#I don't care if it gets extinct soon

[pokaww]

Joe and his imaginary friends.🌸🌸

Bibulli 🐡🩵

Baflay 🦋💚

Lecalexa 🐈🩷

Xiuanlinlin☁️💛

[milksockets]

why scan?

scanning is something i've done for probably about 12 years now (i'm ancient, for this site), with varying degrees of regularity, intensity, etc. it has ratcheted up since the dawn of 2023, though, which begs the question: why? why put so much time into what could not-wrongly be considered a passive activity, hunched over a piece of clunky machinery with the express purpose of preserving others' creations? the answers are several, and fascinating (not really).

i am a [sober] drug addict. anything i pursue, consume, create--more often than not--ends up taking on addictive qualities. i'll eat the same specific food item for a month, then never want to see, let alone taste it, again. i'll listen to one song on repeat for days until i'd rather hear nails on a chalkboard than have it shuffle on and assault my ears. one of the reasons that my scanning has increased in volume recently is that i acquired library cards to the 3 nyc library systems: nypl, brooklyn, and queens. as soon as i was able to, i pillaged + plundered those fine centers of learning, leaving any given library with as many hefty scan-worthy books as i could [barely] carry. here, finally, was a *free* way of obtaining more + more + more visual media to consume.

2023 saw me get my first legal, full-time job. as such, my adjusting to that hellish reality resulted in a steep decline in my own personal creative output. collaging, writing, and rapping all fell to the wayside as i slowly acclimated to a life of work that almost everyone else my age has known for over a decade is generally unbearable + detrimental to the maintenance of outside pursuits. in times of famine within my own artistic harvest, scanning, archiving, and sharing others' work is a means of feeling as though i am still contributing to the global oeuvre.

there’s an element of losing my mental self in a series of physical motions that becomes almost automatic after some time. “zoning out” is not something endemic to my daily life; if anything, i’m almost always too zoned in. relief is necessary.  especially considering the shitshow this past year has been in terms of my personal life.

i am a product of capitalism’s cultivating a craving for constant consumption. 

it seems that visual content is only going to continue to get more + more uninspired. has everything been done? did social media ruin it all? in any case, i feel a need to document the past. to a degree, it’s my version of doomsday prepping. (god forbid books go extinct altogether.) 

i have always gravitated towards solitary activities. this topic could be a thesis in its own right.

i thrive on external validation. this reliance is something i’ve improved upon over the past several years, but it hasn’t been altogether extinguished. even though the materials i scan are not of my own creation, i nevertheless feel a vague pride in showcasing them. occasional appreciation thereof satisfies this fixation on others’ attention, albeit in a diluted form. 

i am fortunate to live in a city bursting to the gills with cultural institutions. i am also lucky enough to have some disposable income that can be directed toward fulfilling my ravenous desire for visual media. 

((i keep getting messages about the specifics of my scanner + "process":

i have a cheap ass hp envy 6055e and i just use the software it comes with.

there's nothing special or fancy happening here, and i could definitely invest in a better and/or a large format scanner, etc. but i really just don't care enough and it's not like i'm getting paid for this lmao))

[kittenshift-17]

Omg I feel like any teen wolf fic (sterek fic) you write would be amazing, on that topic ur an amazing writer and I’m glad that one day I stumbled upon one of your fics. And also speaking of sterek fics (or any teen wolf fic) do u have and recommendations on what to read for that fandom???

Okay, so I took my time with this one because I had read some, but not a lot... but oh boy, did I deep dive into the research to bring you some top tier Sterek Fic Recs.

TOP 20 STEREK RECS

Play It Again by metisket ***I LOVED THIS ONE***

In which Stiles goes along with one of Derek’s plans and ends up in an alternate universe as a result. He should’ve known better. He did know better, actually, and that means he has no one to blame but himself.

“Laura wants to lure the kid in with food and kindness and make a pet of him, like a feral cat. Derek wants to have him arrested for stalking. They’re at an impasse. (And the rest of the family is staying emphatically out of it in a way that suggests bets have been placed.)”

So Shed Your Skin and Lets Get Started by halfhardtorock

He's sixteen and in the woods on the wrong side of the town-line and he's so fucking fucked.

He knows he's not supposed to run, they teach that to you in preschool (don't run from a Were, back away slowly and walk with care), but they never told you how it would feel, standing alone in the dark with your heart beating in your throat as those glowing eyes tracked you from the shadows.

Don't Feed the Wolves by Amazonia_8

Stiles took the dare, because what else was he supposed to do when the whole lacrosse team was chanting his name? Even though the werewolf pack had left Beacon Hills years ago, nobody was stupid enough to set foot on the Hale property.

Except, apparently, Stiles.

Now he's got a feral werewolf following him around town with the sole purpose of claiming Stiles as his own.

so now you've got the best of me (come on and take the rest of me) by mangotangos

"It doesn't matter how hot Derek is, how Stiles barely comes up to his shoulders or how Derek's hands could probably fit really snugly around his waist. None of it matters, because he's basically a glorified babysitter for the foreseeable future and Stiles wants him out. Operation annoy Deputy Derek Hale into leaving begins now."

~or, the one where Stiles' dad hires Deputy Derek to be Stiles' bodyguard, Stiles hates him on principle and then 2 seconds later falls in lust (and love) and tries to seduce him into bed with his sexual prowess.

