the city planet had levels; and Ponds, commander of the 91st, who had never met a bad idea he couldn't make worse, and held the power to sign forms permitting it.

In which an idea is had, and two million clones run with it. So much bangcorn is eaten.

My thoughts: Look, maybe Fox isn’t the ONLY focus in this one, but he plays a starring role damnit!!! And there’s an EXCELLENT follow up which focuses on him and the Guard! This is wonderful, humorous, and the clones basically create themselves secret sports festivals and art galleries. Somehow, this will save the Galaxy… IT’S AMAZING.

-------

Blame – Jaigeye

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 862

TAGS: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH. Canonical character death, Grief/mourning, Whump/Angst, Character study, Introspection, Tragedy, Fox thinks about his choices, Clone trooper Culture

Summary: Thorn is dead. Fox isn't- at least not yet.

My thoughts: This hurts, in a dark, hopeless way. This and it’s follow-up fic are just excellent. Really well-written. Highly recommend.

-----

Category 5 Shitstorm – cats_and_dr_pepper

PAIRINGS: Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi

WORDCOUNT: 6,987

TAGS: Hijinks and shenanigans, Crack, Fox needs a nap, He technically gets one, Fox is so done, Mace Windu is so done, Fox and Thorn are not romantically together, it’s all a joke on Thorn’s part, Fake marriage, Grizzer is a good girl

SUMMARY: Fox clutched his cup of caf desperately in his gloveless hand. He still didn’t know where his vambrace was. Someone (Stone? Unclear.) was wearing his armor, and whoever it was didn’t have his vambrace comm either. He took a loud, slurping sip, and spat it back out immediately, directly back into the cup. Was this decaf? Disgusting. His day was getting worse.

“How,” he said, looking at each of the vagrants in front of him, “the fuck did this happen?”

My thoughts: OKAY. A THIRD ONE. I’M SORRY. But a, I promised I’d rec this one, and b, IT’S HILARIOUS Y’ALL. GO FREAKING READ IT.

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The Graveyarder – Trixree

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 10,697

TAGS: GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE. CG Dogma, CG centric, Post-Umbara Arc, Clone trooper reconditioning, Psychologicial horror, Psychological trauma, Memory loss, Sith are Eldritch horrors change my mind, Eventual happy ending, Canon-typical violence

SUMMARY: They call them the graveyarders.

They shuffle off of the transport, armor scrubbed shiny white and new, brains scrubbed just as clean. They move aimlessly, startle when spoken to, and don’t answer to any name other than trooper. They are the dead walking, coming back from the grave, and they aren’t the vod they were.

My thoughts: This fic is just excellent. I love it so much.

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“May Those Who Defy Their Fate- - independent_variables

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 4,276

TAGS: Dialogue heavy, canonical character death, Angst with a happy ending, Guilt, Fix-It of sorts, Brotherhood

SUMMARY: Three days after Fives died, Kote visited Fox.

***

―be granted glory.”

My thoughts: Excellent, short but sweet.

------

Sacrifice – cats_and_dr_pepper

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 10,050

TAGS: GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE. Character death, Suicidal actions, Angst, Whump, Grief/mourning, Hurt no comfort, Clone trooper inhibitor chips, Mind control, Mind control aftermath and recovery, Unwilling sacrifice, Fox kills Palps, Manipulative Pals, Pals being an asshole, Protective Cody, Suicide attempt, Fox knows he’s going to die and damn it he’s going to get what he wants, Plo Koon is doing his best, Thire where did you get that slugthrower, Order 66, Order 66 Fix-it, End-of-life care, Vokara Che is so done

SUMMARY: Fox heard running footsteps from outside the office, getting closer and closer. He listened to the buzzing hum of several lightsabers and plastoid shuffling. There was a small army of Jedi and GAR outside the door, and Fox knew what he and his brothers would be used for.

Meat shields if they were lucky, executioners if they weren’t—and given that they still had their minds, he suspected it would be the latter.

“How could this happen…” Fox watched Kenobi whisper. “How could we forget?” .

“Ah, but letting them kill themselves would be too easy. It’s annoying when my little toys break themselves too early. Though, it is fun when it’s on my orders.” No, no, please, no. “Commanders, execute Order 66.”

Or, it's difficult when you realize that your actions have consequences. Permanent ones.

My thoughts: Folks, the tags are NOT MESSING AROUND. This is dark, and it’s painful. It’s also, fucking excellent. And something I could absolutely imagine Palps doing. You should read it.

-------

The Cadaver Remains – menphina

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 1,622

TAGS: Suicidal thoughts, Suicidal ideation, Depression, Angst, Heavy angst, Hurt/comfort, Fox needs a hug, Fox gets a hug, Fox needs therapy, (Fox does not get therapy)

SUMMARY: Fox was fine, most days. He went on patrols, chipped away at the mountain of datawork in his office, delicately soothed the egos of ruffled Senators. (Helped the medics forge decommissioning certificates. Went on missions for the Chancellor that left him shaking apart in the sonic.)

And on the days that Fox wasn’t fine, they had a system.

My thoughts: The Corries support their Fox. Especially when he’s breaking at the seams.

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If Somebody Loved You They’d Tell You By Now – weareallstardustfallen

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 3,305

TAGS: Hurt/comfort, Angst, Abuse, As usual Fox is having a very bad day, sibling relationships, hurt Fox

SUMMARY: Thorn hesitated. Fox gave him a narrow-eyed squint, waiting for him to spit it out.

“Also Commander Wolffe’s here,” Thorn said, purposely casual.

Fox sighed. “Here, picking his problems up from the tank, or here, he wants something?”

“Here, he got his boys out already and he’s still waiting around,” Thorn said apologetically, and then with an amused tilt of the head, “We told him you were busy and he said he’d wait until you were done working.”

Fox snorted. Fox, just like Thorn and the other Guard commanders, was never actually done working.

Or: Fox is maybe not okay, and Wolffe is maybe not okay with that.

My thoughts: The series for this is brilliant. Again, I love Wolffe and Fox interactions. Especially when Wolffe sticks his stubborn little heels in and refuses to give up on Fox.

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I’ll Take My Heart Clean Apart (If It Helps Yours Beat) – shadowhuntingdauntlessdemigod

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 12,050

TAGS: Episode s03e10 Heroes on Both Sides, Angst, Hurt/comfort, Blood and injury, Mental menipulation, Poisoning, Hopeful ending, Brotherhood, Family, Clone trooper-centric, Clone troopers deserve better, Clone trooper dehumanization, Nightmares, Hallucinations, Fox needs a hug, Protective Fox, Protective CG, Fox is the best big brother, But he needs to take better care of himself let’s be honest, Fox whump

SUMMARY: Fox tried to not think about the destruction that was waiting for him, or how the medical team was having trouble triaging all the injured clones and civilians, or how the Coruscant Security Force was as usual almost no help because, after all, this had been a Senate bombing and outside of their jurisdiction, or how— How the whole thing was Fox’s fault. If he just hadn’t let those cleaning droids in, they could’ve avoided the whole thing. ... “I just—I don’t know how—“ Thorn blew out a frustrated breath. Fox cracked his eyes open and saw him shaking his head to himself. Thorn's fingers were curled around Fox's armor. “One day you’ll see that taking care of yourself takes care of us, too.” ... In which everyone blames Fox for the Senate bombings. Everyone except his brothers, who, almost frustratingly so, keep trying to convince him otherwise.

My thoughts: I can just imagine fox eating himself alive over the results of this episode. Loved this.

-------

Mindless Shadows and Puppet Strings – WitchDetective

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 7,886

TAGS: CREATOR CHOSE NOT TO USE ARCHIVE WARNINGS. Fox needs a hug, Fox needs a nap, Tired Fox, Fox is not okay, Palps being an asshole, Manipulative Palps, Clone troopers speak Mando’a, Clone troopers deserve better, Ep s06e04 Orders, Overworked Fox, Heavy angst, Canonical character death

SUMMARY: Fox has been miserable since the start of the Clone Wars, but he at least thought that his life couldn't get any worse.

He was sadly proven wrong when a blackout caused him to have possibly the worst night of his life; one where he made a grave mistake that he will not be able to fix no matter how hard he wished he could.

This time, even his Corries might not be able to stop him from spiraling.

My thoughts: Fox aaaaangst. I love it. Not gonna lie. It gives me LIFE.

------

Redemption Inside The Grave – kakashikrazy256

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 1,821

TAGS: CREATOR CHOSE NOT TO USE ARCHIVE WARNINGS. (YOU’VE BEEN FUCKING WARNED BY THAT BTW). Post-Scipio, Fox needs a hug

SUMMARY: Fox and Thorn have a conversation after the mission on Scipio.

My thoughts: I re-read this quickly because I was having trouble remembering what it was about and Y’ALL. I cried. This is heart-breaking.

------

AND AFTER ALL THAT!

UNFINISHED FICS/WIPS

Life During Wartime – Chermit

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 63,750 9/? chapters

TAGS: GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE. AU – canon divergence, Fix-it, Angst with a happy ending, Hurt/comfort, Suspense, Murder mystery, Mind control, Memory loss, Implied/referenced suicide, Cognitive dissonance, Clone trooper inhibitor chips, Fox needs a hug, The Corrie Guard is Freudian slip central, and Fox is the doublethink KING, Post-episode s6e4 Orders, Sporadic updates

Summary: Commander Fox has a lot on his plate: managing his Corries, filling out piles of forms, dealing with obnoxious Senators, and not thinking about the way he keeps waking up covered in other people's blood. All that considered, he really doesn't have time to deal with being investigated by the Captain of the 501st and the Head of the Jedi Order for two separate murders he (probably) didn't (want to) commit. But Fox is a soldier, and good soldiers follow orders, so when does he ever get what he wants?

My thoughts: I wish to make this fic into candy and eat it. OMNOMNOM. Brilliant. Will sit on the edge of my seat waiting for more. Deeeeliiiiccciiious

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The Last Reason – Meerlicht

PAIRINGS: Fox/Quinlan Vos

WORDCOUNT: 89,170 13/? chapters

TAGS: GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE. Fox needs a hug, Mind control, Suicidal thoughts, Implied/referenced abuse, Minor character death, Platonic relationships, Fox is an unreliable narrator, Alcohol abuse/alcoholism, Dissociation, Panic attacks, Body dysphoria, It gets worse before it gets better, Miscommunication, Rated M for violence, Slow updates, Platonic cuddling

SUMMARY: Cody has a scar now, and it’s the only thing that differentiates him from Fox appearance-wise. For one, they both have the same circles under their eyes. Fox assumes that’s what comes with being a Commander. Their hands are the same, too, damaged and bruised at all times.

But the biggest difference Fox sees when he looks at Cody isn’t the scar. It’s the rage. Cody doesn’t wear that same rage.

Fox’s hands ache with the need to punch something.

Or: Fox dealing with Senators, little brothers, the terrifying ordeal of asking for help and a menace called Quinlan Vos.

My thoughts: Oh this is beautiful. And so, so painful. This is very much angst focused in the beginning, and it’s not afraid to show the worst side of things. Brilliant fic.

------

And I Turned ‘Round and There You Were – never_going_home

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 3,666 2/5 chapters

TAGS: CREATOR CHOSE NOT TO USE ARCHIVE WARNINGS. Fox needs a hug, CG deserve better, CG VS GAR rivalry, Implied/referenced sexual assault, Implied/referenced animal death, Fox-centric, Fox whump, Fox has anxiety, Trans Bly, Angst, Angst with a happy ending

SUMMARY: Fox wakes up face-down in a pile of flimsi with his hair in his mouth. This in itself is not particularly unusual, because he’s been sleeping at his desk for the last—five months? Six months? He doesn’t care enough to recall. Whatever. Point is, it’s been a long fucking time since he’s bothered to drag himself into his bunk. His steel desk chair is comfortable enough to while away the four hours he has between finishing paperwork and starting his first shift.

(This is a lie so fucking big it beggars belief. Fox’s steel desk chair is the stuff of children’s nightmares and one day, if the war ever ends—if he lives that long—he’s going to take a great amount of pleasure in attaching several detonators to it and throwing it in the ornamental lake of the Supreme Chancellor.)

Fox hasn't been doing well. His batch notices (eventually).

My thoughts: Really enjoying this fic. All the delicious angsty-ness I hope for from Fox whump!

------

Why Not’s and How To’s – Trixree

PAIRINGS: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Darth Maul, Fox/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Clone trooper characters

WORDCOUNT: 68,091 11/17 chapters

TAGS: Legally Blonde Jedi AU, Lawyer Obi-Wan, Clone trooper angst, Clone trooper emancipation, Clone trooper-centric, Darth Maul redemption, Polyamorous character, Open marriage, Protective Obi-Wan Kenobi, Flashback heavy, Obi-Wan Kenobi is not a Jedi, Anakin Skywalker is not a Jedi, Angst and hurt/comfort.

SUMMARY: Two months after the Guard officially moves to Coruscant, the lawyer shows up.

In which Obi-Wan Kenobi never returns to the Jedi order after the war on Melidaa/Dann and instead finds another way to follow the Force's will. Namely, by fighting sentient-rights abuses all over the galaxy and emancipating the Grand Army of the Republic, one clone trooper at a time.

My thoughts: Fox-centric I said… Okay, but hear me out! The POV changes regularly in this, and Fox is absolutely one of the POVs! It’s sexy, and fun, and I’m not gonna lie, I love it! If Obi-Wan’s not your thing, probably better to steer away!

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Unexplain the Unforgivable – always_a_slut_for_hc

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 22,556 14/15 chapters

TAGS: GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH. Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Imprisonment, Coercion, Mind control, Torture, Dehumanization, Clone troopers deserve better, Fox whump, AU – canon divergence, The Fives incident, Clone trooper reconditioning

SUMMARY: Fox shoots - Fives lives. The commanders of the Coruscant Guard are arrested and taken into custody by Captain Rex and the rest of Torrent Company.

Something is rotten in Coruscant, and Rex thinks it's Commander Fox's heart.

My thoughts: Fuuuuck. This is another, just excellent fic. What if Rex did arrest Fox after he shot Fives? I don’t think Palps would like that very much, DO YOU???

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My Star in the Sky – Gravitymay

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 29,980 8/? chapters

TAGS: CREATOR CHOSE NOT TO USE ARCHIVE WARNINGS. Hurt/comfort, Misunderstandings, Blood and injury, Whump, Protective Alpha-17, Fox needs a hug, Sheev Palpatine being an asshole, Medical procedures, Fluff and angst, Minimal fluff, maximum angst, Planet Kamino, Fix-it of sorts, Anxiety

SUMMARY: commander cody, through careful investigation, uncovers disturbing information about the coruscant guard. he takes it to one of the few men he trusts to do something about it - alpha-17.

cody's trust is well placed, and what alpha finds is worse than either of them imagined.

My thoughts: This is mainly from Alpha-17s perspective, but I have been thoroughly enjoying this so far. It’s another painful, angsty one (it is my leaning, sorry!).

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For your Protection – cats_and_dr_pepper

PAIRINGS: Fox/Thorn

WORDCOUNT: 30,253 6/?

TAGS: CREATOR CHOSE NOT TO USE ARCHIVE WARNINGS. Beskar, Mandalorian culture, CG trooper-centric, CG troopers as family, BAMF Fox, Clone trooper inhibitor chips, Fix-it, Everyone is sassy, Everyone is gay, Angst, Whump, Eventual happy ending, Anxiety typical of an overworked soldier in the military, It’s not paranoia if they’re really out to get you, Sleep deprivation, Din’s covert lands on Coruscant, Military lingo, Food issues, Planet Aq Vetina, Chatlogs

SUMMARY:Mando’ade were personally offended by their existence on all fronts, and it didn’t matter what faction. Kyr’tsad hated Jango, the Haat Mando’ade hated what the clones meant for them, and the New Mandalorians hated war and all its pieces. The last thing Fox needed was another shipment of empty, bloody plastoid delivered to the bricks.

There really was no telling which one sent the package.

A whole squad.

Gone.

Fox hoped they were dead. Anything else was too painful to think about.

Or; Fox finds a huge cache of beskar. The potential ramifications of this do not escape him. And then a new faction of Mandalorians arrives on Coruscant. Fox decides he's too tired to deal with this shit anymore.

My thoughts: SO. FREAKING. GOOD. Yes. Excellent idea. Love it.

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OTHER PEOPLE’S RECS I HAVEN’T YET READ (BUT WILL NOW BE DOING LOL!)

But Oh, Don’t You Know How It Goes (We Are All Walking Each Other Home) – Anonymous

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 108,245

TAGS: CREATOR CHOSE NOT TO USE ARCHIVE WARNINGS. Cyborg Cody, Emperor Cody, Dark Cody, But there’s some nice bits too!, Brainwashing, Clone trooper inhibitor chips, Non-consensual body modification, but also consensual body modification, Medical procedures, Cybernetics, Mind manipulation, Running an empire is a lot of work guys, Medical experimentation

SUMMARY: After the highly public and highly violent execution of Emperor Palpatine, the Sith Empire is under new management. It doesn't make much difference to Fox whether the Emperor is an evil murdering Sith Lord or an evil murdering cyborg, but as Fox accompanies the Emperor throughout the early days of the new Empire, he realizes there's something--or someone--strange hiding under that faceless armor.

Someone hauntingly familiar.

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Dead Dog (Bye-Bye Baby Blue) – batchmates

PAIRINGS: Background Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi

WORDCOUNT: 48,875 4/? chapters

TAGS: CREATOR CHOSE NOT TO USE ARCHIVE WARNINGS. GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE. Angst, War, Politics, Conspiracy, Brainwashing, Manipulation, Graphic violence, Force-sensitive Fox, Mandalorian clone troopers, Canonical character death, Implied/referenced sexual assault, POV multiple, Additional warnings in author’s note, Dark, Dialogue heavy

SUMMARY: The way it happens is simple: at some point during your service in the Guard, you’ll lose time.

The thing wiping the Guards’ memories gets sloppy and Fox remembers the order not to let Fives leave the surface alive. It changes everything and nothing at all.

------

Twilight on Owl Creek Bridge – yellow_caballero

PAIRINGS: NONE

WORDCOUNT: 33,048

TAGS: Time travel, Fox snaps like a rubber band, Fox and Leia have become unstuck in time, Fascism: good or bad? And other moral questions, The mortifying ordeal of working retail under totalitarianism.

SUMMARY: SUBJECT: Regarding Senate Guard Objectives For Today

This is a polite reminder to all guardsmen that patrol schedules for the Senate vote ratifying dictatorships are posted in the breakroom. I am also issuing a warning to linear time that days should follow sequentially and are not intended to repeat. Please cease repeating. I am getting a headache.

Additionally, I'd like to remind all guardsmen that it is illegal to harbor invisible women in the Senate. If you see a ghost claiming to be Leia Organa, please remove her from the premises. She will be making a scene.

