#wren; head canons

[musemuseum]

Wren Young

He paints his nails; often changing the color to suit his mood

He genuinely loves his job; even with the insane amount of entitled karens

Ironically, he doesn't drink coffee, but he does like a good tea

He likes to experiment with drinks when there aren’t any customers - and since he doesn’t drink coffee, he employs the help of his coworkers to test out the drinks

His favourite season is winter - because he can stay warm with a cup of tea and the winter flavours are amazing

He enjoys having conversations with customers that come in with their laptops; meeting authors (both new and established), and learning new things from college students

[inquisitor-apologist]

The only reason Zare Leonis and Ketsu Onyo weren’t recurring characters was because their dynamic with Ezra and Sabine was SO gay they couldn’t have hidden it.

[rebouks]

Previous // Next

They're here! Wren was born a whole minute before Byrd, and she will forever hold that over his head 😌

[lokisarmyjustinvadedmidgard]

Rebels fans have been consuming anything and everything in relation to our Ghost Fam for years, yearning for more, grasping at strings, tearing through fan fics

It's like oxygen to us, it all we think and breathe

And now, now we get more!

[jessicas-pi]

New cracky headcanon: at some point between S2 and S3 of Rebels, when Ezra is deep in his angsty darkside phase, Sabine (who is Just So Done With This) gets in the habit of standing outside his door and singing Do You Wanna Build A Snowman in Shyriiwook until he comes out of his room and actually has human interaction

[wayward-wren]

Every single character I have ever obsessed over falls into one of four categories:

Kid with no one in his corner who's used to looking after himself realises that (often despite his best efforts) people actually care about him and he has a support system.

Older brother type vibes who is the comic relief and painted as dumb or clueless but actually has deep insecurities and is so so smart in other ways and has a fiercely protective streak.

Young (though not always) woman who has been through a rough time and has Trauma but is still strong and refuses to let her past define her and makes an effort to be kind. (this character tends to become part of my soul)

Loser man become dad.

Also bonus points to trope voted Most Relatable but is never my favourite character:

5. Kid who has had a reasonably trauma-less life compared to friends and feels a bit like a sidekick and maybe doesn't consider their problems worthy when their friends have been through so much more

[skiitter]

Kes pre and post illithid tadpole as the former Chosen of Bhaal. Doesn't get her cool tiefling eyes until the tadpole shoved into her brain sort of resets it. She was far more understated back then, especially to stand in contrast to Orin's chaos.

Her name was Bitter, in keeping with tiefling naming conventions, though Orin obnoxiously called her Blank, since she her expression would go unnervingly empty whenever the Urge was upon her.

[violetren]

It's been 200 years since I watched Merlin and it's taken until I saw a post talking about some raw like the dragon gives for me to go huh. That bitch really was the true antagonist of the series.

Might be considered late to the club by some but here I am anyways, hear me out.

Big magical creature with a fuck off long life span trapped under the castle of a dude who tried to systematically wipe out all magic. Said castle owner killed friends and family and turned the world into something unrecognisable and hostile that may never be recovered from. Well time to destroy this fuckers entire LIFE AND LEGACY. What humans consider a long game is basically a round of Connect-Four to a dragon.

Merlin rolls in magic up the wazoo able to roam freely around the castle AND getting into chaos trying to figure out his purpose and destiny. The dragon is like "perfect, how best to manipulate this twink? I know I'll say there is a prophecy. Humans eat that shit up when it comes from a fuck off sized magical creature they can barely comprehend existing."

He puts himself squarely in the position of wizened mentor who can drip feed merlin important magical info as required. Always careful not to give too much at once so that merlin doesn't know enough to catch onto him. He is someone whose word should be trusted. He helps merlin find fixes to shenanigans and strange magical visitors looking for their own revenge, sometimes because he doesn't want to work around their plan, sometimes because of his own prideful desire to be the one to get his ultimate revenge and doesn't want anyone getting in the way of that. But all Merlin knows is that he has helped and so that lends credibility when he's sowing the seeds of discord and future destruction by saying shit like "Morgana is destined for darkness."

Even by the time Merlin starts questioning and bucking against the dragons rules and opinions he has already internalised so much of what was said, and made so many mistakes based on the dragons advice that he doesn't know how to walk back on. Some lingering ignorance in combination with the sunk cost fallacy and a desire to be The Good Guy turns a bogus prophecy into a self fulfilling one.

Once he's laid the pieces he just has to wait and watch. Eventually Merlin realises his whole dragon lord thing and it's an annoyance but by then he's in too deep to actually comprehend how far along he is in the dragons plans and wouldn't be able to unravel the dragons plans to first destroy everything anyways.

It doesn't matter that Uther isn't there to watch his kingdom change into something kinder than he would ever have wanted or that he isn't there when it eventually crumbles because it was never about Uther's pain and always about the dragons pride.

[sebring5]

IMG_3320 by Henry Via Flickr: Gimbel’s quail

[percentstardust]

wren’s pack be threatening the aliens and she’s trying to befriend them like addy.

[shuuen-no-cimory]

Also of course, it ain't me if I don't crossover my current hyperfixation with my ultimate current hyperfixation. So... Degrees of Lewdity x ProjectMoon! (This post is full of me yapping as I explain each drawing, so I guess, be ready?)

First, I'll go hard with Whitney as R Corp. 4th Rabbit Team. The initial idea was that he reminds me so much of RHeath LMAO But eventually I love the idea because I think he'd go along with Myo well. Plus... Somehow imagining Whitney in Rabbit Team Hatchery shenanigans seems... Interesting.