There Are No Wolves In California by kitsunequeen

Hunter!Stiles accidentally hits a wolf with his car and can't bear to leave him in the road to die. It's not till he gets the wolf home that he sees its eyes glow red... ------- Even everyday roadkill is upsetting, but this thing… Moments ago it was probably a majestic beast, and now it’s a mangled pile of soon-to-be rotting flesh. He presses a shaking hand to the only part of its chest left intact, not even thinking about whether it'll give him rabies or some other awful disease.

He’s about to pull back when something even crazier happens.

He realizes the wolf is breathing.

(not so) Pure Imagination by theroguesgambit

"There is a world where whenever someone fantasizes about you, you can physically feel it, but you have no idea who is thinking it about you."

Stiles knows it's wrong, but he's been Fantasizing about Derek and he can't bring himself to stop. Derek doesn't know who's taken an interest in him, but he's enjoying it way more than he probably should.

Little Wild Animal by DiscontentedWinter

Derek Hale finds a feral human on his pack's property. Humans are supposed to be extinct. But then, Stiles is full of surprises.

The Darkness Inside by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

The sheriff watched him for a moment, then he sighed and turned slightly. He reached out to open a cabinet door beside him, and pulled out a shelf. It was on a track, so it rolled out of the cabinet fairly easily, and held a small CCTV. Derek frowned and inched his chair to the side a little bit so he could get a better angle.

He was looking at a teenager, or someone at least young enough to be the same age as Scott. He was sitting on a bed in what looked to be a larger room, the area he was in surrounded by four glass walls, with his legs crossed and head tilted.

He was also staring directly into the camera, as if he knew someone was watching. A creepy smile slowly slid onto the teen’s face, and he held up one hand, wiggling his fingers in a slow, eery wave.

Derek felt his mouth run dry. He didn’t know who this kid was, but he didn’t like him.

“Who is that?” he asked quietly.

“That,” said the sheriff, “is my son.”

What I Did On My Summer Vacation by grimm for missingsun

There's something weird about Beacon Hills that Stiles can't quite put his finger on. The way everyone in town knows his name the day he arrives. The way they insist the melancholic howling that echoes through the forest every night is just a dog. The way his dad denies getting a dog, even though Stiles comes home to find one sprawled across his bed, some big black thing whose eyes gleam red in the right light. The way that massive oak tree out in the woods vibrates under his touch, pulsing with sickly life.

There's something weird going on in this town, and Stiles is determined to get to the bottom of it.

Patterns of Intention by drunktuesdays

Derek looked like the stuff of his deepest fantasies. His shirt was rumpled where Stiles had his hands in it, and he was breathing hard as well, chest heaving. His eyes—his eyes were glazed over and he looked stunned, like he’d been—like Stiles had—

“No,” Stiles said, blood draining from his face. The word was croaky and felt like it had to be wrenched out of his chest. “God, no.”

Wants & Needs by MadcapRomantic

Derek Hale has been participating in the Beacon Hills Mating Run for a decade, each year coming up without a mate. His mother, convinced this is his lucky year, persuades him to run one last time.

Enter Stiles, a young Omega with an unwanted Alpha nipping at his heels.

Family or not, Peter is determined to have Stiles.

But convinced they are True Mates, there isn't anything Derek won't do to keep Stiles safe.

I don't know why, but I guess it has something to do with you by LunaCanisLupus_22 for xXxClassifiedxXx 

“You smell like me,” the guy says, scowling as he crowds in and Stiles staggers back between the coats and finally hits the wall. “Why do you smell like me?”

He barely lets out a garbled sound as the blood rushes to his cheeks. “No reason,” Stiles yelps, struggling to get his footing and grasping at a whirlwind of puffy fur.

Or the one where Stiles goes thrift shopping and steals an alpha's shirt. And gets a lot more than he bargains for.

Sleeping Dogs by starsystems

Let sleeping dogs lie. Prov. Do not instigate trouble.;Leave something alone if it might cause trouble.

Derek Hale is asleep in Stiles's bed. And it just escalates from there.

Because of course it does.

We've Written Volumes (in Blood and Scars and Ink) by notthequiettype

Stiles is on his back on hard-packed dirt. He's cold and there are leaves stuck to his neck and there's a four inch gash in his side that he thinks he can feel his ribs through. There's so much blood around him he feels like he's floating on a pond and everything is so much dimmer above him than it was a minute ago, which is saying something because he's in the dark center of the forest in the middle of the night. And the worst of it is that he's alone, totally alone with the smell of his own blood drowning him and the soft side of him run through by a tree.

As his eyes slip shut, the last thing he thinks is, "This is going to kill my dad."

In Case You Didn't Know by Blu_Crowe

Stiles moves into the lofts, and he and Derek start to get closer. Unfortunately Stiles is a moron, and Derek is bad at feelings. They figure it out... Eventually.

Stilinski's Home for Wayward Wolves by owlpostagain

“At least your puppies knock first,” Stiles snorts. “Here I thought their alpha raised them to be well-mannered.” 



“There’s a sign,” Derek responds stiffly. 



Stiles, whose curiosity outweighs even his hardest of grudges, abandons his chilly façade of nonchalance in a heartbeat. He jumps right up and all but pushes Derek out of the way in his effort to get to the window, and sure enough when he leans outside there’s a laminated strip of cardstock duct taped to the vinyl siding: 



DON’T FORGET TO KNOCK Stiles gets cranky when we scare him

---

Or, in which Stiles Stilinski moves to Beacon Hills for his junior year of high school and accidentally adopts a pack of teenage werewolves.