Thank you for your cooperation in preserving the peace of the Republic, and all hail the Empire. FOX

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Invictus – Airlock_Failure

PAIRINGS: Riyo Chuchi/Fox, Embree Spicer/Dawn, Talon/Malice

WORDCOUNT: 118,993

TAGS: GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH. Hurt/comfort, Slavery, Torture, Suicidal thoughts, Suicide attempt, Clone trooper decommissioning, blood and injury, Amputation, Drug use, Sleep deprivation, Political unrest, Near death experiences, Chronic illness, Injury-recovery, Force-sensitive Fox, Force-sensitive Slick, Asexual Fox, Fox needs a hug, Fox needs a nap, Workplace violence, Violence, Espionage, Clone trooper inhibitor chips, Clone troopers deserve better, Clone trooper relationships, Clone trooper emancipation, Clone trooper medics, Cloneshipping, Implied/referenced child abuse, Implied/refered rape/non-con, Implied/reference abuse, Panic attacks, Anxiety attacks, AU – canon divergence, Minor character death, Implied/Refered character death, Kidnapping, Vaginal sex, Anal sex, Unprotected sex, Angst, Fluff

SUMMARY: The most decorated soldier of the Grand Army of the Republic doesn't care about awards or medals. Commander Fox cares about keeping his soldiers operating at peak performance. He cares about keeping the civilians of Coruscant safe from anti-Republic attacks (even if those same citizens spit in his direction on the street). Above all else, Commander Fox cares about his men, their well-being, and keeping them safe from a predatory system designed to churn them up and spit out their carcasses.

He can manage. He's fine. Really, he's great.

Except he can't stop dreaming about Kamino. And he can't help but feel like he's drowning.

SEVERAL PEOPLE RECOMMENDED INVICTUS. I can’t believe I’ve never read it somehow!!!

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Corrie Red Taints Your Soul – Lia_ka2020ad

PAIRINGS: Fox/Thire, Thorn/OFC, Fox/Wolffe

WORDCOUNT:205,891 62/80 chapters

TAGS: GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, RAPE/NON-CON. Fluff and angst, Hurt/comfort, Smut, Pain, PTSD, Everyone is mentally ill, Malevolence Arc, Fox needs a hug, Fox gets a hug, Fox is a little shit, Fox deserves better, Implied/referenced sexual assault, Suicide attempt, Dead Dove: Do not eat, Substance Abuse, Clonecest, Palps being an asshole, I ship everyone, Clone trooper decommissioning, Clone sex, Clone trooper culture, Clone trooper speak Mando’a, Mando’a language, Childhood memories, Clone trooper training on Kamino, Politics

SUMMARY: Fox exists, awesome. He has brothers that he loves and even unlimited access to drugs, even better. Work is still shit though, and his mind constantly tries to murder him. Luckily his brothers are annoying bastards doing everything to keep him alive, and maybe he can even find a way to silence the voices. And to figure out how in all nine Corellian hells he is supposed to serve the Republic when it's drifting more towards Authoritarianism every day.

#commander fox #marshal commander fox #Fox fic recs #Fic recs #star wars the clone wars #the clone wars #cloneshipping #not my fic #Whisky's Foxy fic recs

13 notes · View notes

thetarttfuldickhead · 5 months

Text

A Jamie-centric pre-OT3 Christmas story told in 25 short chapters.

Masterpost / AO3

18.

The door swung open to reveal a knocked over side table, a smashed lamp on the floor, and Jamie Tartt sprawled next to it, bleeding from one hand. Over him stood a man Roy didn’t recognise. He was short, with unkempt grey curls and a wild beard.

He was also drunk, Roy noted, as the man turned toward him. Steady enough on his feet, but his gaze was slightly unfocused, and the smell of stale beer unmistakable.

“You expecting visitors— “ the man began to drawl, but then his eyes lit up with recognition. “Oh, Roy Kent, is it, didn’t expect to see you making house calls to old teammates, but I guess you have a lot of free time on your hands now, eh?” He looked down on Jamie, adding, “Get up, Jamie, no need to lay around like a little bitch just ‘cause you took a tumble, I taught you better than that.“ He turned back to Roy, shaking his head in mock-commiseration. “Footballer, and can’t even stay on his feet. Might be why you lost so badly today, eh, son? Your balance’s gone to shit now that you’re faffing around with a bunch of amateurs instead of a real team.”

Roy stared at the man with mounting disbelief and disgust, then turned his gaze on Jamie, who was unsteadily climbing to his feet. The look on his face shocked Roy far more than the signs of a scuffle had; he’d never imagined that Jamie could look so fucking small; curled in on himself, pale, and with downcast eyes, like a child awaiting punishment.

Like a child. Son.

Roy jerked his head toward the drunk. “This your father?” he asked, surprised at how level he sounded.

Jamie’s eyes flitted to the man, then quickly down again. He gave a small nod.

“Uh-huh. You want him here?”

“Hey now, Kent, you’ve no business— “

“Not talking to you.” Roy cut him off with a curt gesture, eyes still trained on Jamie. “Tartt, do you want him here?”

Jamie didn’t say anything; didn’t nod his head yes or shake it no. But he looked up at Roy and in his face there was such resigned hopelessness that it hit Roy like a punch to the gut.

Roy nodded once. “Right.” And before Jamie’s father had time to react, he grabbed hold of him and dragged him towards the door, ignoring the flailing arms and the kicks and the yelling, and tossing him down the step with enough force that the man fell flat on the gravel, hopefully cutting his ugly mug on the pebbles as he went. Roy shut and locked door on his cursing and threats, and turned back to Jamie, who hadn’t moved.

“The fuck happened here?” Roy asked. “You all right?”

“Yeah, yeah, good, yeah,” Jamie said, sounding slightly dazed as he cradled his injured hand with his good one. “Fell. Knocked the table over, cut my hand on the lamp, but I’m good. Yeah.”

Like hell you are, Roy thought, and might have said if they weren’t interrupted by a loud banging on the door. “Jamie, you open this fucking door, you hear me! Kent, I don’t care who you think you are, you posh southern twat, I’ll still—“

Roy stopped listening. “He got a key?” he asked Jamie, who had started violently at the sound of his father’s assault on the door.

“No.”

“Good. Let him tire himself out, then. Or you want me want to call the police?”

Jamie’s eyes widened at that. “No! No, just… don’t do that. Don’t call the police.”

“All right.” He’d have offered to knock the bastard out, but an unconscious man on the porch might cause all sorts of annoying questions; Roy knew that from personal experience. Besides, he had more pressing matters to attend to. “Come on then, let’s have a look at that,” he said, gesturing toward Jamie’s hand. “This the kitchen through here?”

Had anyone told Roy that there’d come a day when he’d find Jamie Tartt not talking back concerning, he’d have laughed them right in their idiot face, but as Jamie silently followed him into what indeed turned out to be a kitchen and obediently took out a first aid kit and then sat down when Roy asked him to, he was just that: concerned, and not a little thrown off-kilter by the turn his impromptu visit had taken.

There were two cuts on Jamie’s hand, neither of them deep, and Jamie didn’t protest when Roy quickly cleaned them out and put plasters on them. Just sat there, hand held out, letting Roy do whatever he wanted.

Fucking disconcerting didn’t even begin to describe it.

“There,” Roy said when he was satisfied with his efforts. “He got you anywhere else?”

Jamie stirred at that, shifting uncomfortably. “He didn’t— He just shoved me, like. Hit the wall, tripped on me feet and knocked over the table. Fucking clumsy,” he added, more to himself than to anyone else.

“Oi,” Roy said sharply, then pressed his lips together tightly when Jamie flinched. “Fuck. Sorry. You’re a lot of things, Jamie, but you’re not clumsy. This wasn’t your fucking fault.”

Which might have been a hasty conclusion, perhaps, given Jamie’s general propensity for starting fights and the number of time Roy himself would have been more than happy to shove – and do more than shove – Jamie, but given what he’d seen of Jamie’s father, and given what he saw of Jamie now, Roy did not doubt for a second that he had this right. Whatever had gone down, it hadn’t been on Jamie. And hadn’t been the first time either.

“Yeah,” Jamie said, softly. Too softly to sound convinced.

In the quiet that followed, Roy noted that the banging on the door had stopped. Which was a fucking relief, of course, but it also made the silence between them a tangible, thorny thing, stretching out painfully and awkwardly as Roy wondered what the hell to do now. He could clean out wounds and put plasters on them, sure, and he was fucking brilliant at getting rid of deadbeat fathers, but as for what came after… He wasn’t great with words at the best of times, wasn’t any good at offering comfort – and it wasn’t like him and Jamie were friends. Up until yesterday, and if Roy had been a dramatic arsehole, he would have gone so far as to call them enemies. Yet here he was, in Jamie Tartt’s kitchen, trying to think of one single useful thing to say or do; anything that might draw the loud, obnoxious, swaggering Jamie he knew (and loathed) out of this slumped, muted version of the man.

”He show up here a lot?” he asked eventually, mostly for something to say.

“No.” Jamie’s voice was still much too quiet, but at least he was responding. “He lives up in Manchester.”

Roy remembered a confession made around a sacrificial fire. Bragging about me scoring goals. Calling me soft if I don’t dominate.

“He pissed about the missed goal?” he hazarded. He hadn’t watched the game, but heard enough about it from Keeley to know it hadn’t been Richmond’s, or Jamie’s, finest hour.

But Jamie shook his head. He was fiddling with the plasters on his hand, eyes averted. “Not really. Doesn’t give a shit if I’m not playing for City, does he. Was in town for their game against Palace, decided to drop by.” A small, unhappy shrug, and quick, almost furtive look in Roy’s direction. “Wanted to know what I was getting him for Christmas. Since I’m rich and all.”

“Broken bones and a fucking restraining order if he shows his fucking face here again,” Roy said grimly. When Jamie didn’t react other than to hunch his shoulders, Roy’s eyes narrowed in realisation. “He’s coming back, isn’t he? Bring some mates, wait ‘til I’m gone?” Yeah, Roy knew the fucking type.

A shrug from Jamie, one that said yes.

Roy made a disgusted noise – but at least this meant that there was something he could actually do.

“All right,” he said, straightening from the counter he’d been leaning on. “Let’s go, then.”

Jamie didn’t stir from his chair, just looked up at Roy with a mix of confusion and suspicion. “Why? Where are we going?”

“My place. You’re coming with me.”

“Why?” Sharper this time. More like the normal Jamie.

Roy raised an eyebrow. “Because if your arsehole father is planning a grand return, you not being here when that happens sounds like great fucking idea to me.”

Colour rose in Jamie’s cheeks. “None of your business, though, is it,” he snapped. “I don’t need a fucking babysitter, Roy. I don’t need anything from you.”

He definitively sounded a lot more like himself, to the point where Roy had to actively fight the urge to snap back. It was far easier than it once would have been though; easier to forgive the rudeness when the shame it was meant to hide was still plain on Jamie’s face.

“You think Keeley’d let me hear the end of it if I left you here alone, knowing that that piece of shit might be coming back?” Roy asked, carefully making sure he kept his voice light and dry. Then he sighed, holding a hand up in surrender. “Listen, I’m not going to make you stay with me if you don’t want to, but you’re not staying here either. I can drop you off at Ted’s or… or fucking Isaac’s, if you’d rather. Take you to Keeley’s and bugger off myself, even. Just… fucking come with me, Jamie. Please.”

In the back of his mind, some small part of Roy was wondering how the fuck he, in the span of 24 short hours, had gone from genuinely wanting to smash Jamie’s teeth in to feeling really fucking desperate that the other should accept his help.

He’d need to think on that, probably. Later.

Jamie mumbled something. Roy frowned. “What?”

“I said, your place is fine.” He glanced up at Roy, and tried for a weak, wobbly smirk. “Hear the porch looks dead good.”

Roy barked a short, surprised snort of a laugh. “Was done up by a fucking lunatic, but yeah, I guess it isn’t half-bad.” He jerked his head toward the door. “Let’s go.”

This time, when Jamie went without further protests, it felt like a victory.

---

The drive back to Chelsea was slow, and quiet. When they stopped for a red light, Roy glanced over at Jamie, who hadn’t said a word since he got in the car, and bit back a low, startled curse.

Jamie was crying soundlessly, silent tears running down his cheeks while he stared straight ahead into nothing.

Roy felt a rush of panic course through him. What the fuck was he supposed to do? His first instinct, which was to offer a gruff get yourself together, Tartt would not – of that he was very sure – serve. But what else was there?

Keeley would know what to do. She was great at this emotional shit. Wasn’t scared of a few tears.

Keeley wasn’t here.

It has to be me. It can’t be anyone else.

Keeping his eyes on the road and one hand on the steering wheel, Roy reached out – slowly, carefully – to put his other hand on Jamie’s neck. Jamie was tense under his palm, but didn’t shy away from the touch.

Roy squeezed, once, briefly. “You’ll be all right,” he murmured.

#james tartt sr #is his own content warning #minor violence #minor injuries #hurt/comfort #roy & jamie #jamie's christmas carol #fic #my stuff

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x-authorship-x · 9 months

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Hello! Thank you for making the best known fics about Shisui! Reading your tidbits of amusing author notes and writings about him are both appreciated, since shisui-centric fics are really hard to find. I'm thinking of making fanart, but what does your Shisui look like in Until Dawn Breaks? I don't want my interpretation to be wrong, but also want to see how you, as the creator, envisioned him. Also hope you have a good day~

Thank you! 🥰

(You know I just don't learn to save my rants and then boom! They get eaten by Tumblr and I have a trantrum and you guys end up with an unhinged answer instead of the lovely first draft 🤣)

ANYWAY 🙃

Thank you, Anon! This was absolutely lovely to hear(read?) After a long Monday and I'm really happy you're enjoying my fics!

For someone who's been described as overly wordy, my descriptions are - ironically - not usually that helpful but I'll try. I'll also try not to get too carried away but, well, this is draft answer number two so it's already going to be unhinged

SHISUI HIMSELF:

Hot. He's just really hot okay. He's not perfect but he's one of those people who are just effortlessly, really naturally beautiful? Distressingly attractive. If Itachi takes after his mother and looks like a painting of a cresent moon brought to life, Shisui is the Sun. THE SUN

Dimples. One in each cheek, so deep that they're visible when he talks. They hurt my feelings.

He's got a cool undertone in his skin and he's golden in the sun. Shisui IS the sun. This is a very important theme ok lmao

He has a good nose (not a button, not too sharp, not one of those straight line cop-outs, we don't fear noses here), squarer but sharp jawline, flatter thick brows, high cheekbones. Sculpted but very much like "that is one nice guy" than "inhuman statue"

His eyes are as dark as you can naturally get and his hair is the same, no blue tints or anything. Shorter cut on the sides (if he caught a curl in his headband...rip) with angel curls on top (please don't give him a footballers undercut tho 🤣 he doesn't deserve that punishment).

The biggest most beautiful liquid eyes. You know how some guys have the most unfair lashes and you just seethe in resentment? Shisui cripples egos on the daily without realising.

He gets those little 'eye whiskers'/crows feet around his eyes when he grins really hard. Are you getting the picture that he's devastating. I think he deserves this after the shitshow of canon tbh.

He's 6ft. (There's a reason I cba for now)

More built than you'd think for "fast as fuck". He's built like a sprinter, so "characterized by a muscular build with a high percentage of fast-twitch muscle fibers, allowing for explosive power, speed, and quick reaction times." Think a bit slighter than Usain Bolt.

As of NoT, Shisui wears his mother's Uzushio earrings 24/7. Single lobe piercing, an engraved silver bell hangs from each silver hoop.

As of UDB, Shisui has white sealwork around his eyes. Think:

OUTFITS

JOUNIN UNIFORM: (as of UDB) black ANBU pants and sandals, high neck black shirt (varying sleeve lengths), very dark purple waistcoat-jacket with a mandarin collar that has a black crow embroidered in mid-flight in each corner (he doesn't wear this in summer). Headband on forehead, bandages around his calves and one thigh, over which he has his supply kit. Tantō holster across his shoulders.

CASUAL: black ANBU pants and sandals, Uchiha tee shirt, tantō holster.

UDB MISSION: there's some variation (he starts off with the crow vest on and then seals it away at some point lmao idk I can't remember) but generally.... the same base as his Jounin Uniform but with black boots and a thicker jumper, bandages around his thigh under his skirt and also binding his feet and hands (Rock Lee hands). He wears a dark navy scarf with small back tassels around the edges wrapped around his head, shoulders and lower face (only eyes visible), and a skirt.

The skirt is from below his bellybutton to halfway down his calves and it falls straight, a dark navy with a slight tapestry pattern in thick fabric, common for northern regions. There are slits up both sides for movement and his second and third tantō are accessible through the pockets where they're strapped to his thighs.

He carries a brown crossbody satchel for appearances but has most of his kit in the supply pouch on the small of his back. His sealwork is covered in cobalt makeup paste that he smears across his eyelids and the bridge of his nose. Think this colour-

- but a total mess lmao.

Hopefully I covered most of this but it's off the top of my head so do ask if you want more/etc etc! Happy drawing, Anon ✨

#torship #torship talks #ask #anon #shisui #character reference #shisui outfit #shisui reference #hope au #not #udb #no tomorrow #until dawn breaks

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whispermask · 1 year

Text

gasoline in your heart ch.4/10 | ghost/soap/könig

read on ao3 | first ~ next | ch wc: 2.2k, total: 34k | completed

tags: smut, eventual ot3, fwbs to lovers, porn with feelings, jealous!ghost

summary: soap and ghost start hooking up; soap and könig have apparently been hooking up; ghost doesn't know how to deal with it (eventual polycule), chapter 4 is more ghost/könig-centric

preview: He almost gives himself whiplash turning to face the source of the voice. It’s König. Simon realizes his mistake instantly, the sleeves of his heather-grey thermal sweater pushed up so that the tattoos on his left arm are clearly visible. He’s usually so careful, covering his tattoos when he’s in London, the obverse to wearing a mask while deployed. König flushes, clearly embarrassed at having guessed right, probably wishing he hadn’t said anything at all.

Once the mission is completed—all six missiles recovered safely, the big bad gunned down in Istanbul after going on the lam—and he’s shaken hands with just about every bureaucratic officer in the chain of command, Ghost is required to take two weeks leave before his next assignment in Azerbaijan.

Home for Christmas. Hurray.

As a rule, Ghost spends his leaves resting and healing. When he settles into bed on his first night back in his Chiswick flat, he sleeps for fourteen dreamless hours. Once he manages to drag himself into the loo for a piss and a shower, he catches sight of himself in the mirror. He’s wearing civvies, pajamas at that, maskless, not a piece of tactical equipment in sight. He grips the bathroom counter and leans forward to get a closer look at his face, seeks to recognize the person staring back at him. He catalogs what he sees. Tries to fit the puzzle pieces together.