Next is Eden. If anyone notice, I originally designed him based of 2 Abnos: Der Freischutz and Big Bird. Der Frei was, of course, a nod to his title as a Hunter, and a marksman as well. For Big Bird... Yeah definitely there's the Big Bird in DoL, yet I think temperance-wise, Eden does felt similar to Big Bird. A creature living in a forest, thinking they protect others by doing the action that definitely doesn't seems to be out of protection. As for RRH, oh think about this: Being hunted down while getting marked. One by a hunter, and another by a wolf. Oh isn't it just reminds me of something...? Right

Funny enough, before I designed the school LIs properly, I reimagined them as The City's feathers. "If they're living in the City and has to work with one Wing, which one they'll work on?" I've talked about R. Corp Whitney earlier so I'll talk about the others! Robin, L Corp. - I can imagine him with the pressing needs to survive under the weight of Bailey's rent ends up either being sent or signed himself up as an agent for L Corp. The Wing doesn't ask that much requirement as per Hokmah's story while the agent supposed to have a great pay (being a wing and all). Hence, I think he might work for L Corp. Sydney, K Corp. - The idea was that after graduating, Sydney might follow Sirris path in science. Being the obedient child she is (as we sees on the game before they get corrupted), she probably choose to do what Sirris might do hence her as K Corp. researcher. Oh anyway, truly this is just a fyi that doesn't seems to be related to anything, I reimagined Harper as Dongrang in this scenario, with the whole Teary-Thing problem exist. Oh, lucky enough for Sydney to help producing K Ampule that definitely just as seen in the canon Limbus story. Just saying. Kylar, W Corp. - This one actually a rather fun idea. This is set with the idea that Kylar work as the Clean Up Member, with parents that's definitely unaware with how their child work but nevertheless proud with him. They'd even use WARP Train solely to be sent off by Kylar each time, much to Kylar silent dismay. If only they know what Kylar has to clean up among the 6 seconds they went into the train... Read one of the reblog tag and yeah. It has to do with Love Town. And pretty much how Kylar had to regularly assemble his parents again and again each trip they made.

LCB! SYDNEY LET'S GOOOO!!!! This idea came as I made my LCB-esque ID Card for Sydney. The idea of LCB Sydney's background was that it's pretty much what happened in the game, but make it The City-esque and seen from Sydney's eyes. It's fun imagining her as a Dieci Fixer who was caught in a complicated issue which she rather dip out from as she hasn't fully grow the backbone to face it yet. Oh right, in this AU I reimagined Ivory as Abnormality and both Sydney and Kylar got their EGO. Sydney got their Longing Phase EGO (HE, Gloom) while Kylar got the Haunting Phase EGO (WAW, Wrath). I actually had a draft of how the EGO works and its gimmick but let's talk it later on lol

When Yield My Flesh event is up on Limbus, my head doing the funny by thinking, "Damn... Jun Wren sounds cool..." then I remember Tingtang exist like jfgdjfgbjd HE FITS BETTER AS TINGTANG WHY DIDN'T I THINK ABOUT IT ON A SIDE NOTE, I also had the thought on how Bailey MIGHT kills it as either a Kurokumo or a Middle. After all, Middle never forget... Just like how Bailey never forget your rent LOL

And last but not least: Sydney and Robin as L Corp. Agent! Robin will be a high Temperance agent which work for Safety Team, while Sydney is the high Fortitude, high Prudence Disciplinary Team Captain. Oh, if you do notice: I made Sydney's cross looks like Penitence EGO Weapon. It's actually based of this idea of how One Sin and WhiteNight's dynamic thematically fits Sydney the Faithful and Sydney the Fallen. The name of both Abnos' EGO Set-- "Penitence" and "Paradise Lost" respectively, both fits the image of each Sydneys. Hence, I draw them in both EGO Sets!

[illuminatedquill]

Is Revenge of the Fifth a thing?

Well, whatever. Here’s some extra Sabezra memes for the fandom. Enjoy!

Luke: Class, this is Mira. She is the daughter of Master Wren and Master Bridger. Mira, please introduce yourself to everybody.

Mira: (menacingly) Give me your teeth.

Amusing head-canon is that Shin gets the Mike Wazowski treatment in any photos with Sabine and Ezra despite becoming friends with them.

Ezra continues to be his charmingly glib self at enormous risk to his life.

Sabine will fight everybody for Ezra. That’s canon. Argue with the wall.

We love that confidence!

(She didn’t get the job.)

Sabine absolutely gate-keeps Ezra from the thirsty masses and finally has a use for his Jabba alias.

[kalevalakryze]

Yhe'na Det Och'sa

Chapter 1: Viida Ke Aht

Characters: Shin Hati, Ahsoka Tano, Huyang, Background Characters Tags: Alternate Universe: Canon Divergence, Protective Ahsoka Tano, Wet Cat Shin Hati, Professor Huyang, The Force, Lightsabers Notes: Welcome to the beginning! The Shin Tano AU has been rent free in my mind for so long, and we've been putting giant amounts of work into this project. This universe will span about three acts, with act one set for the early years of Shin's training under Ahsoka Tano, all the way to the end of the empire and the first time she meets Sabine Wren. (9BBY-0BBY timelines were changed to get rid of some ick ) Act Two will focus on the relationship between wolfwren and the time before Mandalore's destruction. ( 0BBY-5ABY ) And Act Three will be focused on the Ahsoka series. ( 9-10 ABY ) Other acts will be planned as we see what direction the series will be taking. This AU would be nowhere without Gabi, please make sure you give her all the credit she deserves because without her, we would not have any of the stunning art we have already that's helped inspire this AU! @somewillwin Also big thanks to everyone in the pathfinders discord ( @mandalorianfleshenjoyer , @cmbdragon98 esp for idea bouncing and double checking asdkvn!!!!) Word Count: 4,331 AO3 Link: Here!

Bail had reached out with a request for aid, noting a tentative ally in the inner city of Ibaar. Ahsoka hadn’t known all the allies a senator could make, but if Padmé’s arsenal of folks who owed her was anything to go by, then Bail must have a whole library full of names of people who owed him. 

The streets ran rampant with poverty and starvation, just like any other world the Empire had locked its early talons into.  Vendors of various kinds set up in any available surface, patrolled heavily by Imperial units every thirty minutes with shift rotations every five hours.

It was during this fifth hour that Fulcrum stepped into the streets, hood drawn close over her head, route back to the landing pad memorized, with a dock worker nicely paid off to pass her forged documentation through the Imperial database. ‘Ahsoka Tano’ may have died with her men, but ‘Ashla Tsu’ was just a contract mechanic no one would look twice at. 