Lock All The Doors Behind You by entanglednow

He has no idea what you're supposed to say when you find one of your...werewolf acquaintances, completely out of their mind, growling like they're about to see what your insides taste like. There's no handbook for this. Stiles is thinking that if he survives he might write one.

Feral Formalities by Aleandri

"There was silence as no one seemed to breath at the table.

Derek had just gifted Stiles, an unmated Omega, with food.

Right in front of another Alpha.

Who he was on a date with.

To discuss being heat partners...."

*In which, Stiles presents as Omega, and everyone wants a piece of the alpha-baby-making ass!*

for a good time, call... by EvanesDust for kalika_999

Stiles unlocks his phone to send out a quick text asking his father what he wants to eat, even though he’ll get salad regardless, and notices a strange number on his recent call log.

His face scrunches in confusion before realization dawns on him.

Oh shit.

Events from the night before peek through the hazy fog of his mind. Stiles thought, or he was hoping, that the phone call was a dream. But there it is, staring at him in the face—a one minute and 57-second call to an unfamiliar number.

Oh God.

Did he seriously call someone—possibly an alpha werewolf!—for phone sex?

...Or the one where Stiles drunk dials a very grumpy alpha werewolf and propositions him for phone sex. Hilarity, misunderstandings, and feelings ensue.

Golden Boy by trilliath 

Apparently it still amuses his uncle to buy sex slaves for him, no matter how steadfastly he refuses to use them. Derek ducks into his tent with a resigned sigh, prepared to dress and reassign whatever new beauty Peter has bought him. They do make for loyal servants, so he can't really complain about Peter's 'gifts'. But it is annoying to deal with, to have to spend his evening sorting out a slave instead of being able to go right to bed. It's just something he has to learn to accept as a byproduct of serving alongside his uncle.

But when he lays eyes on the boy laying amid his furs, he finds his breath catching in his throat. His skin is golden with the candle-light glimmering against the sheen of oil that has been slathered on his bared body. His lips are parted, and they work over inaudible words or sounds. His skin is flushed, nipples peaked and pierced with simple but unexpected golden rings. He's spectacularly beautiful in the candlelight. The many glowing candles that have been added to his usual lighting cast glittering edges and shadows, imbuing an almost unearthly golden color to his skin.

It's enough that Derek hesitates.

[harunayuuka2060]

Vil: I find it unexpected that you had chosen to be closed for the entirety of the previous weekend, Azul.

Azul: We went on a short vacation.

Vil: With MC, I supposed?

Azul: Yes. It was quite a lot of fun. *chuckles*

Vil: And you didn't even think of inviting me.

Azul: I'm awfully aware that you have a busy schedule. I couldn't possibly bother you, however, I would surely invite you next time.

Vil: *sigh* Anyway, I came here to borrow MC. Are they here at the moment?

Azul: I'm afraid they wouldn't be working today.

Vil: Why? A day-off after a weekend vacation?

Azul: They are exhausted after they had an intense pole-dancing competition with Floyd and Jade's father.

Vil: ...

Vil: What?

MC: We're doing an exotic dance. Not an extinct dance. Why the actual fuck you look like you're being grilled on a skewer?

Leech's dad: What? This is sexiness! Tell 'em, ma!

Leech's mom: *just smiling* No comment, dear. But you're doing great.

Azul: *recording the whole situation and is trying not to laugh like Jade and Floyd who's been wheezing for an hour*

Cheka: MC! MC! Let's go to Unca!

MC: *cuddling him* I'm exhausted. You go there yourself.

Cheka: *whines* But I want you to see Unca~!

MC: I know his face. I don't have to see him.

Cheka: *pouts*

Ruggie: Boss, it's rare to see you this tired.

MC: *yawns* Yeah. Not used to travelling under water.

Ruggie: I figured. By the way, boss? Can I borrow some money from you again? I'll give it back as soon as I can.

MC: When did I ask you to pay, Ruggie?

Ruggie: Shyeheehee! Right. Thanks, boss.

Ruggie: I'll do your groceries.

MC: Okay. *uses Cheka as a chin rest*

Cheka: Are you going to sleep?

MC: Yes... Shush...

Deuce: I wonder if boss is inside.

Ace: We didn't see them at Mostro Lounge.

Jamil: However, wouldn't it be rude to visit them without prior notice?

Floyd: Nah~. They don't really care.

Kalim: That's great! 'Cause we badly need their help.

Floyd: *kicks the door open*

Ace, Deuce, Jamil, and Kalim: !!!

Jamil: Don't you know how to knock?!

Floyd: Knock-knock~. There.

Jamil: ...

Ace: Let's just go inside.

Deuce: Boss... Are you sleeping right now?

MC: My eyes are closed but I'm listening.

Cheka: Multi-tasking!

Ace: Okay... Well, we have a problem in the Basketball Club.

Kalim: And Pop Music Club!

MC: Uh-huh. And what are those problems that deserve half of my attention?

Floyd: We need a basketball coach~.

MC: You can do that one, Floyd.

Floyd: *scoots to their side* But that's a boring job~.

MC: And what about the Pop Music Club?