From his right cheekbone to the corner of his mouth is a silvery white scar, keloided and gnarled. Got that one in Somalia over a decade ago, from a girl who couldn’t have been more than fourteen. She had come at him after he’d forced his way into the target’s home, a man who was wanted for a slew of things but chief among them in Ghost’s mind was the child trafficking. She hadn’t even hesitated to throw herself at him with her arm raised above her head, the blade already arcing down to cut open his face. Ghost had only realized after he’d killed her, firing the gun in reflex, blinded by his own blood and driven by his body’s stress response, that she was likely one of the victims. He had neglected to treat the wound, instead letting it become infected so the scar would never fade. He’d ended up in the hospital for sepsis two weeks later. He was pulled from active duty for two months after that.

A scar on his neck, red and thin, an attempt to slit his own throat at twenty-eight, just returned from the dead after a seven month stint as a POW in Afghanistan and pissed to the point of alcohol poisoning;

a smattering of small, thin scars above his left temple, shrapnel he’d caught after a helo had gone down with him in it, the pilot’s lifeless eyes staring at him where he laid twenty feet away from the carnage, having been ejected from the cockpit by the force of the impact;

a cigarette burn on his left brow, a gift from his father when he was only nine years old. His eyebrow had never grown back the same, the line of it permanently broken by a slash of purplish skin.

The list goes on.

Ghost struggles to reconcile the man he sees before him with the black-eyed phantom he sees from under the mask. It’s like uncanny valley, there’s enough there that he registers his own face, he just can’t tell if it’s real, doesn’t know who he is right now. Simon, he supposes. In all his naked, scarred glory. A creature of flesh, exposed and fallible.

Simon sighs, roughs his palm over his stubble, grown out enough now that it’s nearly a beard. He goes for the shaving kit in the vanity and then changes his mind, decides to let it grow out.

Bam is Simon’s seventy-seven year old neighbor. Born and bred in Chiswick, she mother hens the hell out of him during the few times a year he’s actually home. She’d even talked him into taking up yoga and meditation “for your mental health, Simon, don’t be dense.” Had strong-armed him into attending a class with her, where other blue haireds had cooed and fawned over his first attempt at downward dog. It’s a practice he’d taken to rather quickly, reserving thirty minutes of his mornings for sun salutations, circumstances permitting.

She doesn’t have any family, like Simon, and he often finds himself accompanying Bam on her shopping trips, chuffed when she insists on buying him a chocolate at the register like how he'd imagine his Nan might've if she hadn't passed when he was a baby. He helps her get her cat to the vet one time, the wretched thing hacking and howling, clawing the ever-loving shite out of Simon’s arm. He doesn’t tell her he’s allergic, but she brings him benadryl and a cuppa while he’s sitting on her sofa once the cat had been determined to be healthy and whole, just royally pissed that his owner had changed cat food brands.

She takes him to see Rage Against the Machine at Finsbury Park for his birthday after Somalia. He wines and dines her to show his appreciation the next time he’s on leave, kisses her cheek after he drops her off at her flat. She always pats his face and says he’s a good boy, that anybody would be so lucky to have him. It’s the healthiest not-relationship he’s ever been in.

It’s Christmas Eve morning. He’s in St. James’s, shopping for a Christmas gift for Bam at her favorite jeweler. The shop is quaint and bright, playing Frank Sinatra’s Christmas album softly. He’s debating which style of chain to get for Bam’s necklace when he hears the bells on the front door jingle and someone behind him says “Ghost?”

He almost gives himself whiplash turning to face the source of the voice. Ghost recognizes those burning blue eyes. It's König.

Simon realizes his mistake instantly, the sleeves of his heather-gray thermal sweater pushed up so that the tattoos on his left arm are clearly visible. He’s usually so careful, covering his tattoos when he’s in London, the obverse to wearing a mask while deployed. König flushes, clearly embarrassed at having guessed right, probably wishing he hadn’t said anything at all.

“Not on leave,” Simon says. “Here I’m just Simon.”

“I will not be calling you that,” König says. He is blond, Ghost realizes with a twinge, a creamy ash unlike Simon’s dishwater. But blond nonetheless, and well groomed, dressed in civvies, a black peacoat overtop a pale blue button up and grey fitted slacks. He’s almost too pretty, face unmarred and symmetrical. His eyes are deepset and penetrating, even more startling blue like frost without the veil.

“Have it your way.”

“I didn’t come here looking for you,” König hurries, putting his hands up in defense. “I promise, I wasn’t following you.”

“Never said you were.”

“I’m visiting my sister in South Kensington for Hanukkah.”

“Happy Hanukkah,” Simon says.

“Merry Christmas,” König responds.

The bells jingle again and a young woman, similar in likeness to König but much shorter, enters the jewelry shop, a small dark haired child clutching her hand trailing behind her. König’s sister, Simon guesses.

“Klaus, wir werden zu spät kommen — oh, hello,” the woman says.

“Petra, this is—” König starts, stops, brushes a hand through his hair. “Simon.”

“Are you sure about that?” Petra asks, teasing, brow arching. Her accent is a bit posh but undeniably Austrian, like her brother’s.

“Well—” König starts.

“A pleasure,” Simon interrupts, and shakes Petra’s hand. The child, still a toddler Simon realizes, stares up at him from behind Petra’s leg. “Hullo,” Simon tries, and the child tucks his face further out of view.

“Joachim, say hi,” Petra encourages. Joachim shakes his head against her leg. “Sorry, he’s a bit nervous around strangers.”

“My ugly mug doesn’t help, I’m sure,” Simon says, going for playful.

“Oh, not at all. That is, not that I–I mean, you’re very tall,” Petra stutters. “The scars are kind of working for you.”

“Please make this stop,” König whispers from behind the hand he’s slapped against his forehead.

“We’ve got to go anyway,” Petra says. “We’re meeting mum for lunch at Fallow.”

“Oi, ‘aven’t they got one of those stars?” Simon asks

“A Michelin star? Yes, that’s right—” Petra responds, smiling.

“Ja, ja, Petra is a successful barrister, a real wunderkind, she takes mum out to extravagant, Michelin-starred restaurants and puts me to shame,” König intones and waves his hand. Simon laughs. König stares like he's grown a second head.

“Right,” Petra says, looking between the two. “Anyway, it was lovely to meet you Simon. Klaus, wir sind spät. Let’s go, ja?” She hooks her arm in König’s and begins walking the three of them towards the door, Joachim still clinging to her other side.

“Likewise,” Simon says. “Happy holidays.”

“See you,” König says, hesitating in the doorway. He seems to want to say more but Petra’s not having it as she drags him out.

“Scheiße, Klaus. Just ask for his number next time,” he hears Petra say as the door closes.

Simon picks out a delicate silver chain with a dove shaped pendant surrounded by quarter karat diamonds. He's allowed to spoil Bam, has so much money in his savings account it’s a little sickening. He’s not one to splurge, especially on himself, but once he sees the dove he knows it’s the perfect choice for her, his saving grace.

As he’s rounding the corner for the tube station, he sees König leaned against a building across the street. When he spots Simon, he jogs over, nearly getting himself rundown by a black cab who honks at his wave of apology.

“How have you survived this long?” Simon asks.

“He knows jokes!” König says. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be at lunch?”

“I told Petra I left my wallet at one of the shops.”

“And did she say it doesn’t matter because you’re not paying for lunch either way?”

“Ha! Johnny said you were funny, I just didn’t believe him.”

And there it is, this unspoken thing between them. Simon recalls the way König’s back had flexed under the red light, how he had lifted Soap with ease, graceful line of his body coiled with power but not violent, almost tender in spite of how hard he had been fucking Soap.

“Look, I didn’t know you two were—”

“It really isn't like that,” König interrupts. “Well, it is. But, it’s just not realistic for men like us is it? Doing what we do, the risks we take. ” Any promise they’ve ever made outside of their professional careers—to lovers, friends, family even—inevitably broken, disappointment festering into resentment.

“S’pose not,” Simon says.

“I think he misses you, though he won’t admit it.”

“Could you. Well, would you give me his number?”

“Of course! Here take mine too while we’re at it” König responds and pulls out his phone. “What’s your number?” Simon gives it to him.

“Thanks,” Simon says when his phone lights up in his palm with the notification.

“What will you say?” König asks.

“You’ll just have to wait to find, won’t you,” Simon says. König flinches. He doesn’t mean it to be cruel, and isn't particularly bothered that Soap has shared the details of their escapades with König. He has every right to talk about it with whomever he pleases, trusts Soap wouldn't forgo professional decorum outside of this thing he has going with both Ghost and König.

“I didn’t mean it like that—” he starts.

“Nee, nee, warte," König interrupts, holding up a hand. "Johnny likes you. He really, really likes you. And I could too, for him, I think.” König flushes, and Simon’s eyes watch it spread down his neck to the v of his shirt. Snaps his eyes back up to König's face, his pink lips. Then he turns on his heel and leaves, Simon staring after him.

It’s a rare thing that he’s home for Christmas, so Bam had insisted on doing it up right. Had him carry a tree up three flights of stairs and forced him into a Santa hat while they decorated with popcorn garlands and dusty ornaments Bam had pulled from the depths of her hall closet.

Christmas day, he helps Bam prepare dinner. Honeyed ham, roasted potatoes, rosemary brussel sprouts, yorkshire pudding, and Christmas trifle for dessert. They feast and get pissed on Kentucky bourbon, swapping stories and hurling jabs, bantering. Simon hadn't realized how much he missed Soap until now, sharing Bam's easy company and wishing Soap was there with him. They sway to Rod Stewart’s Merry Christmas, Baby and chain smoke an entire pack of Davidoffs. It’s midnight by the time Bam’s falling asleep at the table, cigarette dangling from between her fingers. Simon stubs it out in the ashtray and carries her to bed, tucks her in with a kiss on the forehead.

“Such a good boy, Simon,” Bam mutters, half-awake. “All alone in this world. Simon, when you find someone, don’t let them go.” She then turns over, pulling the sheets around her, and begins to snore. Simon backs out of the room and closes the door softly.

He sits in the armchair by the fire, basks in the warmth of it, dazed and well-fed. He considers what Bam said and isn’t surprised to find Soap waiting on the other side of that door once he’s dared to open it. König's words ring in his ears. “I could too, for him.”

Could he…? For Johnny?

He would give Johnny the world on fire, he thinks, if he asked for it, but maybe he’s just drunk.

His blood pulses in his ears as he considers it. What it might be like to fuck Soap with another man’s dick shoved deep down Soap’s throat, in Soap’s ass rubbing against his. The bourbon sings in his blood: yes, you could. yes, you could.

Before he’s even decided, he’s got his pants unbuttoned and pushed down his hips. He palms his cock, rubs over the sensitive head, gets himself to half mast and grips the outline of it through his briefs. Snaps a picture. Send it to Soap with the caption ‘ You were right. ’ Then he adds ‘ Merry Christmas ’ and turns his phone off. He does up his pants and finds a throw blanket and settles on the sofa. The room spins. He closes his eyes.

*******

wir werden zu spät kommen: we’re going to be late wir sind spät: we’re late Nee, nee, warte: no, no, wait (what I read about this was that it’s often used by a teacher/instructor when speaking to a student which I thought was kind of appropriate for this interaction and also König talking down in a way to Ghost is doing things for me)

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overkill-max · 1 year

Text

The Rescue

Just a little drabble of what I think could happen in Episode 6 of Willow. It is very Kit centric. And there are spoilers from the trailer.

——————

Kit had been so close to getting what she wanted. Just as she could feel Jade’s breath on her lips, she was snatched away from her.

She was aching with longing for what could have been. Angry at herself for waiting so long to tell Jade the truth. Now that it seemed she would die in a cage next to a lamenting Willow. He told her he was a fake. Worse, Elora heard this confession and had run away from him.

Elora could be in as much danger than them and all she could think about was herself. She looked up and realized she was just as selfish as ever.

She wonders if she would have even told Jade anything before the truth plums and the various cups of drink she had in her. She had meant to apologize about what she suspected. She hadn’t suspected this, exactly. But she felt that Jade was more special than any of them realized… because she was special. Her heart was brave and true. Her smile was made of sunshine. Her hair burned like wildfire across her heart. She… she was special… but Kit hadn’t known how to say all that.

Even with the truth plums, she had managed to say the wrong thing.

After that, she was disappointed in herself because her confession. The way she had told Jade how she felt… to place that upon Jade just as she had found her place in the woods…it was just another selfish impulse. Even when it was the truth…

“Come on. Your wits. My spriteliness. We’re gonna be out of here in no time.”

A man across from them, in his own cage, laughs. Knowing that they would all die here.

Kit tired to stay positive. But she knew she wasn’t as strong as Jade. She wasn’t as smart as Graydon. As wily as Boorman. As magical as Willow. She wasn’t even as charming and fun as her brother. She was nothing but a disappointment to her mother who looked at her and only saw the ghost of her father in her features.

Kit… Kit had been the wrong twin to rule their kingdom. Too impulsive and not serious enough to be seen as a real contender for the throne. Even when her mother treated her brother as a womanizer and a joke, he was the one next in line to rule. She was a consolation prize for the surviving prince of Galladoorn. In fact, it seemed as if they were both placeholders for who their parents really missed. Reminders of what their parent’s couldn’t let go of.

Elora… even Elora, who was kind and selfless before they found out she was the chosen one… even she was a better person than Kit.

They all knew it… and now she did too.

The explosion above them rattled all the cages so much that theirs went tumbling into the abyss below.

Their cage hit several others, which helped slow down their descent, but it didn’t stop it from quickly sinking to the bottom of an endless well.

Kit used all her strength to kick against the door. It had been bent out of shape in the fall and if she could just keep a breath long enough, she might just be able to force it open.

She swam back up and tried again. Looking up from where she was, she saw how the cage fell below the water line and panic rose up in her chest.

She exhaled and felt lightheaded. She kicked and kicked until her feet went forward without meeting resistance. Her vision blackened and she grabbed onto Willow’s still body before swimming them both to the surface. She coughed. Spitting up water and taking in more than she let out in her desperate attempt to breathe.

Willow’s lips turned blue. Kit tried to hold their heads above water while trying to grip onto the slippery sides that gave purchase to nothing but green, slicked walls.

Kit swallowed more water and coughed as it went above her nostrils. She was unable to cough it all out and her lungs burned.

Not as much as the words she couldn’t stop herself from hearing echo back at her.

“I feel sorry for her. For loving someone who can’t love her back.”

Her legs were tired. Her mind was racing. But she refused to give up. Swimming in what felt like a giant circle in the dark.

Desperate for oxygen. Frantic for Jade to know more than just the truth. Jade had to know that she was loved. Truth plums or not. The words were her own. The feelings belonged to her before she even knew what they meant… Kit had loved Jade for so long and so fully that Elora had seen through her. She knew that Kit had wanted to kiss Jade until her last breath. That she knew how Jade felt but had been too much of a coward to do anything about it because before, it felt as if they had all the time in the world to stay at each other’s sides.

Now… she would do anything to have a little bit of magic. To go back and tell Jade before she tried to run away that she loved her. That she was proud of her. That she would be a great knight. That she would refuse to marry for the good of the kingdom, just like her mother had done. That she would marry for love and all she ever wanted was to go on an adventure with Jade at her side.

One where they would just spend the rest of their days next to each other. Even if all they did was chop wood and fetch pails of water on the edge of the woods.

Jade felt her heart beat out of control. Thinking about Jade always left her feeling stupid and tongue tied.

Jade.

The other woman filled her thoughts so fully that when her hand touched a void, her brain didn’t register it until her body swam forward on its own. Her knees hit the edges of something sharp. Jade kept reaching out. Tentatively touching whatever was in front of her until she realized it was a staircase.

With waterlogged clothes and aching limbs, she climbed up until she could put Willow on the steps and try to breathe life back into his body.

He coughed up water and bile onto the slippery steps and Kit started shaking with relief. She pushed her wet hair back and leaned against the wall.

“Well, that’s one way to escape prison.” She says. Voice small.

Kit’s usual bravado is gone. She knows she is unworthy of leading these heroes anywhere. Yet… she had no other place to go but forward. To follow them, now that she understood that everyone else on this trip was special but her.

They all mattered so much more to the world than she did.

All she had wanted was a way out of her marriage. An adventure. To go beyond what she knew. To leave before Jade left her.

Instead, she needed to rescue her brother and keep the world from being swallowed into darkness while also coming to grips with the fact that this was her legacy.

Her family had been corrupted before. And she knew that given the opportunity, they might fall again… not her brother. He had always been so bright. He was a shining light to the darkness of who she was. Kit could feel those dark edges cutting into the surface whenever she said a mean word to him. She sounded like her mother… and in a way… she was a mirror image to those dark and twisted things that had made her Bavmorda’s granddaughter.

The last words she had said to her brother had been cutting and she was sorry for that. For not being honey sweet, like Elora. For not being selfless, like Jade. For choosing to be anything but what he had needed when they were both hurt.

She was still lamenting this when Willow coughed, stood up on shaking legs and began ascending the steps.

Kit could only follow.

It was dark.

They were cold.

But they had lived to see another day.

They reached the top. Where they had been imprisoned and even though Willow urged her forward. Kit struggled with the pulleys and levers to free the man who was next to them.

“We don’t have time.” Willow told her and even though she agreed with him. Even when her arms burned, and she was dizzy… Kit couldn’t leave this man to die… regardless of what he had done… he was still a person, and he should go free.

The three of them grabbed their weapons, some torches, and kept making their way out of the dungeon.

The stranger wanted freedom and vengeance. Willow wanted to salvage whatever relationship he could with Elora. And Kit just wanted to see Jade again. To make sure she was safe.

She didn’t care about whether the kiss happens or not without the truth plums pushing the truth out of them… She just cared that the other woman was safe.

——————

This was meant to be a little drabble and now it’s got a second chapter.

#willow 2022 #kit tanthalos #tanthamore #my fanfic #just a little drabble #kit x jade #wild speculation and I hope they kiss soon #because these gays are angsty and so full of amazing tropes #and I love them #character study #my drabbles

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beileil · 2 years

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very late but i'm the anon who was asking for Genos fic recs! i would love to see what kind of genosai fics you have to recommend as well!

Nonny. This ask makes me so happy. (Also congrats on being my first ever anon who isn't a bot!) Original ask to @gofancyninjaworld and my recommendation for Savior Complex is here.

In 2019 when I was in my "honeymoon" phase of the fandom, I actually went through the beginning of the One Punch Man fics on Ao3; filtered by English language, Exclude Crossovers, and the Saitama/Genos relationship tag; and read damn near every one of them that wasn't just a short PWP. I also skipped it if it was an incomplete work that was less than 2,000 words or so and hadn't been updated in a while, because I didn't want to get sucked into a good fic that had a good chance of never being finished. But I think I fully read about 500 fics.