As she swept through the stalls lining the streets, hood drawn far over her eyes, allowing the Force to guide her between moving bodies, she felt something. A tingle- small, something barely noticeable, had it come before the Dark Times. Piercing blue eyes raised as her feet slowed; She hadn’t felt a pull so… innocent since The Clone Wars, since she was asked to help guide the children in their créche. 

There was a child, sensitive to the force, and foolishly, with no thought of the dangers, reaching out against her presence. Fulcrum was filled with dread at the thought; of the notion that another child could be taken for its sensitivity, and turned into the boy she had killed on Raada. 

She scanned the surroundings of the street quickly, allowing the force to guide her feet as she moved with a renewed vigor; she would have to be late meeting with the contact, and couldn't take a risk in losing another… 

Clearing her head, Ahsoka caught sight of a lanky figure draped in dirty green fabric, ducking into an alley that backtracked her entire route, too close to the Imperial offices for comfort. “Come on, kid,” The Togruta hissed to herself, turning her head and stepping behind the thick canvases used to block sunlight from the nearest stall. 

Ahsoka wasn’t as small as she used to be, her montrals set her in the taller end, almost reaching the two meter mark. Clearing the tight spaces the child had was difficult, and she found herself having to backtrack more just to keep on course. 

“Stop that kid!” A human vendor shouted, trying to fight his way around the booth as small hands darted from tattered fabric to swipe something from his table. 

Ahsoka pursued quickly, now able to move faster as the streets parted for the ‘hero’ that would help the vendor. It didn’t take long for her to catch up now, as folks ducked out of her way; even the emerging Imperial patrol left her to her devices, not worried about petty theft or some kid getting ‘what was coming to them’. 

“Stop!” Ahsoka poured suggestion into the force from a limitless reserve, brushing out against the panicked presence she felt thrumming all around her. The worn soles of the child's shoes skidded in the dust as she ground to a halt. The panic that met her in silvery blue eyes was enough to make her stop. Clutched in bony, shaking hands, Ahsoka found the crumbling contents, snagged from the vendor's trash pile; food that couldn’t have been safe for even the most resilient species, if the growth on the side was anything to go by, it certainly wasn’t fit for a human.

The child’s chest was heaving, muscles in their arms twitching as they tried to think of a way out. “Here!” Their voice was high and raspy, cracking like the dried skin on their lips as she thrusted her hands out towards Ahsoka, giving her a smell of the unpleasant odor from the mystery meal. “Please let me go,” Their eyes were watering as their weight shifted; Ahsoka did have her cornered, but folks were starting to close in; 

“Don’t eat that, it’s trash,” Ahsoka shook her head with a frown, lekku twitching as she heard feet approaching them. “Let… Let me take you to get something real, alright? Please?” She hadn’t reached out in the force like this since she lost her Master, promising her intentions and holding out the hope that the child would understand, that she wouldn’t hurt her, but they needed to move. 

The kid still didn’t budge, which, as much as she hated the reality, was smart; she was a stranger, after all. “Can I tell you a big secret?” Ahsoka knelt slowly to the ground, to be closer to the lanky child’s height. Uncertain eyes watched her the entire time, dirty fingers  still sinking into the repulsive mystery meat as if Ahsoka was trying to trick them away from what looked to be their first meal in days. 

Ahsoka could feel trepidation as it rolled down pale skin, wiry muscles tensing to run as the stranger reached into her cloak.  The lightsaber was pulled from the hidden pocket of her cloak, still knobby with scrap pieces sticking out, she needed to remember to cut them down… one day, if she had time. “Do you know what this is?” She kept her voice low as she cradled the weapon close between them, squaring her shoulders on the off chance she misjudged the sounds of troopers and citizens behind them.

The child’s head shook quickly, diminishing some of Ahsoka’s hope for making this quick. “You’re like me, and well; people like us; we carry these around to protect people who can’t do it themselves, there aren’t as many of us as there used to be, which is why I want to help you. Search your feelings, you can feel the world around you, right?”

“Mhmm…” Dirty, choppy brown hair fell into an angular face as she peered at the saber in her hands. 

“How many are coming?”

“Four troopers and seven people, they’re mad…” 

Ahsoka smiled as she shifted her weight against the ground. “Very good,” The child’s weight shifted, eyes widening at the minimal praise; The Togruta tried not to think about how much of herself could be reflected in those eyes. “If you put that down, take this, and follow me, I’ll get you a warm meal… I can help you. I want to help you.” 

The child’s eyes jumped distrustfully between the shouldn’t-be-called-food in her hands and the silver metal in Ahsoka’s palm. The food dropped to the ground in a way that made Ahsoka gag, but hey.. At least the kid had the decency to wipe her fingers off on her shirt before snatching the saber from her hand. “Hide it well.” She urged as the child tucked the saber close to her chest. “And don’t touch that button, I’ll show you why, later, I promise,” 

“Follow my lead, alright? Trust in the force,” 

Confusion laced her eyes before Ahsoka’s hand was wrapping around a thin wrist and pulling her close, careful not to move too fast or to jar the child and knock the shoto loose from wherever the child hid it. “What did I tell you about taking things that aren’t yours?” She scolded gently, allowing the girl to tuck into her side.

The young Force Sensitive played along nicely, forcing her features into something akin to shame and embarrassment. “Not to.” They grumbled, barely loud enough for the approaching shopkeepers to hear as they formed a tight semicircle around the two. 

Ahsoka turned towards their audience, facial markings furrowed in mock disappointment as she searched for the shopkeeper. “Now, what do you say?” She guided, gently squeezing her emaciated shoulder until their head rose from staring at a hole in her boots. There was a moment of terse silence as silvery eyes turned to glare at the shopkeeper they’d ‘stolen’ from. “Shin,” She called, words forming on her lips without any thought.

The now-appointed Shin’s eyes jumped up to stare at her with wide eyes and parted lips. Ahsoka cleared her throat and nodded towards the human. “Apologize.”

“I’m sorry,” Their voice was hoarse, raspy and grating now that she was speaking louder than a whisper. The poor thing was definitely going to need water, sooner than later, if the way their skin clung to bone was any indication.