Jamil: They're going to get disbanded if they fail to find new members to join their club.

Kalim: Please, MC! Can you take part in our concert?!

MC: What d'you wanna me do? Sing?

Kalim: Yes!

MC: *opens their eyes and looks straight at him* What if I have an awful voice?

Floyd: They have a beautiful voice. I've heard it once.

MC: Tch. You're not helping, Floyd.

Deuce: I want to hear boss sing!

Ace: Geez. Your fanboy energy, Deuce.

Jamil: I know it's not much, but I can offer my services to you.

MC: *raises an eyebrow*

MC: ...

MC: You cook curry?

Jamil: ...

Jamil: *smiles* Yes.

MC: We have a deal.

Floyd: Hehe~. You're so cheap.

MC: There's no cheap with good food.

Cheka: Unca can cook curry!

MC: No, he can't.

Ace: Why is he suddenly mentioning Leona-senpai here?

MC: He's trying to pair me with his Unca. *yawns*

Cheka: *pouts* But you and Unca would fit together.

Floyd: Just give up. My dad got a kick in the face and when he tried to set them up with a friend.

MC: Yeah. Just like Floyd said.

Cheka: ...

Cheka: Are you going to kick me in the face? *puppy eyes*

MC: Yes. But you're a kid so you're exempted.

Cheka: Hehe~.

Ace: Wow.

[smokescreenimusprime]

watched tf one the other night with my best friend and now I've been Re-Mental Illnessed, here's some Rescue Bot Smokescreen Rot I rotated while driving home :]

I think I've finally hammered out some more details of Inside Job and this is what I came up with:

like canon it starts with the Omega Keys. Specifically when Bulkhead gets attacked and knocked unconscious when looking for one

And against direct orders, Smokescreen leaves the base to go get him

there were a bunch of reasons why he did what he did. A desire to prove his capability as an EMT. He wants to be a field medic like Ratchet is, he wants to be able to do more than just wait for them to come back injured when the more time that passes the more dangerous it could be. There was also the fear of losing anyone else, especially so soon after he befriended Bulkhead. It's barely been a few days since they started getting along, and the loss of the entire Rescue Bot Force is still raw

so he goes, and finds Bulkhead unconscious and alone in the woods, with the only injury being some scratches and a blow to the back of the helm. Smokescreen doesn't have a scratch on him as they hobble back to base

it doesn't stop Ratchet's anger

Now, don't get me wrong, Ratchet is angry because he was scared. Smokescreen could've been in very real danger. He didn't know what awaited him on the other side of that portal. For all they knew, the Decepticon soldiers could've still been there, and they could've lost the last Rescue Bot in existence

but unfortunately, he says all this when still angry

and Smokescreen, as thick as his skin is from experiencing years of discrimination, is genuinely hurt by it. This isn't just a fellow medic or instructor yelling at him, this is his idol berating him for what he thought was the right thing to do

this is his idol unknowingly repeating the words that followed him all throughout his training and that he sought to prove wrong, and he has no idea how to respond

so he runs. He drives as fast and far away as he can, shuts off his comm because he just. Can't right now. He can't interact with them right now because frankly he doesn't trust himself to speak and not say something he would regret to his dying days

and unknowingly this puts him right in the Decepticon's claws

some aspects of his capture stay the same. He wakes up in the medbay strapped to a table, the Omega Key is extracted, and he is placed under the cortical psychic patch

but the differences happen in the details

His restraints are barely more than a pair of manacles that he could've probably figured out how to escape if given enough time. The Omega Key was removed before he even woke up, the incisions of surgery fresh on his frame but the work is well done with obvious care. With the patch, the mental prodding and information gathering is... oddly gentle and quick, doing barely more than verifying what the Keys are and Smokescreen's identity as a Rescue Bot before retreating

Smokescreen is not a warrior after all. He is a bot thought to be long since extinct who quite literally dropped out of the sky at their feet without warning. He may have loyalty to the Autobots but... he's not fighting this war. Not really. He's just been doing what Rescue Bots do: helping those who need it.

The "cell" he's kept in, if it can even be called that, was an old now-dead officer's quarters. The door is locked and there are guards stationed inside watching him at all hours, but they are not cruel. He gets a healthy amount of rations regularly, and has even been given a data terminal to keep himself entertained (of course, no before Soundwave had thoroughly firewalled and restricted anything that could be used against them)

the most stressful part of his capture is when Megatron comes to visit. Every day without fail, he will come check in on how Smokescreen is doing. He will ask how he's doing and they talk. About Cybertron, about the war, about how accepting the Rescue Bots were, allowing any Cybertronian regardless of caste to join, how much of a tragedy it was for them to have been wiped out.

Smokescreen is not blind to how he attempts to sow seeds of doubt into the Autobots into him. About how cruel it was for them to keep him confined to the base, how cruel Trion was for implanting a relic without his knowledge, questions if Smokescreen truly wanted to help them or if that's just what they've pressured him into doing with false promises that crumble like glass

but instead of refuting him... Smokescreen decides to play along

after all, Megatron obviously sees him as a poor, innocent, helpless bot who could be swayed by some sweet words and a cage advertised as protection

and that facade would make it all the easier to escape when the time came :)

[kay9leo]

WIP Tag Game

Rules: Share a snippet from whatever you’re currently working on, and then tag 5 people.