If you want my full bookmarks list (sorted to Saitama/Genos fics), it's here. BUT keep in mind that: some of them only have SaiGenos as a side pairing, some of them are super guilty pleasure or have tropes like A/B/O that not everyone likes, and there are lots of fics by particular authors that I love but didn't necessarily add to my bookmarks because I just visit their author page to reread them.

I'm going to put specific fic recs beneath the cut, because this is going to get long. If anyone else has SaiGenos fic recs, please hop in on the notes or reblogs!

This is my Best of the Best list, authors and/or specific fics that really stand out. I'm going to try to keep it Genos-centric because of your original ask, but there may be some from Saitama's POV that are just so good that I need to throw them in there. And obviously this isn't all of them...it's more of a "start with these". Here we go!

Pretty much anything by batneko. She's phenomenal. My personal favorites include: The Charcoal Burner (Saitama as Cinderella...sort of? It's funny af), Boom Town (wild west AU, unfinished but the one chapter that's up is long), Cursed Forest (Japanese folklore/yokai AU where Genos is a kitsune and Saitama is a monk; has the cutest ending), Reset (Genos goes back in time to try to stop the attack on his village; this one is angsty so you really need to be in a mood for it), One Small Step (Men in Black AU), Missed Connections (gonna be honest, this one's a personal fave because Iaian is in it, but it's also extremely good), and anything in the Myth AU series.

Kakera (@unfortunatelycake) is another author who has tons of fics I love, and writes a WIDE variety of pairings. Personal favorites of her SaiGenos fics are: Found in Silence, These Things Unheard (Genos loses his hearing and Saitama realizes Feelings), and A Place of Healing (wartime AU that takes place in an army hospital; very angsty but amazing payoff).

Demon Cyborg's Livestream by Rayadraws, which is the first fic I ever bookmarked. Genos gets forced by the HA to do livestreams. The results are hilarious.

Similar to the above fic, but it's Saitama doing livestreams: A Live Wire by modeoheim. It's from Saitama's POV, but obviously Genos is there.

Green tea kit-kats by thesaraghina. In which Saitama runs a cat cafe. It is extremely cute. Technically unfinished, but doesn't leave off in an unsatisfying place.

An Untethered Soul by Crandberrycrush. Sort of a medieval high fantasy AU. Amazing worldbuilding, and has an interesting take on Genos effectively turning into a "medieval cyborg".

Call Me Home by aerynevenstar. This one is famous for a reason. To date, it is the only fic that has affected me so hard that I threw my phone across the room, screamed "Oh my GOD", and had to calm down my pounding heart before I continued.

The God and the Demon. Saitama is a god. Genos is a demon. The writing is beautiful.

It Doesn't Get Any Realer Than This by FandomShuffle. In which a reality show crew follows Saitama and Genos around. My favorite thing about this fic is that the point of views are really unique, because you mostly see things from Genos' perspective, but sometimes it flips to the TV viewers, camera crew, or other characters (some of which you rarely see in fanfiction).

I Want You to Want Me by One_Punch_Chan. Genos has a stalker, Saitama pretends to be his boyfriend to deter them. Every sentence in this fic is funny.

And finally, the most meta SaiGenos fic I can think of: Big Name Fan by hazeltea. In which Saitama checks his Ao3 tag, is disappointed at the lack of results, and Genos fixes it.

#one punch man #saigenos #genosai #fic rec #anon ask #please add to the list if you want

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ao3feed-hawks · 10 months

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Hero's Fall, Society's Rise

Hero's Fall, Society's Rise by kitnjinx

Hawks had been the Commission's personal weapon for longer than he'd even known what it meant, privy to the darkest cracks in the society he was part of yet powerless to do anything about it.

Yet something changes when he's sent to infiltrate the League of Villains, as the two leaders take him in with careful and accept him into their fold.

So what happens when a hero trained as a weapon decides he finally has something more important than the hand on his leash?

Words: 9758, Chapters: 1/2, Language: English

Series: Part 39 of MHA/BNHA One-Shots

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia (Anime & Manga)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M, Multi

Additional Tags: Takami Keigo | Hawks-centric, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Angst, Protective Takami Keigo | Hawks, Protective Dabi | Todoroki Touya, Protective Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko, Takami Keigo | Hawks in Love, Dabi | Todoroki Touya in Love, Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko in Love, Falling In Love, Developing Relationship, Boys In Love, Idiots in Love, Takami Keigo | Hawks Acts Like a Bird, Villain Takami Keigo | Hawks, Sort Of, League of Villains as Family, League of Villains Redemption, Past Abuse, Abuse, Manipulation, Canon-Typical Violence, Murder, but in a self-defense way, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Happy Ending, Happy Ending, Honors the Kit-Phoy Pledge

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48557665

#AO3 Feed #FanFiction #AO3 Shigadabihawks #♣#Shigadabihawks #Toga Himiko #⚣#R:T #A:Kitnjinx #Villain AU #Abuse

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rvnwtch · 1 year

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So I want to start this off by saying, ESO is my FAVORITE game. I literally have not invested as much time, effort and money (literal hundreds) into a game as much as this one. I’m also aware that my expectations are my own responsibility. Not to mention, things go on behind the scenes all the time that we don’t know about. Like maybe voice actors weren’t available or were sick or something… and that I completely understand.

But with all of that being said, I have some thoughts. (And want to hear from you guys too!!! And I’ll TOTALLY untag this if the post upsets anyone I just wanted to hear what other people are thinking too?)

Personally, I feel a little bit let down. This is my favorite chapter of the game and I love the story very much.

Adusa and the mad scientist vampire lab furniture set being added during the event were a fine idea, why not? But a lot of people got Adusa from the crown store last year in October. So what’s new for those people? What’s new for the returning audience?

This is not a big Ravenwatch centric post (not the point at all here!) but Fennorian was a part of the main story line and we didn’t get any new dialogue from him? (Even after getting a mention about him from Gwendis during the Zeal of Zenithar event just a few months ago?) And nothing from Svana, or Lyris either? Hell, nothing from even Maugh or Mjolen?

Not to mention the Impresario feels very… empty? All she has is the fragment stuff from the year long event (very fair to include those!), the companion upgrades, group healing kit, and a clothing motif set that (from the top of my head) I don’t even recognize? I mean I figured we would get something Greymoor related that we would recognize or be excited for? Maybe some kind of Ravenwatch memento or vampire memento or a bat pet or something?

And as for the event prologue quest I personally didn’t remember Mel. (Very happy for any Mel fans though!) I thought we were going to get something with Svana or someone in it? But you can’t even play the quest more than just once? I thought it was going to be a daily thing, so I was at least looking forward to that. But you can’t. It’s a one and done kind of deal.

I also don’t think we get any kind of XP boost or extra gold for completing quests in Western Skyrim. But I was waiting for that too? I started replaying the main quest on a new character and I’m pretty sure there was no incentive to replay the questline or for NEW players to pick it up?

So I’m just kind of wondering what the point of the event is, if there’s NOTHING new? No little easter eggs, or new dialogue or anything? And like, I’m aware that this all sounds kind of spoiled and bratty but I’m not mad. Just kind of sad because… what’s the point? Why do I want to play it? That sounds rough but when you’re writing a paper for class, professors ask you those same very basic questions. Who is your audience? Who are you trying to get to participate? and what’s the big WHY? For this, the audience (target or not) is going to be a LOT of people who have played through Greymoor before. It’s people who have most, if not all, of the dungeons and world bosses and delves completed. What’s NEW for all of us? We hear the Dark Heart of Skyrim event and we don’t think of JUST dailies (that we’ve probably already played through) and a pretty empty Impresario list. I’ve been excited for this event ever since it was first announced.

I’m also afraid that ESO might be using this to test audience interest in the zone/storyline. Like what if they wanted to see if we’re still invested in these characters and this area before starting/releasing something new including all of it? I definitely see participation falling off as the event comes to a close. Already fewer people are playing it than the first two days. At least when I was online anyway.

This just had the potential to be so cool and instead I feel kind of let down. And like I said, my expectations are my own responsibility, but… yeahh??

Sorry for ranting on main… I just don’t really get it and wondered if anyone else kind of felt that way?

#eso #dark heart of skyrim event #dark heart of skyrim #greymoor

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boundinparchment · 1 year

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Of Blood and Sparks - XVII

Karina Alexandre of Fontaine lost her position, her family, and her Archon's favor. A dead Electro Vision is her mark of guilt. A reminder to never fail again. Faith shattered, and suspicious of the Fatui, she eventually makes her way to Liyue, where she encounters a certain funeral parlor consultant. Little does she know it's only the beginning. Original character centric; eventual Zhongli/OC. Posted originally at @chevalier-of-fontaine. ArchiveOfOurOwn || FF.net || Karina's profile

That night, long after they said their goodbyes with a beat of hesitation silently begging for more, Karina found herself unable to sleep. It was not a strange occurrence, not after she dredged her memories for details she wished she could forget. Her body demanded sleep but her mind refused. It would make for a poorer day tomorrow, she was sure.

The Rite of Descension was just around the corner; she had little time to deal with insomnia and the memories of lingering pleas for mercy that sat in the deep recesses of her mind. It used to be cold sweats, screams, and tears, unsure of where precisely she was. Her poor parents. She scared Rhiannon the first time it happened.

Now, she just felt hollow.

Karina rose from her bed, splashed cold water on her face from a basin, and then gently unpinned the needles keeping silk to the mannequin in the bedroom. She padded into the tiny living room where she cleared off the low table and pulled out pattern references and her sewing kit. The light was poor and she fumbled with a match and a handheld lamp before she started. The wick was damp with fuel and took the flame like an eager lover.

The fabric spoke for itself, especially the silk that bore a subtle pattern of scales. She could have simply used different swaths for various parts for an easier approach but its intended recipient was unique and elegant; he deserved a gift with that in mind. She’d sketched out glaze lilies for the sleeves, their powder blue petals contrasting sweetly against the gold, ochre, and brown palette she’d chosen. A few plum blossoms made their way into the design for the hems over the course of the layout, all the more fitting now; courage, hope, longevity.

The back design still eluded her, even now.

A problem for another night.

____________________

Although she and plenty of other businesses were occupied with preparations, life in the harbor was otherwise unaffected, and if anything, there seemed to be more people than ever. Tourists seemed to make up most of the crowds as of late and more than once, she found herself frustrated with those who decided the middle of the thoroughfare was an excellent place to check one’s map.

No matter where she went for the days that preceded the Rite, excitement and speculation on Rex Lapis’ predictions were on everyone’s lips. She couldn’t imagine that kind of pressure. When she asked about it the evening before, Zhongli only offered an enigmatic smile.

“It is, I suppose, something one becomes accustomed to,” he said at last. “Rex Lapis has been a part of this ritual for thousands of years. For him, I can only surmise that it is but one more task laid ahead of him in his care-taking of humanity.”

Karina schooled her face as best she could. He separated himself from his godhood so easily. Was it merely because they were in public? Or was it more for her sake?

They came to a vendor table on their way through the lower docks, the moon reflecting off calm waves, and the scent of smoked meat and roasted vegetables wafting through from nearby kiosks. Under the warm light, the seller’s jewelry and accessories glittered like stars.

She was never allowed to wear such trinkets; uniforms were strict and the only adornments allowed were medals and badges. Habit stuck and she was hardly one for frivolous ornamentation. The noctilucus jade broach was her exception, more for special occasions than casual wear; much like the hair pins and rings and necklaces before her.

“Did you make all of these?” Karina asked.

“These, yes,” the vendor passed a hand over a section on their right–Karina’s left–, where a clean delineation in style was apparent. “The rest are consignment, pieces purchased over the years.”

She nodded, noting some of the tiny differences in settings, how some seemed to float seamlessly above the bridge of metal, while others were set entirely nestled. It allowed for the metal to become part of the overall design. Karina couldn’t help the smile that worked its way across her face.

Her attention rarely fell to shiny objects unless it was absolutely necessary but she couldn’t help but gaze at the craftsmanship of many of the offerings. Such pieces were behind windows and counters in Fontaine, in rich districts where those with money could afford to look, let alone purchase. And in Liyue, she only ever saw elaborate works when assisting with wedding attire.

“You certainly have an eye for clarity and cut,” Zhongli said, casting a careful eye over the wares. “It is difficult to find some of these stones without occlusions, and well-versed alchemists have yet to perfect a means by which to purify non-elemental stones.”

“I would rather sell a quality piece that is beloved than have several pieces that reflected a poorer standard. Is there anything in particular that catches your eye?”

Jewelry and clothes were sometimes worlds apart in their crafts but she was so enthralled, she hadn’t noticed Zhongli turn his attention to her. One comb in particular housed a sea of tiny dark amethyst flowers, surrounding a larger bloom, delicate filigree reminding her of the dead stone at her side. Beads towards the ends of the comb, clear and polished, gave the impression of sweet flower petals, awaiting bloom.

“May I?” Karina asked, fingers hovering over the hair comb, before the vendor nodded.

Gingerly, she plucked it from its velvet padding and examined it. Looking felt frivolous but Zhongli was patient next to her. She had nothing to wear that really went with it. The comb was lightweight and could be wrapped and tucked away easily. She could sell it again if she was in immediate need of mora.

“That one suits you,” Zhongli murmured.

“It’s beautiful but I don’t often find myself in a situation warranting such things,” she replied. “It would be wasted at work.”

Before she could explain further, gentle fingers took the comb from her and brushed against her hair. The prongs were nestled into the locks behind her ear, above the hastily assembled arrangement she wore to the shop.

Zhongli briefly turned to the vendor. “How much, sir?”

“You don’t have to–” Karina protested softly and grabbed his forearm as he went to reach for his mora.

Didn’t he understand that she was more than happy with his company alone? Not to mention, she had her own salary, too. A dark thought of how she didn’t need an Archon’s favor or his money slashed across her mind but she squashed it quickly. Irrelevant.

Amber eyes fell on her again and the look of adoration on his face was too much to bear.

“I know. I would like to.”

Karina felt her face grow warm as she remembered his words the other night. Friendship and affection.

Affection.

She let go of his arm, her hand sliding to her side, almost limp. Affection took different forms. Friends doted on each other. It didn’t have to mean…

The sale was settled (granted, not without haggling) and they continued on their way to the wharf. Karina unconsciously reached up and touched the pin, still perfectly in place.

“I apologize if I overstepped,” Zhongli said as they neared the waterfront. They stopped only when they neared the end of the pier where ships were brought in for repair. “I very much enjoy seeing you smile and you seemed so enraptured. Mora is of no consequence, not when something causes your face to light up or reminds me of you.”

Karina waved a hand and shook her head. This wasn’t a night for another long conversation. She didn’t have the wherewithal to tear herself open further. Perhaps some things truly were exactly what they seemed but when she learned to examine everything, to keep vigilant even when off-duty…it was hard to turn it off.

“Without you, I would have put it back and let my rational side win out. I do like it. I’ll find something to pair it with, I’m sure.”

“Would you wear it tomorrow?”

Karina’s brows dipped in confusion as she tore her gaze from the distant islands and looked up at him.

Zhongli reached over and gently brushed his fingers over the hairpiece before he clarified, “Regardless of its compatibility with your wardrobe. Tomorrow’s Rite is…one to be remembered and it would mean a great deal to me.”

And there he went again, blurring the line even further. One second, he separated himself from his Godhood and the next, he was speaking to her as more than just Zhongli. Her mind understood the difference; her heart did not. Her heart wanted to burst from her chest and tear her asunder in its yearning for the figure before her despite her frustration for the Archons and all they stood for.

The longing won out and Karina swallowed before she nodded in agreement.

“I’ll probably still be compelled to match it,” she warned, allowing herself to approach the edge of the thin precipice they seemed to always walk together. “But yes, I’ll wear it.”

Her heart only knew the price of pulling away the final veil between them, all but lifted.

She could not bring herself to tear it away.

Not without more than lip service to emotions she was still trying to understand.

Not yet.

#verse: of blood and sparks #genshin impact oc #genshin impact original character #fanfiction #fanfic #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin oc #OC: Karina Alexandre

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xviruserrorx · 1 year

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Title: "The Rain Before The Rainbow"

Chapter 6/7: "Hurt And Grief But Don't Suffer Alone Engage With The Pain As A Motive" (DRAFT)

(Prev Chap-Edited) (Next Chap-Edited) • (Prev Chap-Non Edited)(Next Chap-Non Edited) • (Edited Chapter) • (Story Masterlist)

This fic was originally written around late 2019-early 2020 ish, but was abandoned for reasons and now I'm gonna re-write it to but I have a no-delete rule so I'm posting all the original drafts here for anyone who still wants to see them. "But Virus these are terribly written" you may say and, yeah I know, this story was one of the first things I had written after a 5-6 year writing hiatus... But here they are terrible Grammer and all!

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy (Tv & Comics)

Relationship(s): Five | The Boy & Everyone

Character(s): Five | The Boy, Klaus Hargreeves, Diego Hargreeves, Allison Hargreeves, Vanya | Viktor Hargreeves, OC - Ymir Cyprus

Important Tag(s): Alternative Universe - No Sparrow Academy, Comic Book Elements, Time Traveling, Five-Centric

Rating: Teen and Up

Warning(s): Major Character Death, Cannon Character Death

Word Count: 7,008/41,006

The Hargreeves return from 1963 and find they have averted the initial Apocalypse. The siblings return to life as it once was but now together and not expecting impending doom. Five begins to adjust to life with his siblings how it used to be but knows something is missing. By something, he means someone. What happens when Five decides to jump back in time and try to save Ben. Is he successful? Or will he face the consequences of his actions?

"The End To The Beginning, The Beginning To The End" - Tumblr | Ao3

->Next: N/A

Continue reading below or read the edited version on Ao3

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Five (POV)

Five started with the whole "7 superhero children who were adopted by an eccentric billionaire and raised together for the purpose to save the world."

Ymir stayed quiet the whole time mostly just focused on getting his wound to stop bleeding as he explained the unimaginable.

"Just imagine me with a black and white mask and jumpsuit." Five said now feeling slightly more lightheaded than before.

"So you're one of those Umbrella kids in the newspapers?"

Five adjusted himself and pulled up his sleeve revealing his tattoo on his wrist, "We were all numbered 1 through 7 and those were our names…. Hence why my name is Five."

"But your siblings all have names and you guys also have code names?" She said to Five making sure she got it right.

Five nodded his head, "Number Four's name is Klaus but his code name is 00.04 and is known by the public as The Séance; due to him practically being a human Ouija board."

She moved her hand behind his back and helped him stand up, putting most of his weight against the wall.

"So why don't you have a normal name?"

Five adjusted his weight to his right side and leaned his arm on the wall, "I just never wanted a name really, we were always just numbers, never anything more."

She sighed and glanced down at his wound, "We can go to the cafe under the house and I have a first aid kit in the backroom to patch you up." She looked towards where the sound of the sirens was coming from.