“We’re sorry,” Ahsoka added, allowing Shin to tuck herself into her poncho as shame burned at their cheeks, hands tucking back into their cloak to hold onto the saber they’d been handed. 

“She’s lucky it was just trash, this time.” The vendor growled, sneering at the child and crossing his arms over his chest. “Woulda had you strung up before the sun went down, again.” 

Shin pressed closer into her side, Ahsoka could feel the way they shook against her, fear, and the growing knowledge of Kyber inside the saber no doubt reaching out to her dangerously. “I can promise it won’t happen ever again, sir. Please, if you’ll forgive us this last time?”

Murky green eyes danced between the two women, and the plastoid armored stormtroopers all around them; their fingers hadn’t gone to their blasters yet, but Ahsoka had felt the squad leader unhook a set of binders from his belt. “Hrrng. Fine. But if she comes back and does it again, I’ll make sure whatever the courts decide next sticks.” 

Ahsoka’s montrals twitched with the sharp inhale and the quiet sound that they tried to hide. Wrapping the corner of her poncho around the small child, Ahsoka nodded curtly. “Thank you for your mercy.” She did her best to appeal to whatever sense of masculinity he wanted, just trying to get Shin away from them as fast as possible. The crowd parted for the woman and her embarrassed child, not a soul stepped forward to inquire about her intentions, though several did remark about the odor from the lump of meat that now sat in the dirt. 

Once they were clear of the crowd, Ahsoka allowed her hand to drop from their shoulder; their conflicting feelings were tangible in the force, but there was no time, not when their stomach rumbled, and the chrono on her wrist was ticking dangerously close to ‘too late to reasonably reach out’. 

The Cantina she’d swept Shin into was small, one she’d scoped out the entire morning thus far; one way in, with several ways out through access tunnels running beneath the foundation, butler doors built into walls and floors that made for easy restocking for the staff, and an easy escape into the basement and beyond for a Rebel. Her contact would be inside, no doubt enjoying a meal or a drink of their own. She just needed to order and pay, and get Shin set up somewhere she would be able to keep an eye on them.

“Hey,” She whispered as the child crowded into her again at the intensity of the crowd, leading the girl over to a smaller booth. It certainly was no place for a child, but she was running out of options, and way out of her element here. “Get whatever you want,” The child’s mouth parted; Ahsoka knew what was going to come out of her mouth before her vocal chords even rumbled. “Not alcohol,” She settled into the seat across from Shin, allowing her eyes to sift through the muggy atmosphere around them to find her contact.

There were voices close by, but tuned to the back of her mind as a member of the considerably small waitstaff approached. Shin stumbled over the words as she ordered, but thankfully, they’d found at least one person on this blasted planet with the manners to not be mean to a child. “I’ll take the same,” With no idea of what Shin ordered, but too entrenched in her work to tear away to look over anything.

There, back booth, a too-clean glass held in dainty fingers, golden rings circling each digit, with his sleeves pulled sloppily over his hands to cover the expensive jewelry. A newbie, which in many cases, was dangerous. She’d have to play this one carefully. 

“Who are you?” Shin asked at last, hands wrapped around blue tinted glass of water, sipping slowly at it as she looked at her strange savior, trying to read what they could see, and to decipher whatever the Force was showing them, if the hesitantly probing presence was anything to go by. 

“Right now, my name is Ashla,” Ahsoka leaned back in her seat, finally getting a good look at the child when she wasn’t in fight or flight mode. “I never got your name,” She smiled sheepishly and leaned forward, offering her unwavering attention. 

“I didn’t..” The child shrunk under her gaze, dirty fingertips picking at the lip of her glass as she tried to form words. “I didn’t have one, until…” Her cheeks darkened and Ahsoka understood. 

“Well. D’you like Shin?”

Their head nodded quickly, grateful for the interference, and the name. Ahsoka reached across the table, settling her elbow against the smooth stone as she extended her hand. “Well then,  it’s nice to meet you, Shin,” 

Her hand was small and cold in Ahsoka’s, the Togruta had to resist the urge to wrap her fingers around theirs to warm it up, not wanting to cross any boundaries that had gone unspoken thus far. 

Ahsoka kept her hand still at the prod of fingertips against the hardened skin on her palms, silvery eyes studied the lines in her hand in fascination as they compared their hand to her much larger one. 

Shin’s study was broken moments later with hot plates being set on the table. Blue noodles piled onto both plates with a suspiciously chunky sauce all over. “It’s cu..” Their brows furrowed as they stumbled on the words. “Cru…” Huffing, Shin leaned back in her seat, determined to get the word right before trying again. A jagged fingernail traced the letters into the stone table, mouthing out the syllables as they went. “Crupa,” 

“Very good,” Ahsoka’s lips twitched at the instant relief on Shin’s face, nodding her head once in acknowledgement, before the girl was awkwardly grabbing the fork and digging in. It certainly wasn’t the worst meal Ahsoka’s ever had, GAR ration bars really were not fit for a carnivore’s consumption, and while she’d long gotten used to the discomfort of food not fit for her species, the poultry managed to offer some true nutritional value. 

“Sometimes, they let me come in and clean up after they close, and Drell gives me some leftovers,” The child spoke through a mouthful of noodles, forcing themselves to slow at the rise of Ahsoka’s facial markings. 

Any other conversation faded into silence under the necessity of food. Ahsoka kept her montrals perked and at the ready, listening in to the senator’s quiet grumblings to gauge his annoyance. When he seemed to be getting ready to leave, Ahsoka rose. “Shin,” She called quietly, as the child fought to gather the last noodle onto her utensil. “You know how I told you people like us help people? I have someone I need to step away and talk to for a moment.”

Silver eyes widened in a way that made Ahsoka’s heart hurt, she could feel the way the child prepared to be cast away again. “Can I count on you to make it to my ship yourself?”