@myokk tagged me and seeing how I needed something to get me back into the writing world again after a hiatus, this seems like a good way to get back in 🤗

So while not a "true" WIP, it's an idea stuck in my head since in my original WIP (written and hidden in my computer files) of where Iñaki Martinez Cariaga (or MC) is used, I have Hogwarts Legacy take place in the late 2000s...but what if Iñaki's Ancient magic takes her back in time...to the year 1890? As a play on the name of a title of a famous Mark Twain book, I present a small snidget of an idea that's been flying circles in my head:

A New York Yankee in Hogwarts' Courtyard, 1890

Iñaki walked around Hogsmeade, trying to reconcile the past with the future wizarding village that she remembered before she was sent back in time over more than a hundred years ago.

Hogsmeade was still Hogsmeade with its quint shops, townhouses and stone ruins nearby its town entrance, but it was also different from how she remembered back in 2008.

For one, the MCC or the Muggleborn Cultural Center hasn't been made yet, a place where all muggleborns would go to get a taste of home away from home (even though it wasn't truly a taste of home for her, with her home being an ocean away in New York). Two, the Shrieking Shack building didn't exist yet and three, there was no Tim Howards Coffee Shops yet - the only American magical coffee shop chain that somehow made it across the pond.

If you think about it, I might be able to run into Tim Howards when he's still a baby in this time period. He doesn't become a famous Quidditch player until the 1920s. Iñaki frowned at that thought.

"So, what do you think? Is Hogsmeade up to your standing Yank?"

Iñaki blinked out of her thoughts and looked over to her right to see a brown haired boy, Sebastian Sallow giving her a confident smile despite the nervous look in his eyes. He was currently giving her the grand tour of the place. To her surprise, Sebastian wasn't the cocky boy he made himself out to be before the duel that he lost in DADA class. The entire walk, Sebastian was friendly, jolly and curious about her homelife back in America, never once meeting a Yankee. Soon that became her nickname when he saw how it made her smile as he asked questions to get to know about her a bit more.

It was hard to be tight lipped about her homeland. Especially as far as he and everyone but Professor Fig knew, she was just another girl from their era and out of her element because she was the new kid in a new country and NOT being stuck in the wrong time period. She had to be careful about what she said, to reveal little about the future as possible like Professor Fig and all those time traveling books and movies taught her before.

While she ran into some more recognizable names - Weasleys were a dime a dozens, Prewett was an extinct family name in her time period with their remaining line married into one of the Weasleys' family branches and Gaunt was the original family name of the founder of Ilvermorny- there were a few she didn't recognized.

Onai was one. So was Sweeting. And then there was Sallow.

Sebastian Sallow was a name that rang a small bell in her head, but she couldn't remember for what reason it was for as she smiled at its owner with a light smile as she pulled up a half lie.

"I think it's cute, like it's from a storybook. It reminds me of another wizarding village I visited in the past at home..." Or was it future? It didn't matter, it's in my past now... Iñaki thought with a small painful smile as she looked over the smaller village in this era.

"You really miss home, don't you Iñaki?" Sebastian said as he placed his hand on her shoulder. Iñaki looked up to him with a tight smile, fighting back tears that suddenly appeared in her eyes.

"Who me?" Iñaki chuckled, waving her hand off playfully as if she could physically fight off the emotional pains that came every time she thought about the new country she found herself in due to her dad's new job, the time period that she didn't belong to or the possible reality she might be stuck here for good and might never see her parents, family, friends or even her neighbor's pet dog ever again.

Heck, she might be in the history books of another country and her loved ones would never know what happened to her.

And if she let one tear escape, the whole dam would break and she wasn't certain if she would survive the floods of her emotional pain since she woke up in 1890 after accidentally tampering with a magical place she thought nothing of. It wasn't like it was a time turner. Just a bunch of standing stones that reminded her of Stonehenge that stood in up in a forest nearby Feldcroft that called to her for some reason when she was flying around, trying to free up her mind from the thoughts of being homesick.

She was really far from home this time around.

"Yes you. You seem to keep your distance from everyone you know? We don't bite." Sebastian smiled at her. "Take it from someone that had to move before, you'll find yourself fitting in sooner than later. Natty practically befriend you -"

True...Iñaki thought.

" -Ominis seems relaxed and happy to be around you since you met him your first night-"

It probably helps that my first thought of his surname that I told him was that one of his ancestors rejected her family's prejudicial pureblood beliefs and founded Ilvermorny and not of his infamous descendent that is Tim Riddler...or what ever his name was.

" -in the Slytherin Common Room-"

I was a Gryffindor in my time period.

"-and I do need a dueling partner in Crossed Wands." Sebastian winked at her. "Yeah." Her voice croaked. That's what it seemed it was good at doing since she moved to London for her Dad's work. "I-" She cleared her throat with a smile. "-I DO like dueling."

Dueling made it easy to forget, to not remember that she was no longer home. That there was no DeLorean or ruby heels she can tap together three times to bring her back to her time period, to her world.

It wasn't until the Troll fight she had with Sebastian that she thought, maybe she didn't need a time traveling car or magical red heels to go home. Not when she felt that same magical force that brought her to this time period flow out of her when she defeated -no vanquished- the troll.