"We can sneak through the back door so we're not seen." She turned back around to Five who nodded his head at her. Her baby during all this had fallen asleep with the explaining of his atypical life.

She led the way as Five followed closely behind leaning on any wall he could be near for support. She led him through twists and turns of the back alley that made Five with his concussed brain confused about where they were.

The already setting sun made it hard to see exactly where she was going, even with the street lights flickering on it was still hard to make out her silhouette. The distant sirens were becoming louder and louder as they continued to walk, the piercing noise making his head throb worse.

He didn't notice when Ymir stopped and was looking back at him. He looked slightly down and saw her hand extended out towards him with her palm up. He knew what she wanted him to do… yet a part of him wanted to reject her offer. The last time he held onto somebody was when he brought all his siblings back to their timeline.

Slowly he lifted his hand and laid it in her palm, she held his hand as you would with a child when crossing a busy street. Her hand was warm and held onto his smaller hand almost like she was protective of him.

He came to a sudden halt when he ran into her, not noticing she had stopped walking. She gave him a concerned glance then moved her attention back over to what she was looking at.

"That thing you did earlier…..that's your power?" She whispered to him but her attention was still drawn to around the corner.

"Those are called spatial jumps or blinking as my siblings like to call it, I can teleport anywhere I want if my powers aren't depleted…… it's also how I got here." This really was a lot of explaining to do.

"Why didn't you try to leave before?"

Five swallowed and looked down, he didn't try to leave at any point, he felt like he could trust her for some reason. She had this parental feel to her and treated him like Diego and Allison treated him, despite him constantly reminding them he isn't a child. She reminded him of his siblings and where they were that was always home, never the mansion and all the cold memories it held but the 6 other people who he called his siblings even though they were all adopted.

Five didn't answer her question but instead leaned over and saw what she was staring at. Some police officers were already at the scene checking out the front of the shophouse, some going up the spiraling staircase that connected on the outside up to the front door of the house on top. The bottom part that was the shop was gated closed and had all the doors locked and lights off along with a sign that hung from the doorknob with the word 'closed' painted on it.

"We need to get in that door at the back," she pointed towards a door encased within the black gate they had run out of earlier. Five knew he could probably blink them to the area but it was risking it with the flash of blue it would create attracting all the officers.

Five hated cops, the only exception was Diego of course and his lady cop friend that helped out Diego. Their constant scrounging in the Umbrella Academy's business always made things extra hard for them. Five looked and saw no way of both of them getting over there without getting caught.

Five heard a gasp as Ymir pushed Five against a wall as well as herself against the wall too. Five could see from the corner of his eye two beams of lights getting closer to the place as he could hear the sound of gravel crunching underneath car tires.

'Who was there?'

Five heard the slam of a car door then a man's voice asking questions to the officers. Ymir peaked over the corner of the wall before suddenly whispering, "Now."

She pulled at his hand as he ran behind her towards the black gate. He turned and saw all the officers turned away and talking to a man in a business suit standing in front of an old beat-up mustang.

'The Husband'

She let go of his hand when they reached the gate and opened it letting Five in first before quietly closing it back up. She reached into a broken lamp that was hanging on the wall outside the back door and pulled out a key, sticking it into the lock and opening the door. Once again she pushed Five in first before stepping in and locking the door behind her.

It was completely pitch black aside from a digital clock that shone out brightly. The numbers 8:05 made Five realise how much time he had left to figure all this out to save Ben.

He blinked his eyes a couple of times as the whole place was illuminated revealing what looked like a backroom. Cots with blankets and pillows along with other chairs or bean bags were shoved into one corner of the room. The other side had a collection of cardboard boxes along with what looked similar to how their kitchen looked. A small fridge with a marble counter and cupboards stood against the wall that held another door which Five guessed went out to the main restaurant area.

There was another spiral staircase in the middle of the room that led up to a pull-down door. Ymir quickly went up the staircase and clipped the lock closed that was dangling from the handle.

Five saw her move over towards a cot covered in blankets and laid the baby down. She rushed over towards a cabinet pulling out a red box with the words 'first aid' printed on the top and walking over to Five.

She patted the flat counter, "hop up here." Five moved towards the counter but realised how tall it really was as it came up to almost his shoulders.

'Stupid 13-year-old body'

He saw a small smile creep up on Ymir's face as she moved a box over for him to step on. Five stepped up on the box and slid himself onto the counter, disposing of the blood-covered shawl, and shrugged off his blazer and vest. He would have to remember to scrub the blood out of all his clothes later.

Ymir motioned for him to lay down as he unbuttoned the very bottom buttons of his shirt and pulled his (once) white undershirt up just enough.

Five immediately wanted to close his eyes as his head hit the cool counter. His head was pounding and the throbbing feeling every time he breathed reminded him of his bruised ribs. Five let his eyes close for a second too long when a burning pain on his left where the wound was made him cry out. She was cleaning off the wound and mumbling something that Five couldn't make out as everything blurred.

"....ive."

"...H…..Ive," He tried to open his eyes at hearing something but failed and let them fall closed.

"Hey…..Five," the pain had subsided a little bit as he finally opened his eyes looking in front of him.

"Hey you need to stay awake sweetheart, does your head hurt?" 'Sweetheart', the endearment word made him want to laugh at the time Diego tried to get away with calling him that, but Five grabbed the closest thing to him (which happened to be a pair of heels that either belonged to Allison or Klaus) and chucked them at Diego.

He already missed them from what little time he was already gone. He didn't know if it was because of how delirious of the amount of pain he was in or his 13-year-old emotions taking over, but he felt like crying. He missed his siblings, he missed waking up in the morning to Diego making breakfast for everyone, Klaus' antics and rambling that never stopped, Vanya and her violin playing when she stayed over at the academy, Allison and her mother henning of the siblings, and even Luther and his grouchy attitude.

The thought didn't dawn on him that, that all was gone. Everything hit him at once and he never got a chance to process it all like usual. His siblings were dead, he had Diego's knife and Klaus' lighter in his pocket, they were gone and it was his fault.

Five felt the tears well up in his eyes as he tried to blink them away, swallowing past the lump in his throat as he nodded his head at Ymir's question. Eyes peered down at him with sympathy as he tried to look away from her glare, with his tears now streaming down his face.

He saw her with a needle and thread ready in one hand, probably to stitch the wound shut but she looked hesitant as Five brought his hands up to his face to wipe away the tears.

She carefully placed a hand on his shoulder, "I don't have any anesthetic on hand so this is gonna hurt a lot…… Ready?"

A nod of his head started the familiar pain of a needle piercing his skin threading and a thread pulling through it multiple times. He grimaced and winced at the action but he knew his tears were for something more than physical pain.

Five heard a pair of shears open and snap shut as the thread was knotted off and a white bandage was set in place. He pushed himself up so he was sitting, letting his now blood-stained white undershirt fall back down. He turned his head into the upper part of his sleeve, wiping the remaining tears collected in his eyes.

Silence filled the room as he buttoned up and tucked back in his shirt, grabbing his blazer and vest slipping them back over his head. He wanted to just save Ben and go home, two simple tasks yet they proved to be the most difficult.

"Where did you learn to do this?" He asked Ymir at seeing her perfect stitching compared to his that he'd done in the past.

She sat down in a chair, "My grandmother was a war nurse back in World War 1 and the Korean war, after World War One she had my mother but shortly after when she went out into the Korean war she was shot and killed. My mother followed after her and did the same in Vietnam but couldn't handle it anymore with so many young kids dying right in front of her. When I was born she taught me everything she knew."

Five remembered Klaus talking about Vietnam before but he never really got the details or bothered to ask him, "Why didn't you do the same?"

She quickly turned towards Five and let her expression soften a bit, "I was almost finished with nursing school when I met my husband and we both adopted a little boy. I had planned to finish and go into the nursing field but I got a call one day, my mother had passed away in a plane crash. After that, I used up all my savings and opened this cafe, a couple of years passed and I was considering going back to the medical field then I got pregnant December year before last……. We were all ecstatic to have another part of the family."

She stood up from the chair, straightening out her dress, and started rummaging through some boxes, "Five months into the pregnancy we found out it was a girl, and Pascal; our little boy who actually was about your age was so excited to be a big brother."

Five stepped down on the box and got down on the floor as he looked around, now taking in the whole area of where he was at.

"A week later he went into complete lung failure due to an infection in his port and was put into a medically induced coma." Five immediately stopped in his tracks and turned towards Ymir now listening more carefully than before.

"He had Cystic Fibrosis so he never had long but we never expected that to happen at that moment. A month passed and he never woke up, we chose to take him off the ventilator. After that everything went downhill, I don't think I ever want to do anything medical again." Five heard her chuckle on the last part but could still hear how her voice wavered through it all.

He wasn't good with comfort or dealing with others emotions that he himself could barely understand. They were never raised to be compassionate people or care about others but rather just save the world and be the best. He didn't know exactly what this disease was either so he had no way of knowing what exactly she meant entirely.

"Enough about me though…… you said you and your siblings are all the same age yet, not trying to be rude, you don't particularly look or act 16." He really should have started with the whole 58-year-old in a 13-year-olds body that is supposed to be 29 but time travel just likes to fuck things up………. Oh well

"I'm actually 13- well mentally and physically 13, I have the experience and conscious of a 58-year-old." She raised her eyebrow with a confused look on her face at him.

"Um... the time travel thing I told you I could do, the actual timeline right now it's 2019 and my siblings are all 29….. I time-traveled when I was 13 back in 2002 to the future which happened to be April 1st of 2019." Five paused and leaned up against a wall.

'This made zero sense'

"That day the Apocalypse happened where I remained the next 45 years give or take," Yup just keep going at least one thing will make sense.

"Eventually I was able to time travel back to March 24 of 2019 but because of the whole time and space continuum, I ended back up in my 13-year-old self again." Should he mention the 60s? Probably not.

"We had to divert the apocalypse twice but then we were able to return back to our timeline April 2nd the day after the apocalypse." He looked up at her expecting her to think he was crazy but instead, she looked serious.

"Okay, so how did you end up here in 2006?" She questioned him.

'Ah right'

"A couple of days ago I time-traveled from 2019 back 13 years because in….," Five looked down and checked the time on his watch.

8:40

"A day and 3 hours give or take one of my brothers die and I want to prevent that."

Another minute of silence filled the air as Five readjusted his weight onto his right side off of the fresh wound and stitches. He needed a plan of some sort and he needed to act on it soon and fast. So many things were racing through his head at having about a day to save his brother and figure out exactly how to do just that.

Ymir walked over to a door with no doorknob and pushed it open. Five trailed after her to reveal the rest of the small cafe. Small tables with two chairs on each side were placed at the corners of the cafe while much bigger tables and booths were either pushed to the walls or arranged simplistically. Metals shutters covered the see-through laminated glass walls most businesses had letting small streams of light occasionally peak through. Even with nothing being made the lingering smell of coffee and baked goods tinged the air as he followed her over to what looked like the kitchen.

They both stopped in front of a rather small door almost like something out of Alice In Wonderland while he saw her pull a ring of keys off of a nearby hook. A small bronze key was pressed between her fingers as she inserted the piece of copper into the lock turning it till there was a click.

She pushed it open and stepped back, "There's a spiral staircase in there that goes up the side of the shop and the house up to the roof in case we need to get out." She hung the keys back up but kept the door unlocked letting it close so it wasn't hanging open.

'Why were there so many secret compartments in this place!?'

They both looked up as they heard heavy footsteps followed by knocking on the house above them. Ymir put her finger over her lips and pointed back over to the door that they had both just came out of. Five walked back over to the door holding it so it didn't make noise as it swung shut until Ymir walked through and did the same, softly closing it.

His powers were useless at this point; he was too weak and had no energy, he just had to rely on running and walking like normal people. He knew Ymir wouldn't let him out of her sight so he already had to find a way to escape without her noticing.

Ymir led him over to other cots and blankets and pillows that were all on one side of the room with Imogen (the baby) asleep in one.

Five sit on the edge of one of them as Ymir stared down at her baby, "That man… was he your husband?"

Her eyebrows creased at the mention of him as she pursed her lips before nodding her head at him. He knew it was her husband but saying that right out of the bat without any prior knowledge other than what she told him was sure to freak her out.

"Why didn't you go to him and let him know you're okay?" He was pushing it but he still couldn't tell her that the same man she was married to ends up killing her and her baby. Her warm smile that was present the whole time slowly disappeared as the words left his mouth.

"It's…. A lot to explain," the hold back on her words was made apparent. Five didn't question it any further as she sat down on the cot in the middle of Him and her baby.

"We can stay in here tonight… my husband never comes down here to the cafe and even then he doesn't have any of the keys to the doors." She started laying out blankets on the cot and grabbed some laying them next to Five.

He couldn't stay here, he knew that yet the still occurring thought of her situation made Five uneasy. Five scooted back on the cot, pulling his feet up and crossing them in front of him.

Finally having a moment to take everything in he realized how itchy his cheeks were probably from dried tears that he didn't wipe away. His clothes reeked of blood and sweat which smelled all too familiar. Everything was calm and these small movements made him feel and process all that had happened.

His head throbbed and so did the rest of his body, as the thought of how many injuries his body had sustained over the small period. His head felt like it had been tumbling around in the dryer for some time, while he knew for a fact his ribs probably looked like an artist pallet with blacks, blues, purples, and reds.

The room had a crisp chill to it Five never took note of before as he looked at the blankets neatly folded up next to him. The top one looked to be some sort of embroidered quilt with different flower patterns all stitched into it creating multiple bouquets on the quilt. While the other blankets piled under were plainer and of a single color.

Across the room, there was a set of four lockers pushed opposite of the small fridge and cupboards. An awning window laid on top of the lockers that looked to be unlocked. Boxes surrounded the lockers like nobody had used them for quite some time.

Five knew he would be able to fit through the small window and not make much noise to possibly escape. Compared to the other way Ymir showed him to get to the roof, he didn't know the layout of the house and for all he knew there would be no ladder up there to get down.

He had to pretend to be asleep until she herself went to sleep, from there he could get out. Five looked up at Ymir and saw her just sitting on the cot with blankets she laid out, looking over her baby. Five turned and noticed close to her was a little boy in a picture frame, it wasn't there before she must have grabbed it from the boxes when she was rummaging.

The fact that he looked about 13, maybe older, and his jet black hair and eyes all made it apparent that this was the little boy she was talking about. Five wanted to question why something like that was shoved into a cardboard box to be forgotten.

The boy had pink highlights on the tips of his hair mostly on the bangs that curled up and hung down over the right side of his face. In the picture, he had his thumb up while holding a device of some sort in his mouth. A purple bulky looking vest was strapped around him like if he was going to go swim out in the sea. The only thing Five recognized was a nasal cannula that sat on the boy's face while the tubing wrapped in front of him off the frame of the picture.

"Is that your son," Five gestured over to the picture frame as he bent down to pull his shoes off, leaving him in his black knee-highs.

"Pascal, yeah that's him." He saw a smile return onto her face at the mention of him. She moved over and reached for the frame looking at it in her hands for a couple of seconds before offering it to Five.

Five took it in his hand and got a closer look at it. In the vest, some tubes came out and connected to a machine, while so were the other two things he was holding or connected to. The piece in his mouth had a clear tube going to a smaller machine that laid on the table in front of him. The oxygen was connected to a large blue machine in the background of the photo, while there was something else hanging out from over the vest with a clamp of some sort on it.

With all the tubes wrapped around him, he was still smiling into the camera of whoever had taken the photo.

"All the wires and tubes and everything is just his treatments to keep his lungs clear as possible," Ymir commented as Five handed back over the frame.

"So... it's a lung condition?" He really has never heard of what he had so this was new to Five.

"You could say that, but it's a gene mutation that causes all the mucus in your body to become really thick and sticky….which causes of course the breathing problems and many other things." She set the picture frame back down next to her as she laid down on the cot.

Five shrugged off his blazer and hung it on the end of the cot, but kept his vest and other things on. If he was gonna have to make a run for it he only needed to grab his shoes and blazer and not have to get fully dressed. Ymir's back was to him from the cot a few feet as he slid off his watch and faced it towards him.

9:17

Five struggled to keep his eyes open as the night passed and turned to the next day when the time ticked 12. Five grabbed his watch in his hand and sat up slowly so as to not make any noise. Sliding his blazer on he stood up and walked over to Ymir, peeking over and making sure she was asleep which she was. Five walked back over and grabbed his shoes and opted to just carry them as they would probably make noise.

He began making his way over to the boxes and lockers to climb up on to get to the window. Reaching up on his tippy-toes he slid his shoes on the top of the lockers and jumped on the first box looking back over making sure Ymir was still asleep. Crawling up on the next two boxes Five reached up and pulled himself up on top of the metal lockers. He grabbed his shoes and unhooked the latch from the bottom of the window pushing it open as far as it would go.

Five turned around where Ymir and her baby still laid asleep completely unaware of what was going on.

"I'm sorry," Five whispered to no one but himself as he put his feet first through the window and climbed through it.

Five tumbled to the ground outside the cafe, immediately remembering the stitches he had in his side as he hit the floor. He groaned as he pushed himself up trying not to make noise as the window was still opened. Slipping his shoes back on he looked around the area finally assessing it all.

He had no time or direction as to where the people who are planning to cause trouble for his siblings or to find them. He needed to get back to the academy and his only choice was to prevent them from ever leaving. Yes, it would mean waiting around for something to happen which method he wasn't very fond of. But if it allowed him to save Ben that's what he was willing to do.

Five found his way through the back alleys that he had gone through when he had gotten shot which originally started at the academy. He had to go the same way he got here, the same way back and it allowed him to stay out of sight.

Using the walls for support he made his way through all the twists and turns until he once again stood across from the Academy. The normal residence of the Umbrella Academy stood in front of him yet something unfamiliar stuck out to Five.

Diego was outside probably on patrol duty which Five definitely remembered often having to do double shifts if he or the others misbehaved. What caught his attention was who came out the front doors of the Academy as they were almost unrecognizable. With a duffle bag slung over their shoulder and what looked to be a guitar case of some sort in hand, they walked over to Diego.

Five quickly scrambled behind a post box that was nearby hoping the two didn't see him as he continued to peak over.

The short black hair and black leather outfit made Five immediately think it was Klaus but found the height and frame for the person too petite for it to be their lengthy brother. They stopped in front of Diego and brought a hand up to remove the pair of sunglasses they had on despite it being night.

"You are gonna ditch patrol right?" The voice shocked Five as it was the same one he had heard when inside the Academy a few days ago.

Vanya?!

The short jet-black hair had completely slipped past Five when he first saw her. Having mostly just caught glimpses of it more than actually looking at it long enough to process.

The makeup and outfit made her almost unrecognizable to Five compared to the academy pyjamas he saw her in previously.