Shin nodded their head quickly as they slid from their seat, hands tucking into the worn brown fabric around their shoulders, reaching for the Shoto to offer back to its rightful owner. “You’ll give it back to me at the ship, yeah?” Ahsoka’s lips pulled into a warm smile as a hesitant hand rested on their shoulder once more. “Remember, don’t take anything that isn’t yours, without permission; And if the droid says anything, tell him you’re waiting on me, and show him the thing I gave you,” 

Ahsoka could feel the sense of responsibility as it ebbed into the small child, gently pushing on their shoulder, towards the door; she’d have to hope that her instructions were clear. She watched the bob of choppy brown hair as the child dodged other patrons, heading for the door under Ahsoka’s watchful gaze. 

At last, she turned her attention to the senator in the booth, brushing her fingers down the wrinkles of her cloak with a soft sigh. “This is where the fun begins…”

Small feet padded up the ramp of the shuttle, nervously twisting the fabric of her cloak up in her fingers. Dock workers stared at her in confusion the whole way up, used to seeing kids like her trying to sneak off world in hopeful cargo ships; It had to work for the others she’d grown up with, they never came back to Ibaar after securing passage for themselves. 

Not only did she have no recollection of being somewhere so clean, it was giant, like it had been built specifically for beings as big or bigger than Ashla. Or… Shin glanced down at her shoes as she came to a stop at the top of the ramp - mauve she was just small. 

There was a rustling in a closed off room to the side, Shin watched the durasteel door carefully, tucking her hands back into her cover to wrap around the metal cylinder she’d been trusted with; Ashla told her someone would be here, a droid? She didn’t know any binary, but she’d promised the droid would understand if she showed it the item. 

There was something special about it, and the way it thrummed where she gripped it in both hands, as if there was something reaching out to her, like Ashla had. Something… that understood? There were intricacies she didn’t know how to explain, couldn’t even begin to imagine the complexity of the kyber inside, or the journey it had been on to heal from the abuse it had suffered at the hands of someone… Dark. 

“Who’s there?” A robotic voice called out, freezing every spindly muscle in the child’s frame as heavy metal feet thudded against the cold floor. The door slid open with a hiss; dull silver eyes met glowing yellow, both being's heads cocking to the side. “You’re not supposed to be in here,” 

Fear ignited in her veins like a fire, thin fingers curled around the cold metal in her hands, thrusting it in front of herself as a beam of white sprung forth the moment her finger ghosted over the button. The droid moved as if startled, springing back as Shin gripped the hilt with both hands, arms already shaking with the exertion on underdeveloped muscle to keep the blade from dropping; she didn’t know what this thing was, but she could smell the ozone burning around the bright light, and feel the heat where it scorched the air around her. 

“You are going to hurt yourself!” He scolded, vocal chips screeching as he attempted to step around the blade, growing frustrated as the child turned to keep him in front of her. “Or me!” 

Huyang was at a loss in terms of what to do about the situation. A local kid stumbles onto his ship with one of Ahsoka’s lightsaber, and then threatens him with it! A Jedi would never-

“Tighten your stance,” He instructed sharply, there was no use in letting the kid lob off an arm while they waited for Ahsoka to return, hopefully soon. “Don’t lock your knees, but you can’t just hold it like some kind of a toy. The lightsaber is the lifeline of a Jedi, for thousands of generations before you.”

Shin followed his instruction, finding the saber easier to keep up when she wasn’t too lose in some areas and unmoving in others. Their brows furrowed as they watched the strange droid. “Who are you?” They rasped, nostrils flaring as the droid stepped closer. 

“Lightsaber architect and designer of the Jedi order. I contain a record of every lightsaber ever made, and the Jedi who fashioned them.” He explained quickly. 

“Ashla made this herself?”

“Ash-” Huyang paused; if he could get a headache, he knew he would have one by now. “Yes, she did. Where is Lady Tano at now?” 

“What’s a Jedi?” Shin butted in, nose scrunching in telltale avoidance; they had no idea where Ashla went, and that was worrying, what if she was secretly Empire or a pirate, or;

The droid sombered, his demeanor changing in a split second. “There was a time, not so long ago, when all knew of the Jedi. They were keepers of the peace for the citizens of the republic,” 

Shin’s arms lowered, the white of the blade disengaging back into the clunky hilt as she listened. “What’s a republic?” 

The servos in his neck whirred and clicked as his head snapped up to stare at her in disbelief. “Take a seat, youngling, we have much to discuss,” 

Ahsoka stepped back onto the shuttle with a sigh, shedding her cloak the moment the ramp was closed. Huyang was sitting at the table, holo novels projecting above them as he read aloud. 

Shin was sitting on their knees, elbows braced on the table as she stared up at slow-moving projections, stories of the Jedi that Ahsoka had even learned once, so many years ago. 

“The Unifying Force is a vast cosmic power. You may not sense it yet, but with patience and insight, you will. The Force is the stars and galaxies, the rippling surface of space and time. It is the whisper in the night that tells you your destiny… Make no mistake, young Shin; The Force does have a Will, and it is the will of the force that you are here today,” He explained to the attentive child, looking almost warmly at the youngling as they soaked up his stories. 

The Togruta settled her shoulder against a wall, watching the way silver-blue eyes danced across the different lines of the hologram committing the lines of the ancient Jedi crest to memory. Ahsoka allowed her mind to push out then, reaching into the howling of the force that was Shin’s unique presence, something playful and teasing, met with a familiarity that had the child spinning in their seat and poking their head up and over the top. “Ahsoka!”

The woman’s facial marking rose in Huyang’s direction as she pushed off the wall and stepped closer. “Try as you might, Lady Tano, you cannot hide from who you are, especially if you intend to take this youngling on as your Padawan,” He explained himself as he rose from his seat to greet her. 

“Huyang,” 

Seeming to sense her indecisiveness, the droid cut her off. “Apprentice, then. I often forget that you do not identify as a Jedi, despite your numerous accomplishments,”

Rolling her eyes at him, Ahsoka spotted her shoto on the table, using the force to call it back into her hand and watching as Shin’s eyes went wide at such a display. “Thank you for keeping this safe for me, Shin,” Their head nodded quickly as they rose from their bench.

“Did you get what you came for?” The youngling asked as her old boots hit the ground, following Ahsoka as she led the way to the cockpit, with Huyang following behind.