If Ancient Magic brought me back to the past, I'm going to find a way to use it to get back to my own time with no problem. Iñaki thought with a smug smile as she helped repair the town back, unaware of the only flaw in her plan as Sebastian Sallow gathered her for a quick drink at the Three Broomsticks on him.

And never once did she notice the awe in his eyes as he looked at her or the growing heart he wore on his sleeve for her the longer she remained stuck in the past. She would have noticed it if she looked back, but the only flaw in that was this:

Iñaki was too busy looking forward to finally go back home, back to the future where she belonged.

No Pressure Tags: @theladyofshalott1989 @ps-cactus and whoever sees this and is interested in writing as well/needs a small push to return to the writing world 😁

Thank you @myokk for tagging me and helping me to slowly return to the writing world for a bit after the hiatus I took💖🥰💖

[friendly-neighborhood-furry]

sometimes the state of the world makes me want to go outside and scream as loud as i can for help. sometimes it makes me want to crawl deep into a hole and never come back out again. sometimes it makes me want to fall to my knees and sob uncontrollably. sometimes it seems so hopeless that i cant see any better alternative other than just disappearing.

so much evil and destruction and suffering-- and for what?

what is it all for?

for the latest popular billionare to take a 13 minute flight? for the newest remake of a movie that changed my life to get turned into mindless sludge? for a never-before-seen species of animal to be discovered, then pronounced extinct the very next week? for millions of people to go broke for having cancer?

i tell my mother that i wont be able to afford a house. she says "no, you will." i tell my counselor that my government wants to kill me. she says "that's not true." i tell my teachers i don't see a point in doing well in school because i wont be able to get a job anyway, even if i have a college degree. they tell me "no, you'll get a job. school is still important." i email my senators begging them to stop funding the genocide in Palestine. i get a copy-pasted email back with a history lesson about why that wont happen. one million people died from COVID last Christmas and i'm the only one at my school still wearing a mask. my future as an artist was ripped from my hands in less than two years and pretty soon i wont be able to share anything about my art at all. i'm half mexican, but everybody says i'm "too white" to be a "real mexican". its been four years and i'm nowhere closer to understanding my gender identity than i was at the start. tumblr has been my only safe space for three years and now that KOSA might pass this week, where will i go?

and all the while, through all of this conflict-- people are still falling in love for the first time and rescuing kittens off the street and watching their children take their first steps and getting married and making fun little indie games and building elaborate cosplays of their favorite character and making the most heart-touchingly beautiful pieces of art you've ever seen and meeting lifelong friends and cooking amazingly delicious food and playing children's games and weaving baskets from pine needles and taking care of livestock and collecting little knick-knacks and having the best day of their lives and writing their first line of code and learning to play instruments and hatching baby birds and posting a 100K word thesis about a show they really like and uploading song covers for 19 people on Youtube to listen to and pushing the boundaries of what science can accomplish and discussing moral philosophies in the comment section of a Reddit post and feeling truly seen in the eyes of another human being for the first time in their lives and growing old surrounded by the people they love.

the future is uncertain, but the world will go on. the winds will still blow and the tides will still flow. people will continue to find joy in this hell and fight for it with everything they have.

so don't give up.

"don't give up," i tell myself.

"don't give up," i tell you.

"don't give up," i scream into the sky.

there is always something to keep going for. if you cannot find it in yourself, find it in others. find it in the people in your life and the people you see online. find it in the good of humanity you know to exist.

find it. keep fighting. don't give up.

[not-a-space-alien]

Desperate Daybreak Chapter 8

In this chapter:

Warnings: dehumanization, unexpected erections and mention of fetishes I guess? Very tame adult content

MMSS masterpost

DD masterpost

On AO3

***

Snowball was remarkably pliant for whatever Valen wanted to do with her, but apparently the harness was where she drew the line.  Valen had strapped it on her, and she'd immediately flopped over and refused to move.

“Come on, Snowball.  Don't you want to go outside?”  Valen tugged on the leash, to absolutely no effect.  The cat's tail thumped agitatedly.

“Just let her outside unsupervised,” Ari insisted.  “Everyone does it.  It's fine.”

“No,” Valen said stubbornly.  “Do you have any idea how many bird species alone have gone extinct from free roaming domestic cats?”  He resolutely pulled the harness once more.  Snowball simply let herself be dragged along.  “Come on, you'll like this so much more than being toted around in a carrier.  You have the temperament, I know you do.”

Tessie marched in.  “We have a problem.”  She slapped a newspaper down.  The headline said NATIONAL BLOOD SHORTAGE FAULT OF KITHARA HEIRESS?

Snowball darted off as soon as Valen dropped the leash. He took the paper slowly, dread in his stomach.  “What?  There's a blood shortage already?  I released seven humans!  Ones that weren't even in the supply chain yet!”  His mental health had been steadily improving with the overhaul of the bedroom, but this threatened to set it back immediately.

“This is the stupid part,” Tessie said.  She sat down, looking defeated.  “Someone somewhere in the processing facilities blabbed that you'd given the order to stop new captures, and given your reputation, people were speculating some big changes for the worse are coming to the supply chain.  This led to speculation that a blood shortage was coming, which led to everyone panic-buying as much blood as they could get, which led to an actual supply shortage.”

“That is ridiculous.”  Valen snapped the paper open to find an article that had been written entirely about the word from a single worker at a processing facility, and the other 90% being complete speculation, questioning his fitness to run the blood harvest web, and a helping of plain meanness about his appearance.