"I already told you, I'll meet you downtown at Spider's, then we take the cash and leave this place behind in the dust." The way Diego referred to the Academy and talked, Five once again didn't understand what he was talking about.

"Got it, don't be late this time hot-head." The nickname for Diego made Five snicker to himself a bit as Vanya started walking down the street away from the Academy. Five was curious about what they were both doing but knowing Diego was gonna be there later on, Five started to follow Vanya.

She quickly walked down the road and caught a taxi, throwing her luggage in first before hopping in the car. Five curled his hands into fists letting the familiar blue aura surround them as he blinked into a nearby taxi. Five fell lopsided in the back seat rather than in the passenger seat which he was aiming for, as that assured him not to use his powers anymore.

The guy freaked out and started rummaging through his glove compartment before Five reached into his pocket and pulled out his switchblade on him.

Pressing it to his the guy stopped moving, "follow that car or you'd be wishing you took the day shift." He placed his hands on the wheel as he began to follow closely behind the taxi Vanya was in.

Five glanced down at his watch as both cars came to a stop across from what looked like a nightclub. Five flicked the blade closed as he stepped out of the car and smiled at the man, "pleasure doing business with you."

The car quickly sped away while he turned his attention back towards where Vanya had just gone. He kept his distance behind her until she entered the club, Five wouldn't be able to get in there. Rounding the building Five caught sight of multiple people all with instruments or dressed up in a certain way. Vanya came out of a door as she met up with what looked like a chimp almost like Pogo. She quickly unpacked the instrument and started tuning it up while the other chimp drummed out a beat on the nearby wall with his drumsticks.

"Where's that brother of yours?" The chimp asked Vanya while Five tried to get closer to hear what they were saying over the loud music in the club.

"Don't worry, Body he'll be here." As Vanya said that a roar of cheering was heard inside followed by 4 guys coming through the door drenched in sweat and covered in black makeup head to toe.

A tall well-built guy walked through the door and approached the two Five was watching, "Prime 8's you guys are up in 30, get your gear on stage while the crowd is still hyped."

'Prime 8's?'

Both of them began grabbing wrapped up cables, amps, and Vanya grabbed her guitar as they went through the door everyone was coming in and out of.

'Vanya and Diego were in a band together?'

Five knew Diego was the one who did ever treat Vanya like she wasn't one of Klaus' ghosts but rather their sister….. But no one ever told him they were in a band together. Five couldn't even remember if he read this in Vanya's book either as it seemed this whole part she skipped over mostly cutting to the chase of Ben's death.

Five continued to watch as they both finished setting up and continued to wait in this backstage area. Vanya started to pace the area as she kept frantically checking the clock that was on the wall.

'Prime 8's!!!'

Five could hear the chanting of the crowd getting louder as the 30 minutes came and went. The same guy from before walked over to both of them looking quite frustrated, "You guys are on, where's The Kraken?"

"He'll be here I promise, Spider just give him a couple of minutes," Vanya pleaded to who Five now knew was 'Spider'.

"You got 10 minutes for him to show up till I throw The Azmatics on stage." Five had a hunch that Diego wasn't coming but he didn't understand why as it seemed he actually meant what he said to Vanya.

He saw Vanya walk over to a payphone on the wall and dialed a series of numbers into it. She tapped her foot for a while before taking the phone away from her ear and slamming it back down on the receiver. Her pacing and the way she held herself definitely reminded Five that this was the same Vanya from when they were 13 and currently 29.

A minute ticked by as she reached into her pocket, popped the top of a small colored bottle, and swallow the pills dry. He wanted to reach out and tell her to stop popping what she thought was anxiety medication like candy. The rest of the minutes flew by as the crowd got louder, most likely getting impatient and some of the other bands started complaining. Yet there still was no sign of Diego as the tall man, Spider marched out the door towards Vanya.

"You and your band are lucky I even gave you a chance, now go get your gear off my stage before I let it get trashed, you're wasting my time."

"Most of the people in there bought those tickets because we were performing, not because they wanted to see any of these other opening bands," Vanya yelled at the very much taller and buff guy in front of her.

"After what happened last week with your psycho brother, you probably both don't belong here." The buff man snarled at Vanya as he turned back around to the doors.

Vanya turned around and faced the chimp whose name was Body, "5 minutes Body, he probably just got caught up in something." The next band up started collecting their stuff running past Vanya as the chimp began to pull on a jacket.

"He might be right Vanya, you're good on that guitar you can find others to play with. But that hot-headed brother of yours can't even show up for a gig on time…… I'm sorry Vanya but the Prime-8's are through." He walked out the door, to get to the stage and collect the items. Vanya hurriedly collected her guitar and duffle bag before starting to walk away from the club.

'Shit!'

Five ran around the corner and hid in the crowd of people as Vanya started to walk down the street both things in tow. Taking random turns and twists it seemed she was just wasting time rather than going somewhere. Vanya reached into her pocket taking out a cigarette and lighting it she leaned up against a store window with the news broadcasting. Five stayed behind a far distance but close enough to hear what was going on.

"The Horror and The Sèance of The Umbrella Academy are injured in an encounter with a gang in their hideout. Then The Rumour and Spaceboy were subdued….all hope was lost until The Kraken came to the rescue saving everyone and knocking out the leader of the gang…"

'They were called on a mission'

Five almost questioned whether he should have stayed at the Academy to see what exactly happened. He heard a scoff from Vanya as she threw the cigarette on the ground, putting it out before walking off down the road. She stopped at a crosswalk and hailed a taxi.

Five got closer as the taxi came to a stop and she threw her belongings into the back seat, "To the airport please, if you step on it there's 40 bucks in it for you."

'Vanya was...leaving?'

She was leaving the day before their brother died. Why was none of this in her book, why had no one told him any of this!?

Vanya slammed the taxi door closed and it sped away from where Five stood, confused, still injured, and feeling things he wasn't completely sure what they were.

He looked down at his watch and it told him it was already 2:40 in the morning. The streets had begun to die down as the time got closer to 3 leaving Five still standing where Vanya had just left. It was technically already the last day before everything was bound to happen.

He had screwed up too many times to count already from leaving his own timeline in the first place to getting caught in a trap set just for him. He was lost in his head, and with tears already had been shed he wanted everything to just be a bad dream.

A night terror he would be screaming bloody murder from, completely unaware of his siblings' attempts to comfort him until he fell back asleep and didn't remember any of it in the morning.

Asleep in his bed, clothed in his academy pyjamas probably with Diego or Allison sitting at the edge of his bed with worry painted on their face. Then breakfast would be made as all 5 other siblings clomped down the stairs with Diego already in the kitchen being very much motherly (although would never admit it) and making the siblings whatever they desired.

Yet here he was standing, wasting time and being absolutely useless. He was mocked by Klaus for having an obsession with the apocalypse, but maybe he was just addicted to making sure his family wasn't hurt or even injured. Every time someone almost died or did die he reversed time and prevented it in one way or another never allowing them to pass away…….to leave him.

In a way, he was being selfish, yet he was given powers to manipulate time as he chose. He wasn't even sure if he would be able to properly cope with any of their deaths without being tempted to fuck with the timeline.

Five began to walk in a familiar direction but not the Academy. The stitches pulled every step he took causing him more pain as he was sure they would break open again if he didn't stop running around aggravating the wound. His unreasonable anger distracted him from the pain as he pushed himself to walk faster away from the area the taxi had sped away from moments ago.

He didn't understand why he was angry, he knew all the events surrounding everything with Ben's death were kept under lock and keep by his siblings. But he didn't know so many things happened that even the world didn't from what Vanya wrote so many years later that tore the siblings even farther apart.

Reading that stupid book was all Five had of a memory of his siblings when every living thing was dead and humanity was wiped out. He thought he had a piece of his childhood back from that book after missing 16 years of it. But apparently, he couldn't even have that as most of it seemed to be based on a lie like Allison's rumours.

Five didn't notice his nails digging into the fleshy part of his palm until he kicked a nearby trash can, running his hands over his face. He needed to be saving Ben not worrying about everything else, yet it seemed like everything was hopeless. He started to walk which quickly progressed into a full-on sprint. Every inch of his body screamed at his actions yet his mind felt it was just right.

He could feel blisters starting to form on the soles of his feet as they rubbed up against dress shoes which were not made for running. Yet he continued to run as every breath grew harder to take. The deep breaths quickly turned to sobs as he kept running, choking on his tears. He knew not to fuck with the timeline yet here he was in 2006 alone and finding out secrets he now knew why his family hid from him. All his emotions were getting tangled up like earbuds forgotten in someone's pocket or backpack.

He ran and ran and ran till he couldn't anymore. His watch eventually struck 4 then 5 then 6 and so on and so forth. The birds chirped as the moon switched with the sun as life bounced back to the streets. Yet somewhere tucked behind an old building The smallest Hargreeves laid there passed out, lifeless and unconscious…..

#virusfanfic

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dreamcatcherfication · 4 years

Text

Skin Deep - Round Two

Part two of my fic that no one’s going to read, huzzah! This is my Beauty Queens AU (which is a very misleading title but whatever) that immediately goes horribly wrong so... I hope you all enjoy it! Sorry for any spelling/grammatical errors, I wrote this through tears while watching All You Wanna Do animatics.

Writing Masterpost

If you want to send a request or a prompt, my inbox is always open! I publish a story at 8:00 AM PST everyday, so I’m always in need of new ideas (now featuring random asks). If you want to be tagged in any of my works, just let me know which ones and I’ll be sure to tag you!

Prompts | More Prompts | The Trifecta of Prompts | Random Asks

Trigger Warnings: Talk about attempted rape and sexual assault, victim blaming

Part 1

It didn’t take long for the cops to arrive after Jane and Aragon called them. The girls were still huddled together in the judging room when loud footsteps echoed through the hall. Cathy looked up from her spot next to Anne and glanced at Jane and Catherine by the doorway. Aragon had her head out in the hall and was waving down someone - presumably the police - while Jane kept her eyes fixed on Kit. There was pain hiding behind her eyes, but she made no move to show it.

When the cops walked in the room, Cathy carefully peeled Anne away from Kit so that there wouldn’t be too many people crowding her cousin. Anne made a sound of protest but she let Cathy pull her away. Not even a machine powered buzzsaw could separate Anna and Kit though, so no one tried. There was a horde of cops at the door, but only two of them actually entered the room. “You girls okay?” one of the cops asked Jane and Catherine. The student judges both nodded and waved off the concern.

Both the cops were female, thank God, one dressed in the typical uniform while the other wore a suit, signifying she was a detective. The detective kneeled down next to Kit and gave her a kind smile. “Hey kid, how are you doing?”

Kit peeked out from Anna’s hold and immediately her eyes darted everywhere but the detective’s. “M’fine,” Kit mumbled, hiding the tears that were gathering in her eyes.

The other cop was still standing back, but she was very clearly taking mental notes on the exchange. When she caught Cathy staring at her, the cop tipped her hat in acknowledgement. Slowly, Cathy nodded back at the cop. “Well we’re gonna take you somewhere safer than here, if that’s okay with you.”

There was silence as Kit thought about it. “Can Anna come? And Annie and Cathy?” she asked, looking over at her cousin.

“Of course,” the detective assured the volatile teen. The detective stood up and scanned all the girls. She tried to appear warm and inviting, but the same cold, analytical gaze all detectives had was what she was wearing instead. “I’m Detective Bessie Blount, but you can call me Bessie. This is Officer Maggie Lee -”

Maggie jumped in, a much more natural grin on her face, “I’m her partner.”

“Technically you’re still an officer.”

“I should be a detective.”

“You would be a detective if you quit violating task force etiquette,” the two of them lightly bickered.

The ridiculousness of it made Kitty let out a small giggle, so none of the girls complained at the strangeness of the interaction. “Whatever, you’re still stuck with me,” Maggie stuck her tongue out at Bessie childishly.

Rolling her eyes, Bessie returned her attention to the girls on the floor. “Two of you can ride with me and Maggie will drive the other two to the station.”

Sighing, Anne answered, “Kit and Anna aren’t separating anytime soon, Cathy and I will ride together.”

Maggie nodded. “Alright, you two can come with me. Bessie, you got them?”

“Yeah, you go on ahead.” Maggie held her hand out and helped Anne stand up. The three of them exited the room together, Cathy giving a small wave to Jane and Catherine who were speaking with the other police officers right outside the room.

Leading them out of the building, Maggie was surprisingly carefree for a police officer. Some of the contestants peaked out of their dressing rooms to watch Cathy and Anne, confused as to why police were in the building. Shivering, Cathy realized there would be a million rumors circulating by the end of the day. Finally, outside of the building, the girls were exposed to the fresh air. Cathy hadn’t known how constricted her lungs were until she was out of that building.

Unlocking the door to her car, Maggie ushered Anne and Cathy inside. “Alright girls, it’s only a short ride down to the precinct, but I know how scary it can be. If you need to talk to me or each other about something, don’t hesitate just because you’re in a cop’s car. And there’s candy under the middle seat if you want it.”

Without a second of hesitation, Anne reached under the seat and gasped when there was in fact a bag of candy hidden there. Cathy laughed at her girlfriend’s shock. “You hide candy in your car? Is this what Detective Blount was talking about with violating etiquette?” Cathy asked the officer.

“Hey,” Maggie chuckled, “you bust enough criminals for hiding drugs, you learn a thing or two.”

Stopping with a tootsie roll already halfway down her throat, Anne’s eyes widened. “Wait, are you saying these are drugs -”

“No!” Maggie laughed, “No, they aren’t drugs. I got them from Walmart. Geez, kids are so much more uptight than I remember,” she playfully joked. Turning on the engine, Maggie pulled her seatbelt on. “Make sure you’re wearing your seatbelts, I’d hate to have to arrest you for something like that.”

As serious as a situation they were in, Maggie was doing a great job of dispelling the tension of it. It made Cathy wish all police officers tried to be more friendly than aggressive. If she was in a murder investigation, she would tell Maggie far more than those men she always saw on the news. “Officer Lee,” Cathy started.

“Please, call me Maggie, formalities are stupid.”

More and more, Cathy was starting to see what Bessie referred to as ‘violating task force etiquette’. “Okay, um, Maggie. What’s going to happen to us?”

Watching the two teens through her mirror, Maggie frowned. “What do you mean?”

“We mean,” Anne picked up the conversation, “When we get to the station, are they going to question us? Is Culpeper going to be arrested? Is Kit going to be okay?”

Clicking her hand on the wheel as they waited at a red light, Maggie sighed. “Look kid, those are a lot of questions and I can’t give you all the answers. You and your friends are all going to be questioned so we can get a story. If there’s a case -”

“If,” Anne yelped incredulously, “If there’s a case? Of course there’s a case! My cousin was almost raped and you’re questioning whether that’s a case or not?”

Cathy knew Anne was prone to outbursts, especially when it came to people she cared about. Maggie seemed to anticipate this too, so she made sure to keep herself calm. “I don’t doubt you, but this case’ll probably go to court. If you don’t have a story, there won’t be a case and your cousin’s assaulter won’t be brought to justice. I’m going to try and help you as best as possible, but you’ve got to cooperate.”

“You said,” Cathy broke in, “that this will probably go to court. Are we going to be witnesses?”

Maggie made a turn before answering. “Yeah, all three of us will probably be witnesses, but you two and Boleyn’s cousin will be the most important. You two witnessed the crime and your cousin’s the victim.”

“Don’t call her a victim,” Anne mumbled, crossing her arms. Cathy reached out and put a hand on her girlfriend’s knee, a source of comfort in the small police car.

It was obvious Maggie was trying to keep a positive atmosphere, but it was difficult with the reality of everything. Instead, the three girls fell into silence and waited for the ride to be over. It wasn’t much longer before they actually arrived at the precinct and were brought inside.

Bypassing all the front desk sign ins, Maggie led the girls into a conference room. “We’ll question you two later, but right now we’re just going to get all the witnesses together before we start. It’s important to have all the pieces so we can build you a strong case,” Maggie noted. She left the room, leaving Anne and Cathy alone.

Letting out a loud breath, Anne sunk to the floor. “Cathy,” she groaned. “Why did this have to happen?”

Kneeling down next to her girlfriend, Cathy tried to pull Anne into a hug. “We’ll get through this -”

“I know we will!” Anne shouted, pounding her fists against the floor in frustration. “We’ll get through this just fine, but Kitty’s gonna have to carry this with her for the rest of her life. If maybe we’d been a little quicker, I could’ve stopped him from getting to her.”

“No,” Cathy stated forcefully. “Don’t you dare go down that path of thinking Anne Boleyn. You did your best. You stopped him before things could get worse and you stayed by Kit’s side.”

“My best isn’t enough,” Anne spat at the ground.

Wrapping her arms around Anne, Cathy held her in a tight hug. If she could convey all her pride in her girlfriend, all her love in a single show of affection, she would do it at that moment. “Anne, you’re doing everything you can do, that’s what matters. It’s one of the reasons why I love you.”

An unintentional blush made its way to Anne’s cheeks, just as Cathy knew it would. “Thanks Cathy, you know I love you more than my heelys.”

“Isn’t it ‘you know I love you more than the world itself’?” Cathy raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, but I already love my heelys more than the world. I’m putting you above my heelys Cathy, my heelys, you should be kissing me senseless for that,” Anne scoffed.

Shrugging, Cathy replied cheekily, “If you say so,” and brought Anne in for a kiss. It was a sweet moment of stability and happiness, something they always found in the other. Pulling away, the two girls kept their gazes locked, the love in their eyes palpable in the air.

They were interrupted by the door opening, surprising the two girls on the floor. Standing in the doorway was Catherine and Jane, both of them nervous and awkward. “The officers told us to wait here,” Catherine offered when she noticed Cathy and Anne. The girlfriends stood up and made their way over to the conference table, sitting down on one end. Catherine purposefully sat down on the other end while Jane sat in the middle.

Anne and Cathy didn’t resume their conversation, too worried at being overheard by their new companions. Catherine kept shooting Anne mild glares while Jane tapped her foot lightly. “So…” Jane tried, hoping a conversation would pick up. Nobody even looked in her direction, so she dropped it and continued with her tapping.

Later, the door opened again, this time entering Kitty and Anna, followed by Detective Blount. “Go take a seat girls,” Bessie urged. Kit sat next to Anne, immediately grabbing her hand. Anna followed behind her, sitting on Kit’s other side in case the girl needed her. Observing the full table, Bessie instructed, “While Maggie and I prepare the case files, feel free to talk and mingle. You aren’t being recorded, so don’t worry about any of that. I’ll be back soon.” And then she closed the door, sealing the six girls inside together.

At first, no one talked. None of them wanted to, especially with the tense air surrounding them. They weren’t here for a birthday party, and they didn’t try to act like it. Again, it was Jane who tried to break the silence. “So… we’re all here -”

“Yeah, why are you here?” Anne asked with a hint of aggressiveness in her tone. Cathy couldn’t tell if it was left over from her outburst earlier or if it was specifically intended for Jane.