Patting the pouch hidden under her cloak, the older woman nodded. “And then some,” 

Settling down into the pilots seat with Huyang perching in his own seat beside her, Shin stayed awkwardly between them. “That’s right,,, you’re too small right now,” She thought out loud, bringing her first to her chin in a way reminiscent of her Grand Master Obi-Wan as she thought of the best way to get through orbital turbulence without jostling the small and brittle human around too much. 

It took some work, and much less than standard modifications that would have made Echo have an aneurysm, Shin was soon buckled just behind Huyang, bundled in seatbelts, with their feet dangling off the floor comedically. 

“Have you ever been to space before, Young Shin?” Huyang questioned as the pair went through their checklist. 

“Nuh-uh,” 

“I do suggest holding on, I am aware of who trained Lady Tano to fly, it is quite wild.”

“You’re being dramatic again, Huyang,” Ahsoka shook her head as she powered up the engines and engaged the thrusters. “Next stop, Alderaan,” 

As their ship sprung into the sky, Shin stared out of the viewport, watching the world and the life they’d known begin to slowly slink away into nothingness before focusing on the fast approach of space. Their small form strained against the safety belts where they leaned forward against them, taking in the moons and the stars in absolute awe, blind to the woman at the controls, purposely going slow to give the youngling the time they needed to observe as she prepped the hyperdrive. 

Blues and purples mirrored in their eyes as they started their breach of hyperspace, as big as saucers with their mouth agape. There was no doubt in Ahsoka’s mind that they were unable to feel the force, in this moment, she could feel them as they reached out to grasp at the unifying cosmic power around them and felt the way it permeated all things, from the galaxies they passed in a flash of light, to the droid in front of them, and even to the smallest strip of durasteel that flaked from the tail of the ship into the void the further they traveled. 

If there was one reason to be proud of what they were doing, for Huyang and Ahsoka to see the effect even their smallest actions could have, both would bet money that nothing less than the absolute fall of the empire would ever come to top this.

TIMELINE 10 ABY: 9 ABY: Ahsoka Series/Mandalore S3 8 ABY: 7 ABY: 6 ABY: 5 ABY: Mandalore is destroyed, Sabine Wren leaves Ahsoka and Shin Tano 4 ABY: 3 ABY: 2 ABY: 1 ABY: 0 ABY: Battle of Yavin, Ahsoka Tano returns to take Sabine Wren under her wing 1 BBY: Rebels S4 End, Ezra Bridger goes to Peridea 2 BBY: Rebels S3 3 BBY: 4 BBY: Rebels S2, Ahsoka Tano 'dies' (returns to this timeline/Malachor upon 1 BBY revival by Ezra Bridger) 5 BBY: Rebels S1 (Fulcrum works with Ghost crew + reveals only Ahsoka Tano, Shin Hati continues to work intel + on the ground BTS with Ahsoka Tano) 6 BBY: 7 BBY: 8 BBY: 9 BBY: Ahsoka Novel End | Ahsoka Tano finds and takes in 7 year old Shin Hati 10 BBY: Ahsoka Novel Start 11 BBY: 12 BBY: 13 BBY: 14 BBY: 15 BBY: 16 BBY: Shin Hati/Tano is Born 17 BBY: 18 BBY: 19 BBY: Order 66 | Ezra Bridger is Born 20 BBY: 21 BBY: Sabine Wren is born 22 BBY: Clone Wars Starts 36 BBY: Ahsoka Tano Born 41 BBY: Anakin Skywalker Born 57 BBY: Obi-Wan Kenobi Born Togruti Translations Yhe'na Det Och'sa - Survive The Stars Viida Ke Aht - Time To Rest

[lokisarmyjustinvadedmidgard]

I only watch Ahsoka for the plot

The plot:

[galaxywhump]

Prompt: Wren doing something that's blatantly stupid/suicidal (like going out into the jungle to pick fights with the wildlife) when he becomes apathetic about his own life, and Daniel's reaction to that?

[SV-240 masterlist]

Thank you for the prompt, anon! Sorry it's so late, it's been in the making for a while now and I finally got the motivation to finish it.

Warning: this is a rather heavy one; it's also not canon.