Ari sighed and sat down on the floor next to Snowball.  “I hate to say it, but I get it.  These are just Joe Schmoe vampires, right?  They know no one is gonna take care of them.  Especially since it seems like the nobility doesn't really care what happens to them, usually.”

Valen tried to wrestle himself past his frustration to share Ari’s empathy and view the faceless mass of commoners making this problem as people and not an obstacle for him to overcome.  “Who wrote this article?  Can we go speak to them?  Maybe we can convince them everything is all right.”

Tessie shook her head.  “Lost cause.  They're clearly just agitating to sell papers.  We need to reach the people who will listen.”

“The commoners who are anxious about the food supply?”

“Yes.  We might be able to garner sympathy if we play it right.”

“Maybe we should release a statement?”

Tessie snapped her fingers.  “Great idea.  Maybe we should call the cable news.  No, the radio, more people listen to the radio, especially the older crowd.”

“Goodness,” Valen murmured, suddenly extremely nervous.

“I'll write something up,” Tessie said, and she dashed out of the room.

Valen sank to the floor and dragged Snowball onto his lap.  “Where is Edwin?  We should speak with him again.”

***

Did Priscus have a PR manager?  Had he needed one?  Valen’s head felt like a buzz of static as he struggled to figure out where to go from here.

Of course his actions were going to have unintended consequences.  He was operating on such a huge scale that he had to take thousands of people’s disparate opinions into account.

He hated it.  He wished the whole situation could just be in a beaker that he could dispassionately watch as he added various chemicals to it.  Not this chaotic splash of mess and emotion where everyone was pulling him a million different directions.

They would have to get something up and running to make up for the loss of new captures contributing to the blood supply a lot sooner than anticipated.  The thought of actually having anyone else drinking his artificial blood made him nervous, as did the thought of having to figure out how to try and import more ethical blood, but those were the only two solutions he could think of.

He tried to not take it out on Edwin again, but he knew it was going to be hard.  Good thing Tessie was here again, and of course Lex and Ari. They always grounded him.

Edwin came in and gave a graceful bow.  “I came as soon as I could, Mistress.”

“I told you to call me Valen,” he snapped.

Tessie held out a hand, clearly not optimistic that this was how he was starting out.  Valen forced himself to take a deep breath and settle back into the couch.

Edwin’s face darkened.  “Forgive me, Valen.  I’m used to certain measures of respect.  I apologize.  The fault is mine entirely.”

Valen’s fingers drummed rapid-fire on the armrest of the loveseat.  “I’m sure you saw the headline.”

Edwin remained standing woodenly in the center of the room.  “Yes, Valen.”

“You wouldn’t happen to know who gave the Post that interview?”

Edwin bowed once again.  “No, Valen.  It was not me, nor was it anyone I know of.”

“It had to be someone.”

“Respectfully, Valen, it could have been anyone.  The workers were all given the order to stop new captures.  It is hardly a secret.”

Edwin was completely correct, but Valen was pissed off at him anyway.  “I suppose.”

Edwin dipped his head.  “I would never say such disrespectful things about your appearance and demeanor either, Valen.  I think you are only lovelier each time I see you.  I did not bring my thrall, since it seemed to displease you last time.  I am here to assist you in whatever way you see fit.”

“You’re pathetic, you know that?” Valen fumed.  “You’re a small, slimy little man who will do whatever it takes to get what he wants.  You have no real values or guiding principles.  You’re impotent and weak.  You think you can be the one to claim me?”

Tessie rapidly gave him the cut-it-out motion on her neck again, eyes wide.  Well, too late now.

“If you were truly so awed by me, you would understand that I’m a wild mare that can’t be tamed.”

“I do understand, Valen.”

That caught Valen off guard.  He stopped seeing red for long enough to look at Edwin again and noticed-

Oh.  Oh God.  Edwin had moved his hands to a polite position crossed in front of his crotch, clearly to hide the hint of an erection.  His face was also flush and embarrassed.

Oh.

Oh…

Edwin folded himself in half to bow.  “I’ll have my letter of resignation on your desk by this afternoon.”

“Wait.  I didn’t say you were fired.”

Edwin straightened up, still looking overwhelmed.  Lex and Ari snickered quietly.

“You clearly have some sort of perversion,” Valen said, and then immediately kicked himself.  Great direction for the conversation.  “Am I just a fantasy for you?”

“No, Valen.  I am your loyal servant.”  Well, that didn’t answer the question.  That was the fantasy.

Valen put his face in his hand, sighed, and waved his other hand.  “Whatever.  I’m hardly one to judge.”

Edwin shifted from foot to foot.

“You must understand I do have guiding principles, though.  I am trying to transition the blood harvest web into something that requires less cruelty.  Meaning we fill our daily orders without resorting to humans taken from their homes and their lives destroyed to be brought here.  If you don’t agree with that, you are not a good fit for this position any longer.”

“I understand, Valen.  I am amenable to that.”

“Really?  Because it’s a big change.”

“Yes.  I understand.”

“What about the proud Kithrara legacy or whatever?”

“I don’t care much for pride.  Only doing my job well.”

“Prove it.”

“How so?”

“Give me your thrall.”

Edwin’s face darkened.  “May I ask what for, Valen?”

“To prove you’ll do what I ask you to.”