It was Aragon who answered for Jane. “We were the ones who called the police, and we’re associated with Culpeper. We’re a part of this case too, Boleyn.”

Anne sent a sneer in Catherine’s direction, but Cathy’s warm hand on her shoulder calmed her down. “It’s my fault you’re here, I’m sorry,” Kitty muttered, her voice only heard because of the silence of the rest of the room.

“Don’t apologize, dear,” Jane spoke before anyone else. “This is not at all your fault. We’re here to stop a sexual predator,” Kit winced, “and do the right thing. How could this possibly be your fault if you haven’t done anything wrong?”

Kitty seemed at a loss for words, but everyone else was too afraid to speak up. “I followed him into the room. I let him touch me.”

“You told him to stop,” Anne cut in.

“We heard it,” Cathy added, reaching across Anne to add her hand to the cousins’ intertwined ones.

Shrugging, Kit didn’t seem particularly convinced. “I could have tried harder. He just,” she started to shiver. Anna put her arms around Kit and let the girl rest against her. “He just started touching and I didn’t know what to do. He had been so nice during the other rounds, giving me presents when I won. I thought he was being nice because he thought I was talented. But he locked that door and,” her breath hitched in her throat, “he started tearing and ripping at my clothes, and I didn’t want him on me like that.” Her voice was shaking, the syllables broken and pitiful.

It was breaking Cathy’s heart to see Kit so torn up about Culpeper. In only a few moments he had torn her apart, leaving her scared and shameful of something that wasn’t her fault. Cathy could tell by the way Anne tensed up that her girlfriend was concealing fiery anger towards Culpeper. “He’ll be brought to justice, I promise,” Aragon gritted through her teeth. “My parents have a team of expert lawyers, he doesn’t stand a chance.”

“You have lawyers?” Anna gasped, “Girl I don’t even have lunch money.” Kitty let out a small laugh, knowing full well that Anna had plenty of lunch money - so much so that she saved it up and bought a sports car just so she could take up two spaces while parking to annoy some of the high school students who made fun of Kitty. (In reality, Anna much preferred her truck that she had made so many memories in).

Cathy noticed the way Kit perked up at Anna’s joke, so she nudged Anne, gaining her attention. “You think lunch money’s bad? Anne saved up three years worth of birthday money just to buy heelys!”

Again, Kitty was giggling at the absurdness of their claims. Jane and Aragon were catching onto the game, so they started to play along. “You get birthday money?” Jane asked. “I’m the Cinderella of my house. I do chores all day and I don’t even earn minimum wage!”

None of the jokes were particularly funny, but it felt good to be able to laugh when there was so much tension around them. Being dumb teenagers did in fact (despite what adults might say) have its benefits. “Chores are the worst,” Anne grumbled, playing up her annoyance. “They go ‘clean this, clean that’ but never do they say ‘this needs to be dirty’. Why can’t we have dirty things!?”

“Because that’s unsanitary babe,” Cathy explained, a twinkle in her eyes.

Scrunching her nose, Kitty gave Anne a disgusted look. “Yeah, remember when you tried to take us out for a picnic, but you thought washing the plates in lake water would clean them?”

“I’m sorry, she did what?” Aragon asked, her mouth agape.

“Mhmm,” Anna confirmed, “nearly got us all sick with whatever was in the water too.”

“I’d give her a 3/10 on Yelp reviews,” Cathy added.

Gasping in mock hurt, Anne turned to her girlfriend. “Only a 3 out of 10? Cathy, you wound me. I thought I was better than that.”

“Please, we all know Kit’s the ten amongst us threes,” Anna continued to tease Anne.

“There’s a reason she was going to win the pageant,” Jane confirmed from her spot at the table.

Everyone turned to look at her. “She was going to win?” Anne asked.

Smiling nervously and looking at Catherine, Jane nodded. “She’s an audience favorite, no one else got as many cheers as Katherine Howard. Besides, the counting was already done as soon as the last vote was in.” Cathy could tell Anne was internally cursing that her cheating plan wouldn’t have worked, but she was still glad Kitty had won.

“You hear that Kit, you’re a winner,” Anna told her.

Even as she tried to hide it, a smile grew on Kit’s face. “At least that’s one good thing.”

-------------------------------------

Tag list:

@annabanana2401

#six the musical fanfiction #six the musical fanfic #six the musical fic #six fanfiction #six fanfic #sixfic #skin deep #part two #tw: talk of rape #tw: victim blaming #i still don't know why this is #cathy's pov #when it's more kit centric than anything #but it makes the story interesting to write #maggie on the guitar #bessie on the bass #they're absolute badass cops #don't worry #maria and joan will show up soon #unfortunately things are going to get worse before they get better #i don't think anyone is actually interested in this fic #but i already planned it out #so you're stuck with it #cathy and anne are best girlfriends #they're so soft for each other #parrlyn #budding katanna #kitty is written as very defenseless and broken #but that's only because she's just gone through this traumatic event #she is strong and she will survive!

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testingcheats0n · 3 years

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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.

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.

#dream smp #dream smp fic rec #fic rec #sbi #wilbur soot #tommyinnit

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masterwords · 2 years

Text

the silence drowns (part ten)

Summary: Morgan interrupted Foyet in Hotch's apartment and saw everything. Now Hotch is staying with Jessica, Morgan is trying to figure out how to save the day and Foyet is on the road.

Warnings: blood, pain, stabbing, ICU, pain medication, attempted sexual assault, foyet's sick mind, a lot of very twisted shit here...he's pretty fucked up

Pairings: Hotch/Morgan

Words: 2.2k

Notes: Apologies for how long it's taking for me to be able to sit and write. Rather than making you wait for a complete Foyet-centric chapter, I decided to put up what I have edited now and give you the rest tomorrow. MORE CHAPTERS YAY.

Chapter List

Read on AO3: The Silence Drowns

For Foyet, sticking around after dropping Aaron off in the ER (as fun as it sounded and tempting tho it were) was impossible. He wandered the hospital halls for a bit, poked his head into storage closets and utility rooms, gathered a few things here and there that looked like fun. A few blue paper wrapped surgical kits, like little Christmas gifts, packed with masking tape and dates. He slipped them cautiously into his bag and snagged himself a white lab coat, just for the hell of it. Might need it. Might not. Didn't really matter. The last stop was the dirty laundry, a pair of scrubs covered in blood would do just fine, he didn't mind looking a little worse for wear. If he was going to come back, pay his friend a visit, he'd have to look the part.

It was late when he walked into the ICU, right past Derek Morgan with a surgical cap on his head and a mask over his face. His walk was brisk but tired, that of a surgeon on a long overnight call shift, something he'd picked up roaming the halls and peering into surgical suites. Walked right by Derek who was busy staring out the window, gazing lost into the pitch black night. By the time Derek looked his direction, eyes moving right over him without stopping, he was already breezing through the ICU. Briefly he stopped to hazard a glance into Aaron's room. He looked awake, and the minute their eyes locked, his alert and Aaron's foggy and disbelieving, he watched the numbers on the heart monitor skip and jump.

“Miss me?” he asked, pushing far enough into the room that he could watch Aaron tense up. There was one nurse on the floor and she was attending to another patient, looked like it would be a while. They worked behind closed doors, and Foyet had all the time he could want. “I missed you.” He pulled his mask down, just briefly, and grinned wicked at the man in the bed, licking his teeth. Aaron was suspended somewhere between agony and disbelief, there was a mask over his face and he looked too weak to move but his vitals were starting to jump like fleas and Foyet knew soon he'd alarm. The nurse wouldn't ignore that. “We'll meet up again soon, Aaron.” He snapped a few pictures on his little flip phone and then he disappeared the same way he'd come in, expecting once more to slide right under Derek's nose except there was no one in the small lobby. Derek was in the bathroom...with this golden luck, he thought he might be able to get away with just about anything.

The further he got, the more he knew that Hotch was his fate. It was clear. There was no way he should be able to just walk through that hospital the way he did, but it had been almost too easy. And if Aaron spoke? If he mentioned it? Well, he was in the ICU on heavy drugs...who would believe him? No one would be so bold, so stupid as to enter the hospital when there was a man hunt for them right?

He would have to leave town for a while, though. The searching had likely already begun, but only locally. They wouldn't spread the APB until much later. As long as he alternated his license plates and ID cards, paid with cash and kept an eye on searches for his alias he'd be fine. It would mostly be those self-absorbed bloodhounds Hotch worked with for a while, their selfish need to keep things to themselves would provide him a perfect getaway.

The first drive was up to New York. He stuck to the speed limit, no need to draw attention to himself. Driving a forest green Ford Taurus, the most generic hunk of metal on the road was the smartest thing for him, no one even gave him a second glance. There were at least two more identical cars at every stop light. With a backseat full of pill bottles and cans of Mountain Dew, he set out. He wouldn't stop, had plenty of gas to get where he was going. He smacked his way through an entire bag of beef jerky listening to the recording he made of his night with Hotch. He couldn't tell if the whimpers or the gurgling noises were his favorite, but then oh...oh there was Derek in the background breathing heavily through his nostrils like a dragon puffing over its hoard being looted. Where was all the fire? That came later...he waited on pins and needles. Having an audience had never been at the top of his list but boy had this been fun. The way Derek's eyes went wide when he grabbed Aaron by the hips and flipped him over, twisted his middle until it wouldn't give any further (the blood...like wringing out a wet towel, he'd thought, that was surprising) and then tipped his shoulder to follow, he'd never forget that moment. He'd flashed out, blinked away from Aaron and saw himself wrestling the big kids on the playground, kids who wanted to give him a wealth of shit and weighed twice what he did...but he understood gravity and leverage better than those morons, didn't he? He did, and he would prove it now. It wasn't hard to flip Aaron over if he just focused on the right places. And if he left a few bruises? With Aaron on his belly, fresh wounds grinding into the carpet, Derek groaned and struggled against his ties. The realization had come so slowly into his dazed mind, but as soon as he knew what Foyet was thinking he began thrashing against his ties and for a moment Foyet froze in his own icy fear...Derek could break those ties, no doubt. With enough anger he could snap them. That sudden fear of his own might have been his favorite part, the adrenaline that coursed through him and he smiled at Derek mockingly. Big strong Derek Morgan blubbering like a baby while Foyet worked at Aaron's belt, pinched soft skin in bits of metal. It was harder than he'd anticipated, trying to wrestle dead weight out of pants and halfway there he realized it wasn't going to happen, not tonight. Aaron didn't move, didn't make a sound, and that really sucked all the fun out of it. Maybe if he thought he could get the jump on Derek he'd shift his focus, but the other man was so wild and enraged that he felt his own mortality storm through his nerves. He was like a kid in a candy store...his plan had worked, he'd gotten in and gained control, even when he should have been alone he'd easily had the upper hand and now he just wanted it all, but he had to pace himself. Aaron was barely conscious, and the pool of blood seeping into the fibers of the carpet told him he was pushing his luck...he had to get him help soon if he was going to at all and that was the plan, wasn't it? Cat and mouse, play with your food...let it go, lick its wounds, drag it back. If Aaron survived, he could get to him again, he was certain of that now. He played the recording back again and again on a loop as he crossed the bridge into Manhattan. A quick stop at a park and ride and he was on a loud train, heading like a bullet right down to the bar Sean worked in.

It was almost too easy.

The bar was musty, even in the middle of the day. Foyet checked his watch and frowned, he should have been arriving just as Sean was but he didn't see anyone that looked like Aaron and that was a little disappointing. He'd so hoped it would be a golden moment, another dark stormy Hotchner staring him down. He shoved his hair back under his baseball cap and adjusted the glasses on his nose before approaching the bar and asking for a beer. A few minutes of small talk with the blonde man behind the counter tickled him with hope. The man's voice was deep, his hair was greasy like he'd worked all morning in a diner frying food (the heady odor of bacon grease and coffee emanated from him), and he didn't smile. This golden man didn't look like Aaron but he could easily be a Hotchner with that sunny disposition. Watching him turn toward the kitchen at a growl that sounded an awful lot like “HOTCH!” confirmed his suspicion. Such simple joy he'd never known.

Accepting his early afternoon beer, Foyet sucked in a deep breath and forced his eyes wide with fear. “Did you hear about that serial killer they have down in Virginia?” Not subtle, but Sean didn't strike him as the subtle type. He would have to be bold to keep that man's attention, it was all over the place. The way he seemed lost, sluggish, too tired to be a very attentive bar tender...probably why he was on the afternoon shift. Getting by on his looks, Foyet figured. Sean shrugged at the questions and wiped down the counter where beer rings caught the light. “I heard he attacked an FBI Agent in his own home. You don't...” Foyet paused, watching the marvelous way he willed his hand to tremble against his glass. “That doesn't worry you?”

“I don't pay much attention.” His voice gave no hint of his fear and Foyet was intrigued. Was he really that aloof, that selfish that it never crossed his mind that it could be his brother? He'd assumed Sean would already know, but then family dynamics had always been something of a mystery to him. “You know the guy or somethin'?”

There it was...the opening he'd been looking for. A little glimmer of interest in an otherwise dull conversation.

“Read about it in the news,” Foyet replied, tapping on his glass. “I guess I just like to know what's going on, but it's giving me ulcers huh?” He hadn't taken a drink yet. Sean frowned and tasted the sour words on the tip of his tongue, searched the easiest way to prod for more information. He gulped at his ice water, felt it burn through his parched throat. The water tasted like ash, the pack of cigarettes he'd killed that morning trying to quell the nausea from a raging hangover still tarry and thick on his tongue. All night drinking at his band's show and a morning shift at the diner had done him no favors.

“They give the Agent's name?”

There it was. Foyet shuddered visibly and shook his head. “No, only that he was in his apartment in Alexandria...he's some big wig fella working with that pseudoscience unit they have. The one from Silence of the Lambs, you know?”

Sean hummed and stared out into the empty bar, uneasy contemplation flickering in his eyes. Foyet watched as they went from tranquil blue to stormy gray and had to stifle a smile. “They catch the guy?” he asked and Foyet gulped his beer.

“Nope.”

“But the Agent lived right?”

“Critical condition, I guess. They didn't say much, just that he'd been stabbed.” He paused for effect and downed another gulp of beer. “I guess I'd rather die, from the sound of it.”

Sean looked sick, all color drained from his face. He'd aged at least a decade since he realized, with some certainty now, that it was his brother they were discussing. Now he looked like Aaron, his features drawn, his mouth pulled tight in a thin line. Beneath the golden beard and curtain of hair, he saw a real Hotchner. He wondered which one looked like the mother and which like the father. He'd find out soon.

Foyet knew it was now that he had to leave. The moment Sean was too distracted to question Foyet about his motives, why he'd mentioned it, where he was from. Too distracted to play detective bar tender. He'd planted the seed, Sean had gotten a good look at him, he'd put it together just fine. Pulling out his phone, Foyet made like he was taking a photo of his nearly empty glass, making sure to frame Sean neatly in the background. So lost in the sudden fear over his brother dying in an ICU, he looked sullen and sad in the photo. Aaron would feel so guilty when he saw it. Collecting family photos, he thought with a smile as he drained the last of his beer and slapped a bill onto the counter. “Take care,” he muttered, making his way out of the bar with an almost giddy trot. With any luck, Sean would call their mother and get her all worked up into a tizzy...if she was any kind of a mother, that is. And if she wasn't? Well, he'd find out soon enough.

He stepped out onto the sidewalk and squinted into the afternoon sunlight slicing in sharp rays off of the skyscrapers on the horizon. At his feet a group of pigeons pecked at discarded popcorn and he felt his own stomach rumble. It was dinner time, but he really didn't have time to enjoy a full meal. Only a snack, maybe a pretzel from the vendor on the corner. He had places to be.

Next stop: Chicago.

<- Previous Chapter | Next Chapter ->

#aaron hotchner #george foyet #derek morgan #sean hotchner #hotchgan #criminal minds #fanfiction

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 3 years

Text

Faded

Averykedavra prompt: okay, first of all, can I be added to your taglist? I love your fics! secondly, if you're open to prompts (apologies if you're not) could you write some logan-centric hurt/comfort? with roman and maybe Virgil comforting him? no pressure, but thanks!! and again your fics are absolutely incredible

Thanks for the prompt babe you’re an icon ^_^

Read on Ao3

Warnings: Logan’s not feeling so great, so self-doubt, self-esteem issues, all that jazz

Pairings: depending on how you want to read it, logince, analogical, possible prinxiety, analogince, or just hella platonic. My aro ass doesn’t know anymore you choose

Word Count: 4237

When a Side's role is disregarded, their door fades from the hallway.

Logan...do the others really need Logan?

Or just Logic?

“Neato! So you're making your little factoids optional this time around.”

Thank Archimedes the little pixelated boxes didn’t allow for much dynamic character interaction.

Logan swallows and tries to keep going, growing more concerned that the lump in his throat would make it impossible to speak. But he can do this. For Thomas, he can do this. He has to.

“Oh, I’ve got this one, guys!”

‘IGNORANT’ flashes up in front of him in big, red letters. Almost immediately he can hear the scoldings of Thomas and Patton followed by Roman’s mumbled apology but it’s too late. The word sears itself into his brain and he can’t see anything other than the choice that they’ve made.

He swallows again. Alright. He’ll speak directly to the audience. Thomas has to listen to them eventually, doesn’t he?

…well, maybe, but that doesn’t stop it from hurting every time he pops up with something and it’s completely ignored. He tries to appeal to Patton’s sense of humor. He tries to give Roman something when he can’t find the right words. He tries to give Thomas something, anything.

Then he gets overexcited and pushes Patton into the blinds.

The second Roman’s sword flashes out and slices him neatly in two a searing bolt of pain spreads to his arms, to his chest, to his throat. He knows logically—he knows everything logically—he can’t be hurt by that. It isn’t him. He is not connected in any way physically to these lowdowns.

So why are his hands shaking?

This is so ridiculous. He is Logic. He should not be working like this, he should not be reacting like this. This is logically the next step, he must simply not be out of the adjustment process yet. Which is ridiculous in and of itself, has he not mentioned several times over that the presence of the others imbeds Thomas’s ability to think rationally and calmly about the issues they have to face? Has he not himself wondered that if he were not so…undone by being in the same room that he finds it difficult to keep going when he needs to? Shouldn’t this be better?

“You know I'm- I'm not doing a really great job explaining this philosophy. Um, Logan?”

Patton? Logan pops up.

Patton smiles—smiles?—at him as the box appears at the bottom of the screen. From this angle, he can’t see Roman or Thomas. What’s happening? Why hasn’t he been paying better attention?

Why can’t he focus?

“What would a real philosopher think about what I'm saying here?”

Oh. Oh, no. This isn’t going to be good, is it?

“Well, Frederich Nietzsche really wouldn't have been thrilled with anything you've had to say, primarily because pity seems to be at the center of your idea of ‘putting good into the world.’”