contents: slavery whump, forced relationship, creepy/intimate whumper, suicide attempt (nothing graphic), depression, restraints, comforted by whumper.

~~~

Wren leaves the house without Daniel’s knowledge.

He still has the tracker, of course, but when he left, Daniel was napping, so hopefully he won’t wake up for a few more hours. Wren just wants to go for a swim in the picturesque pond he remembers the path to. He’s unarmed, without so much as a kitchen knife, but he’s not scared. He’s not anything.

There is an emptiness inside of him that has had a grip on him for several weeks now. It’s the sort of hopelessness he’s been trying so hard to avoid, but instead of making him Daniel’s loving partner, it’s only making him… do this. Go for a walk in the jungle, looking straight ahead, not scanning his surroundings, barely flinching when he hears rustling and other sounds of the dense forest.

He’s had these thoughts a few times before, but now he’s decided to follow them. Not directly, even though he knows there are several options inside the house; instead, he lets fate decide, since it seems to control his life anyway. So he goes for a swim. If fate decides he should stay underwater, he won’t fight it, nor will he fight if it decides not to let him reach the pond at all.

He’s clothed, and yet feels so exposed, a puny human in a jungle full of animals he knows nothing about, having only met one, which tried to kill him. Maybe there are others like it. Maybe one is already stalking him.

Keep walking, not running, walking with calm emptiness. Get away from Daniel’s house, leave his life on the jungle’s mercy. He frowns when he feels a small pang of regret. He should turn back. He should live. But it’s too late now, isn’t it? He’s far enough that the way back would be anything but safe, and he doesn’t want Daniel to question him once he returns. He takes a deep breath, clenches his fists, and keeps walking.

There are noises all around him.

There’s a noise somewhere behind him.

Soft steps, a low growl. He’s being stalked.

He closes his eyes.

And then there’s a familiar man-made sound, cracking bolts of plasma piercing the air; one followed by the sound of the animal fleeing, one hitting a tree just a few centimeters left of Wren, making him jolt in place.

“Hi there,” he hears Daniel’s voice, almost playful. He swallows and slowly turns around to face his captor, who’s standing still with his arms crossed and his eyes narrowed.

“You missed,” Wren says, lifting his chin, though there is nothing more to his defiance, no spark in his eyes.

“If I wanted to shoot you, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.” There is no affection in Daniel’s voice, and Wren prefers it this way. “Have you forgotten about your tracker?”

“No.”

Daniel raises his eyebrows.

“What was even your plan?”

“I went for a walk,” Wren explains, looking him straight in the eye; his expression remains empty.

“Good one,” Daniel scoffs. “You know you’d be dead before the day’s over, don’t you?”

“I do.”

The silence that follows is unbearably heavy. Daniel gets it, and for a split second he looks genuinely surprised before going back to his usual unbothered expression.

“Come here. Let’s go home.”

Wren doesn’t break eye contact.

“And if I run?” he asks. “Will you miss again?”

“I’ll shoot, but I won’t kill you. I’ll target your leg, maybe both, and I’ll drag you back. Now come here.”

He does, his head lowered, brow furrowed, mind blank. The jungle around them is bustling with life, never completely quiet, yet the silence between them feels suffocating enough that it could spread over the entire forest, forcing it into stupor. Neither of them says a single word on the way home.

Home. Wren sighs. Home. Daniel’s house is his home now, there’s no denying that. He’s too tired to deny anything anyway, not to mention worry about what Daniel’s going to do to him after his stunt.

They’re still silent when they reach the house and the door closes behind them. Wren follows Daniel to the living room, sits down on the couch, and watches him retrieve two pairs of leather cuffs.

“You’ll have to be restrained more after this, you know that?”

“Yeah.” Wren puts his arms in front, wrists close together, and does the same with his ankles. The cuffs close, a familiar sensation, and he stares down at them, barely feeling anything.

“It’s for your own safety.” Daniel doesn’t crouch down, doesn’t sit next to Wren, still standing in front of him, towering over him.

“Yeah,” Wren repeats, his voice monotone; he only wants this pointless conversation to end, and Daniel can sense it, which doesn’t mean he cares.

“Look at me.”

When he does, Daniel frowns seeing the weary emptiness in his eyes.

“Why did you do it?” he asks, and his accusatory tone makes Wren flinch, like he’s being scolded. It’s the last thing he wants to experience today.

“Take a guess,” he mutters, lowering his gaze, as if even looking up requires too much energy.

Daniel sighs and his frown deepens. He knows the truth, as much as he doesn’t want to accept it.

“I won’t let you do that, Wren.”

“I know. Cause I have nowhere to run, right?” For the first time today, there is something in Wren’s voice, the tiniest of sparks. “I can’t fucking escape you and this-this fucking nightmare, I’m stuck here and you won’t even- you won’t even let me-” He gets choked up, and to his frustration he tears up. “Fuck, just fucking hold me already and spew your bullshit, I know you’re going to do it anyway.”

Without a word, Daniel sits down next to Wren, who leans against him and exhales slowly when Daniel embraces him.

“I’m not going to spew any bullshit. I just…” Daniel trails off for a moment and gives Wren a light squeeze. “I wasn’t expecting this, and it hurts.”

“Oh, it hurts you?” Wren laughs in disbelief. “Poor you, the guy you’re keeping captive and torturing is a depressed loser. Cry me a river.”

“It hurts me because I love you, Wren.”

“You said you weren’t going to spew bullshit.”

“It’s not bullshit to me, and I hope that soon it won’t be bullshit to you, either.” Daniel sighs, a heavy sigh that makes Wren even angrier, which he knows is, at the very least, better than complete emptiness. Daniel doesn’t have the right to feel and react this way, not when he’s the cause of all of this. “And remember that you were depressed even before I bought you.” He feels Wren tense up at that. “You can’t pretend otherwise, it was right in your file. Depressed, isolated, drinking problem. You were lonely, and that made it possible for Berkeley to make you disappear without raising any eyebrows. Now you’re here, I’m here with you, I know about your problems, and I want to help. On my terms and at my pace, but I do.”

“You’re not helping,” Wren croaks, trying and failing to blink away tears, Daniel’s blunt words feeling like a dagger piercing his heart, over and over again. “I wasn’t- It was better than this, I wanted to get better, I just…”

He just couldn’t, and it was only getting worse, until he started spending entire hours - he was too busy to afford days - curled up in his bed, staring at the wall, questioning the point of it all, and he was alone, completely alone, and-

“On Earth, I wouldn’t have been there to stop you.”

Daniel’s words are like a punch to the face, strong enough that Wren would sway on his feet if he wasn’t sitting down. It’s true, he realizes in horror, and a painful sob reverberates through his body; he slumps in Daniel’s embrace, overwhelmed by the most terrifying what if he’s ever had to consider.

“Shh, sweetheart.” Daniel gently runs his hand up and down Wren’s arm and pulls him closer as he sobs, unable to stop, because Daniel is right, and he was so stupid, and in a twisted way he almost let Daniel win.

What could have been back on Earth doesn't matter anymore. Here, if he dies, Daniel wins. It’s a way to escape, but it comes at too great a cost, and now that he can think more or less clearly again, he can’t believe he even attempted that. So stupid, so stupid, and if it wasn’t for Daniel, the very same person he's fighting against, he wouldn’t be here right now.

He won’t thank Daniel, he can’t, but he leans into his touch ever so slightly, and he’s still crying, so overwhelmed by what he almost did and so relieved that he’s still here, still fighting.

“Cry it out, sweetheart. I’m right here.”

For the first time, though he would never admit it out loud, he’s grateful for that.

~~~

taglist: @faewhump @inky-whump @whole-and-apart-and-between @whatwasmyprevioususername @procrastinatingsab @funky-little-glitter-bomb @goneuntil @redstainedsocks @luminouswhump @lonesome--hunter @as-a-matter-of-whump @renkocchi @whump-only @muddy-swamp-bitch @girlwithacoolcat @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @sophierose002 @whump-headspace @to-whump-or-not-to-whump @kixngiggles @ohwhumpydays @whumpsical @wibbly-wobbly-whump @stab-the-son-of-a @his-unspoken-words @pumpkin-spice-whump @onlyhappywhenitpains @suspicious-whumping-egg @morning-star-whump @burtlederp @there-will-always-be-blood @springwhump

[g-h-0-s-t-3-d]

See My Scars - Ghost x Hawk Scene

Pairings: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Wren "Hawk" Yarrow (Original Character)

A/N: Short scene from later in Simon + Wren's story. Takes place in Russia after the 141 finds out Graves has been smuggling weapons for Makarov. Graves takes Wren hostage and tortures her, Simon comes to her rescue, and Wren kills Graves. Simon and Wren have a heart-to-heart one night following, and suddenly they're confessing. Then they're kissing. Here's what happens next...

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Injuries/Scars, Military Themes (Call of Duty), Mentioned Torture (past, by Graves), Implied Abuse (past, by Graves), Mentions of Simon’s Past, Friends to Lovers, Canon-Typical Swearing, Implied NSFW

It was all a blur when he laid her down, large hands surprisingly gentle with her small, bruised frame. She saw him pause… hesitation? She draws her knees up to her chest and waits patiently, her own nerves beginning to get the better of her. 

Shit, this was a mistake, I - 

Her breath stops when she meets his gaze. He peers down at her, eyes dark and intense, a great strength suppressed between his taught shoulders. “Y’sure you want to do this, Wren?”

His voice is deep, gravelly. She’d be lying if it didn’t turn her on, but she knows the weight of what they’re about to do - she knows they can’t go back.

Maybe I don’t want to go back, a voice screams inside of her, threatening to burst out her chest as she nods slowly, replacing all the things she wishes she could say with a single, ‘yes.’

He hums in acknowledgement and crawls toward her, hands gingerly beginning to explore. He rubs at her sides, her shoulders, and commits each freckle and blemish on her face to memory. His finger draws a line up her jaw and comes to rest on her cheek, right underneath the gash Graves had just given her. She flinches at the contact, despite how gentle it is, as his finger ghosts over dried blood and traces the shape of the gash all the way from the bridge of her nose to the corner of her eye.

His gaze is cold, unwavering as he studies it. She feels him tense up ever so slightly, and for a moment she’s worried he’s gotten cold feet, but he growls lowly and shifts his deep brown eyes to meet hers.

“Fucker had it coming. If you hadn’t killed him, I would’ve.”

“Simon,” she sighs, bringing her hand up to rest over his on her cheek, tiny fingers drawing in comparison to his. He grunts and shakes his head. She’s still reeling over the loss of him - of Phillip - and he knows that. But that wouldn’t make him forgive what Graves did to her.

“I would’ve.”

“I know,” she murmurs, leaning her head into his hand. His eyes soften, though they keep their dark, almost hungry hue. Then he kisses the bridge of her nose, right where the scar began, and dips his head to her neck, softly mouthing at the exposed skin.

His lips on hers earlier that night had been one thing, but his lips on her body now… a heat she’d long forgotten about rose slowly in her core, her breathing hastening as his hands tug at the bottom of her shirt. Simon moves slowly, carefully, because he knows how fragile she is right now.

He wasn’t prepared for the mess of bruises that adorn her chest and ribs, deep purple tones splotched over skin that was far too perfect to be hurt.

His breath hitches when he sees them - all of them - staining the skin of his woman. He tenses again, repressing his anger. Wren recoils out of nervousness, tears welling in the corners of her eyes, and Simon panics, quickly extending his hand out to her. He doesn’t know how to handle this, how to treat her… and he’s scared.

“Graves did this to you?” Simon utters, frozen in place, a deep hatred slowly bubbling up and conflicting with his fear of scaring Wren off.

“Not all of it,” she replies, voice low and somber. “But, most, yeah.”

“Did he… touch you?” He tries with every fiber of his being to keep his voice restrained, but Simon had never been too good at dealing with anger. He could repress it, sure, but that was what always drove so many people away - he was cold, aloof, unapproachable. And when his feelings were now so strong, so overwhelming, all his instincts tell him to run away, to isolate and compartmentalize.

But he knows, maybe painfully so, that deep down he doesn’t want that. He wants her. So he stays, and he waits with tense shoulders and a clenched fist.

“No. Wouldn’t let him.” Her voice trails off as she tries desperately to read his gaze, cursing each blemish that greeted Simon so prominently. Simon breathes a noticeable sigh of relief, his shoulders relaxing and his eyes softening. If she looks hard enough, she swears she can see the wetness of tears in the very corners of his eyes, mixing with the remainder of the eyeblack he just couldn’t wash off at this point. She sighs. “I know they’re not pretty. If you don’t-”

“Wren.”

Her eyes snap up to watch him wordlessly undress, his huge hands lingering on the hem of his shirt before slowly pulling it over his head. He stops about halfway through, his hand shaking as he holds the fabric just over his ribs and holds her gaze silently - watching, waiting, debating.

Then he hesitantly pulls the fabric completely up to reveal a long, dark gash across his right rib cage that had never quite healed right. The skin was patched with ridges and divots, dark red marks adorning the mottled skin.

“Hung,” he explains. “Mexican cartel. Corrupted an old captain of mine. I won’t burden you with the details.”

“Si…”

“All these burns,” he nods to each red splotch, so numerous and concentrated that there was hardly any untouched skin there, “Field burns. Or cigarette burns… from my father. This,” he opens up his right hand to reveal a long slit with what looked like scars from stitches, “was from digging out. When I was buried alive with ‘em. Used his jawbone and it fucked up my hand.”

She tries hard to hold back tears - Simon never spoke much about his past. She knew things, of course, but not when he was this vulnerable. But he holds her gaze, and it's intense.

“And everything else? Wren, I have been beaten and shot and stabbed and fucked - if you think I’m going to be bothered by some marks, then I’m a goddamn hypocrite and you’re out of your fucking mind.”

She quirks her lips up into a sad smile, reaching her hand out and beginning to trace each mark on his chest. “Si… ‘M sorry all that happened. I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t need to say anything, Little Bird,” he grunts, leaning back down and catching her lips once more. “Just have me.”

And she did.