“Th-that's not what—“

“Nietzsche famously rejected the notion that pity was a virtue.”

“Okay,” comes the quiet mumble that, really, should’ve told him to stop talking now, he wasn’t being useful anymore.

But no. Logan was never very good at being quiet, now was he?

“He once claimed that pity ‘runs counter to the instincts that preserve and enhance the value of life…’”

Last chance, Logan, something in his head whispers as something else flashes in the corner of his vision.

‘Skip all.’

But they would never do that, right? They knew, somewhere, because Thomas knew, that you had to listen to Logic. You had to listen, at some point, because if you didn’t, what did you have? They would shake their heads or grumble in annoyance, or cut him off when he’d been talking for too long or ask him to be quiet, but they’d never skip him entirely, cut him out of the conversation, would they?

Patton’s finger presses the button and something of unyielding cold wraps around Logan’s neck.

He flails as it yanks, jerking back awake with his eyes open, out of the boxes, out of the video, at his desk, staring at the screen as his lowdown program blocks him out.

No.

No!

What happened? Why did they—is he—can he—

Why didn’t they want to listen?

Logan’s fingers fly over the keyboard in front of him, searching desperately for an answer. Maybe he programmed this wrong. Admittedly he’s a little new at programming so he could’ve messed something up that disconnected him. Maybe Patton clicked it by mistake. Why was there even a ‘skip all’ button to begin with? He doesn’t remember programming that. And what was it that wrapped around his throat?

His hand goes to his neck at the mere memory of the horrible thing that yanked him out. He winces when his fingers slide of patches of warm, inflamed skin. It…it actually hurt. It left a mark.

What—

The instant his lowdown pops up with his face, he knows.

It shouldn’t hurt. Really. This shouldn’t hurt.

Now perhaps Deceit could see what it was like to be Logic. Or at least to try and be Logic.

Now perhaps…perhaps he may have someone to talk to.

No.

Deceit was, in fact, far better at being Logic. Within an instant, he’d gotten the conversation to his side, gotten the others to listen, to think about what they were saying instead of just following on blind faith.

Of course.

Because it wasn’t Logic they didn’t want to listen to, was it?

It was Logan.

Logan closes his eyes. Alright. He can adapt to this. He can…he can work with this. He just has to figure out how.

He turns away from the computer, stands, and carefully makes his way across his room to the nightstand, where the emergency first-aid kit sits tucked in the drawer. He will patch himself up, best he can, and then figure out what to do.

He’s too distracted to hear Roman’s terrified shout.

“What have you done with Logan?”

———————————————————

A few hours after filming stops, there’s a very soft knock on Logan’s door. He doesn’t move from his desk, nor does he pause in his typing. False sympathies and empty comforts have never been very appealing.

…and he is just the slightest bit worried that he won’t be able to resist the urge to slam the door in Patton’s face.

Footsteps moving away sound from outside. Good. It’s better this way, isn’t it?

The lowdowns didn’t work. Well, they did…but they worked a little too well, didn’t they? Instead of being less invasive, they just…cut Logan’s contributions out entirely. They let Logan be taken. They were good for Logic, not Logan.

Logan’s head turns to the wall where he has two lists tacked up. Standing, the desk chair scraping behind him, he picks up the marker.

His job is to be Logic. Therefore, if he is failing at that job, he must find a way to be better.

The list on the left has ‘LOGIC’ written in large, block letters. On the right, ‘LOGAN.’ Isolating the key characteristics of each concept will help to shift himself properly into the role he must play. Logan’s eyes scan down the ‘LOGIC’ list.

LOGIC:

Emotionless

Useful

Rational

Necessary

Welcome

The end of the word ‘welcome’ is smeared. Logan looks down at the marker. His hands had shaken so much as he added that last word…why? It was true; logic should be welcome in any conversation, that’s why is it so useful, that’s why it has so many of the other characteristics that it has. Logic should be wanted, regardless of the subject matter, because of what it could do. It had felt so small of Logan to add the word, even when it was the correct course of action. Was it not implied by the others that it should be wanted?

That…that he should be wanted?

Unconsciously, Logan twists the cap of the marker back and forth as his eyes dart over to the ‘LOGAN’ list.

LOGAN:

Irritating

Invasive

Emotional

Easily dismissed

Unwanted

If he had any doubts about whether or not these qualifications were inaccurate, each had cemented their place on this list after today.

Logan’s hand flies to his neck again, grazing over the bandages he’d wrapped around himself, only to stutter to a halt when his fingers met the fabric of his tie.

His tie.

Hadn’t—he’d—he’d been so sure he’d been doing this right. He dressed well, he spoke carefully, he did his research, why—why was it so easy for them to say he was—to think of him as—

…why didn’t they want to listen to him?

He tried. He tried so hard to be what they wanted, what they would listen to, to appeal to each and every one of them to make sure he was still fitting in enough to be heard. Logic had to be heard, that’s one of its most important qualifications.

As his fingers fumble and catch around the knot, it pulls taut and for a moment he’s thrown back into the feeling of Deceit’s crook around his neck.

Oh.

Oh, that’s right…he…Deceit—or, well, Janus, now—didn’t he...he was…Logic isn’t the problem.

Janus’s Logic made them listen. Janus’s logic made them pay attention. Janus’s Logic was wanted.

Logan’s fingers slide off his tie in a numb haze.

His hand falls limply to his side.

He stares at the lists.

Irritating.

Invasive.

Emotional.

Easily dismissed.

There is a reason none of these qualifications have come up when he considers pure Logic.

A wave of cold rushes over Logan. His knees wobble. His hand staggers out for something, anything to grab onto, to hold, to stop himself from collapsing under the weight of what he just realized, to stop it, to stop it, to stop—

He hits the ground with a thud.

The words beat into his head over and over as he lies there, frozen, cold, so cold, curled up by his bed with something wrapped tightly around his throat and his glasses staying stubbornly on his face so the words remain in perfect focus.

It is not Logic that is the problem.

The others can use Logic.

The others can listen to Logic.

The others can want Logic.

They just don’t want Logan.

Logan curls closer around himself as it starts to become very, very cold. That…this can’t be right, he must be missing something. He’s emotionally compromised right now, he’s not any good at being Logic, maybe—maybe that means he’s doing it wrong, he has to be doing this wrong, there’s no way they could—they need him, don’t they? They need Logan, they have to listen to him, they—they—

Unbidden, a whine escapes Logan’s throat. It burns as it rings around his empty, cold room. He covers his face with his hands.

Even his cheeks feel icy cold.

Someone will notice, he tries frantically, someone will notice if I never show up again, someone will notice if I—if—if—

But they didn’t notice. Not today.

Not until it was too late.

Outside, in the corridor, a dark blue door begins to fade into the wall.

———————————————————

“Logan? Logan!”

Bam, bam, bam.

“Logan!”

Frantic hammering against the door jolts him awake. Immediately he winces as something in his neck catches. How—how long has he been like this?

“Logan, please, open the door, we—we can’t open it!”

Oh…the others have noticed…should go open the door.

Wincing again, Logan rights himself, sitting up with his back leaning against the bed, blinking through his fuzzy glasses. Why are they so filthy?

…oh, he must’ve been crying.

How emotional.

“Logan? Logan can you at least say something?”

“I’m gonna break this door down.”

“No!”

Well, yes, Logan does not want his door broken down. Groaning, he stands, making his way over to the door that—wait.

Why…why is his door so…pale?

The knob looks almost translucent as he reaches for it, his pulse hammering as his fingers close gently around where it should be. He takes a deep breath and carefully, carefully, turns it.

“Logan, thank god, I—“ Virgil cuts himself off with a choked gasp as he stares at Logan. “…L? What…what happened to you?”

“What do you mean?” The instant it comes out of his mouth he knows what Virgil means. He sounds like his throat is actively attempting to cut itself off with every breath.

A choked whine comes from behind Virgil. Logan’s eyes dart over to see Roman a sickly pale, staring at Logan, horrified.

“…S-specs? Specs, I—Logan, oh, no, can I—can we—“ Roman reaches for him, only to freeze and quickly pull back his hand.

Another wave of cold settles over Logan and his hand falls through the doorknob.

“Logan,” Virgil murmurs, “can we come in, please? I, uh, we wanna talk to you for a moment.”

Why would you want to talk to me?

“…of course.” Logan steps aside and lets them pass, looking down at his hand.

It’s still a hand, but it looks…thinner. He can tell where it isn’t, if that makes sense.

When has Logan ever made sense?

Virgil sits down on the floor, next to his bed. Roman hovers near the door, wringing his hands together as Logan carefully pushes the door closed.

“I’m sorry, Logan.”

Logan’s eyes widen as his head jerks around to face Roman. Roman gives him what may be the smallest smile he’s ever seen before taking a deep breath.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, the sincerity making the cold burn in Logan’s chest, “I didn’t mean to hurt you. It—it was stupid of me to press the ‘ignorant’ button and it was not my intention to hurt you. And I...slashing your box was wrong too. I just saw Patton get hurt and I—”

He cuts himself off and takes a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, Logan," he repeats, softer this time, "for all that I have done to hurt you. I want to be better about it."

Oh. “…thank you, Roman,” Logan says carefully, “I appreciate your apology.”

Roman gives him a nod. Logan looks at Virgil, whose head still rests against the bed, staring at the two of them.

“Is this what you wanted to discuss?”

“Sort of, but…uh, Logan, you…you’re not looking so great, bud.” Virgil shifts, looking to Roman, who nods and takes a seat on the floor too, leaving a space between them. “Will you come sit with us?”

“…of course.”

Logan sits gingerly between the two of them, his gaze fixed on the outlet in the wall opposite them. He hears the rustling of fabric as Virgil shifts, and sees a little white in the corner of his eye as Roman scoots a tad closer.

“So,” Virgil murmurs after a second, “I guess this video was…hard.”

Roman huffs quietly. Logan nods. “Yes.”

“Can you tell me what happened?”

“Have the others not already told you?”

“I’d like to hear it from you too.”

Logan takes a deep breath, ignoring the way the cold burns the inside of his lungs. “I attempted to implement a new strategy for how I interact with you and the viewers. Instead of appearing in person, I chose to use a series of lowdowns so the information would appear in a non-invasive way.”

There’s a moment of silence.

“…keep going, L.”

“They were…not as well-received as I had anticipated.”

A flash of movement and a stifled noise make him look over. Roman fiddles with the hem of his sleeve right in front of his mouth, obviously having cut himself off. He glances over.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly, “I didn’t want to interrupt. Please, continue.”

“I, er…” Logan swallows, something about the movement of Roman’s fingers holding his focus captive. “I hurt Patton.”

From his other side comes a sharp intake of breath. Logan looks away.

“I hurt Patton. I could not do my job properly. I had compromised the conversation. A ‘skip all’ button appeared and…”

“Patton pressed it,” Virgil finishes when Logan doesn’t speak, “he told me.”

Logan doesn’t say anything. The crook manifests around his throat again and he shudders.

“…Logan,” Roman’s worried voice says, even as it sounds like it’s coming from underwater, “Logan, did…what did that do to you?”

“Janus,” Logan croaks, “he—his staff, it—I—“

“Hey, hey,” Virgil croons, reaching for the hands that tug persistently at his collar, at his bandages, when did they get there?— “don’t do that, L, you’re gonna hurt yourself, stop that…”

“Logan, can I hold your hand, please?”

Logan lets Virgil tug his hands away from his neck. It—why—what’s happening?

Why are Virgil’s hands so warm?

Judging by Virgil’s expression, he’s as concerned about the stark difference in temperature as Logan is. Several emotions flit across his face before Logan can name them until they both register Roman’s question. Roman holds his hand out, all but pleading for Logan to let him.

“Please,” he whispers, his hand starting to tremble, “please, Logan, may I…can I just hold your hand?”

“Why are you so worried,” Logan wants to ask, “what is it that makes you so insistent about holding my hand?”

Instead, when his voice is barely about a strangled whisper and his first attempt makes his hand phase completely through Roman’s, the question emerges as a stifled scream.

“Shh, shh,” Roman whispers, moving in as close as he can, trying to curl his hands around where Logan’s should be, “it’s okay, it’s okay, we’ll—we’ll figure it out, Logan, we’ve got you, it’s okay—“

Roman burns.

“R-ro—“

“Easy, Roman,” Virgil mutters from behind him, “take it easy, you’re gonna freak us all out.”

“I know, I know.” Roman clutches the air of Logan’s hand tightly. “Okay…okay, Specs, we gotta…we’re gonna take some deep breaths, okay?”

No, no, it hurts when Logan does that, what’s…

He does as bid. The air whines in protest as he slowly breathes in and out, in and out, focusing on Roman’s thumb rubbing small circles into his hand. Roman seems to calm a little as he watches, bringing Logan’s hand close enough to cradle it in his lap as they breathe.

“Good,” Virgil manages, still clutching Logan’s other hand tightly, his own voice shaking slightly, “okay, now we’re all just gonna calm down, yeah? Just…nice and calm…”

Logan has no idea how long they sit there, on the floor, only that after a few more deep breaths, it no longer hurts. Roman’s hand no longer burns, it’s just warm. Virgil no longer trembles, he’s just there.

“My apologies,” he manages, “I did not mean to be so…inconvenient.”

Roman’s cry of protest is quickly accompanied by: “hey, no, none of that, Logan, you’re not being inconvenient. It’s been a hard day for all of us.”

“But was I not—“

“No,” Roman interrupts gently, “I’m sorry for interrupting, but…no, Logan. Nothing that happened today was your fault. Absolutely nothing.”

“…I’m the one who hurt Patton.”

“That was an accident and you didn’t know it was going to do that,” Roman says firmly, “and it was our fault we didn’t listen to you. So much that you felt that was your only option.”

Logan swallows. “…what about Janus?”

“What about him,” Virgil prompts, “the fact that he…came into the video?”

“It was my lowdowns that enabled him to do so.”

“And we pressed the ‘skip all’ button,” Roman says. “And I’m the one who gave him tips on how to impersonate the rest of us better.”

Roman is right, even as Logan begins to feel cold again. Still, he opens his mouth.

“I…I’m not…I can’t…it…”

“Logan,” Roman says quietly when Logan can’t seem to find the words, “none of us are angry with you. I’m certainly not angry with you, and I’m…I’m sorry about everything that I may have done and have done to give you the impression that I do not hold you in the highest esteem possible.”

Logan’s mouth drops open in shock.

“I think you overdid it a little there, Princey,” Virgil chuckles.

“But it’s true,” Roman insists, still cradling Logan’s hand in his lap, “Logan, you’re…you’re so important. And if I have done anything that makes you think I don’t care so much about you, then I…I will do everything I can to fix this.”

What?

“You…but we..we fight,” Logan manages weakly, “all the time, you…you disagree with me every chance you get, how—“

“I told you on movie night,” Roman says, the corner of his mouth tugging up, “I poke fun at the things I love.”

Love.

Logan’s brain stutters to a pause.

“You’re my family, Logan,” Roman continues, oblivious to the fact that Logan.exe has stopped functioning, please try again later, “and I…you are so clever, so sharp, so good that of course I want to talk to you about things. I respect your opinion so much and I want to hear everything.”

“Yeah, if you ever stop teaching us stuff I might actually start crying and never stop.”

“Virgil!”

“What, like you’re any better?”

“Of course not! I would be devastated!”

“Wait, wait,” Logan mumbles, “you—you what?”

“L,” Virgil calls softly, still chuckling a little as Logan turns to look at him, “L, we care about you so much. We wanted to give you space, especially after today, but…dude, you know we need you, don’t you?”

“You need Logic,” Logan mumbles, “you…of course you need Logic.”

“We do,” Roman confirms as the cold threatens to open up in Logan’s chest again, “but we also love Logan.”

“You have got to stop throwing that word around,” Virgil murmurs, “you’re gonna send him into a full-blown freak-out.”

“But we do, Virgil. We do love him, so much, and if he doesn’t know that…”

Roman squeezes a surprisingly solid hand in his lap.

“…then we have to remind him.”

Virgil huffs, scooting closer. “Yeah, well, that’s easy enough.”

No, no, it very much is not.

Logan’s brain is still struggling to come to grips with the first thing Roman said, about poking fun at the things he loves. He hasn’t come close to tackling the fact that Roman just said they loved him.

And Virgil agreed.

“This…this doesn’t make sense,” Logan says weakly, “this doesn’t make sense.”

“What doesn’t make sense?” Virgil’s hand is a warm weight against his side. “That we love you?”

“…y-yes?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Virgil murmurs, “what makes you so convinced that you’re unlovable?”

“I…I can’t…I am emotionally compromised. I cannot do my job properly. I will not be as useful as you—“

“Do you need to be useful to be lovable?”

“Don’t you?”

“No,” he says firmly, pressing Logan between the two of them, “no, you don’t, Logan. We love you for you, not for what you can do.”

“Don’t leave us, Logan.” The sheer amount of pain in Roman’s voice aches. “Not because you think we won’t want you.”

A horrible laugh bubbles up in his throat. “And here I thought you were going to leave me.”

“Never,” Roman promises, “never.”

“We did threaten to break down your door because it was starting to fade from the hallway.”

“…I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

“You don’t need to know right now, we’ll help you.”

“I don’t know how good I’m going to be at this.”

“We’re all working on things, it’s okay.”

“But I—“ Logan swallows heavily— “I don’t know if I can stop believing that I…that it is just Logic you want and not Logan.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” Roman calls, squeezing his hand, “I still struggle with that too.”

Logan’s eyes widen. “You what?”

“Believe that you only keep me around as long as I make things that you think are useful?” Roman smiles sadly. “Yeah.”

“But you’re—you—Thomas would not be able to exist without you!”

“Wouldn’t he?”

“No! It’s not just—Roman, you’re so much more than Creativity, if you weren’t here, we…” Logan takes a deep breath and swallows. “Something would truly be lost if you weren’t here.”

He stops.

“…oh.”

“Yeah, Specs,” Roman whispers, “‘oh.’”

“…oh.”

“Come here, sweetheart,” he murmurs, opening his arms and letting Logan fall into his embrace, “don’t you leave us, okay?”

Virgil drapes himself over them, wrapping his arms tightly around Logan’s waist. “We’ll figure it out, L, but you gotta stick around, okay? Don’t—well, try not to worry about whether or not you’re being the perfect Logic. We want you.”

“…promise?”

“I promise.”

“I promise too,” Roman murmurs, letting Logan rest against his chest, “now why don’t we all get into something more comfortable and we can have another look at your neck?”

“Yes. That sounds…good.”

“And Logan?” Logan cranes his head up to look. “If you ever stop teaching us things and telling me about stuff I will start crying.”

Despite everything, Logan smiles.

“Don’t worry,” he says quietly, the chill finally beginning to thaw, “I’m not going anywhere.”

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