Edwin uncomfortably fidgeted, then turned around and walked out, disappearing out the front door without a word.

Valen sighed.  “I figured.”

“Holy shit,” Lex said, going wild.  “Holy shit.  He’s-”

“I know.”

“He’s got-”

“I know.”

“He couldn’t get enough of you,” Ari said with a shiteating grin.  “Even when you were being condescending.  Especially when you were being condescending.”

“...I’m not unaware of the effect I can have on men, but I must admit this one in particular is new for me.”

Tessie hopped over onto the couch next to Valen.  “Okay, obviously he has that fetish, but it’s also possible he’s homosexual and finally found someone it’d be acceptable to marry.  Best of both worlds.”

“Oh.  Oh, yes.”  Valen sighed.  “Well, regardless, I figured he wouldn’t put his money where his mouth is when it came time to actually give up his comforts.  I’m sorry I made such a display of myself.  I’m on a rather short temper recently.”

“It’s understandable,” Tessie said.  “You were… huh?”

The clatter of Edwin’s shoes sounded in the entryway, and he appeared a moment later carrying his thrall.

Lex and Ari exploded into laughter, whereas Valen just looked bewildered.

“Do with my thrall as you please,” Edwin said, putting the hapless human down.

Valen just stared at him for a moment, before breaking down into his own repressed chuckles.  “Very well, Edwin.  If it pleases you to be in this position for me, you’re very good at your job.  You’ll be an asset to solve this problem, I’m sure.”

***

Edwin suggested calling the Northern Enclave to fill the blood shortage by importing more ethically harvested blood.  Apparently Priscus had called them previously to try and corner that market as well, saying it would be the last piece of their monopoly and cementing the family’s power once and for all.  None of which was suddenly important anymore as soon as the Northern Enclave told him to kick rocks, at which point ethical blood became only a silly passing fad.

It was a more direct in than Valen’s original plan, which had been to go to the ethical blood shop he frequented and ask for their supplier’s information, working his way up the chain until he found someone who could work with him.  So he dialed the number Edwin had given him, suddenly extremely nervous.  He looked to Tessie sitting across the table, like he was a nervous prey animal and she was his protection.  She smiled and gave him a thumbs-up.

The person on the other end of the phone answered in a foreign language.

“Ah…” Valen said.  “Um, I’m sorry.  My name is Valen Kithrara, and I-”

“Ah,” said the other person.  “One moment.”

After a minute of shuffling on the other end of the line, a new voice answered.  “Allo?”

“Hello!  Um, my name is Valen Kithrara, and-”

“Ah, the Western Enclave, ja?  The Kithrara family, we already talked, I told you.  Ve cannot export more blood.  I’m sorry, but we have an in-e-last-tic supply.  It’s all voluntarily given, which I’m sure you must not understand, but we are firm on our principles.”

“Yes!” Valen said, excitement bleeding through his voice.  “No, I understand completely!  I’m actually interested in, um, setting up something like that here.  Voluntary harvesting.”  Well, he certainly hadn’t called to talk about that, but if importing more blood was impossible that would be the next logical step, right?  But even Valen could see what a mountain that would be to climb.  But maybe they could make it work somehow?

“Ahhh!  So sorry for assuming.  You may call me Rolf.  I am the head of the Department of Sanguine Affairs and Human Relations under Supreme Gölz.”

“It’s such a pleasure to meet you!  You must understand where I’m from it’s very rare to meet someone like you.  Attitudes are very different over here.”

“Ja.  We are…aware.”

“Erm, yes.  Well.”  He’d completely lost his train of thought.  He briefly fantasized about just moving over there and leaving everything here to collapse into ruin.

“Unfortunately, Mr. Kithrara, the answer is still the same.  Ve can only export a set amount.  There is simply no way to guarantee an increase in süpply.”

Valen was too busy preening that his voice was deep enough to be gendered correctly over the phone to realize what bad news that was.  “Oh, is it?  That’s it?  Oh, it’s–Oh.  Um, yes, I suppose that makes sense.  Is there nothing you can do, though?  I’m trying to, ah, fill the supply shortage being caused by the fact that we’re not taking in any new human captures.”

“You’ve stopped captures?  That’s vonderful!  A win for human rights!”

“Yes!  Yes, it is.  It is, um, causing problems with the blood supply though.  So I have to figure out how to fix that.”

“Jes, jes.  Hmm.  Well I can offer my ássistance in how to set up the infrastructure to do voluntary harvest, perhaps.”

“Yes!  Yes, please.  How does it work for you?”

“We have walk-in processing facilities where humans come for monetary incentive.  It’s quite expensive, but it’s much more sustainable in the long-run.  And of course, facilitates a much healthier relationship between vampires and humans.”

“Are the facilities on the border, then?”

“Börder.  I had forgotten what it was like over there.”

“What?  Border?  You don’t have a border?”

“Goodness, no.”

“So humans and vampires just live, what, next to each other?  They’re neighbors?  Living in harmony?”

“Ah,” Rolf said, backpedaling.  “Vell, it is a noble goal.  We hope to achieve one day.”  Oh, so they’re still separated, they just don’t have a distinct territory border, then.  “Mr. Kithrara, if I may.  Ve can export the blood we can, but for something long-term, you may need to turn to your own neighbors.”

“Yes, um, yes, setting up something like that here would be.  Oh that would be just wonderful.”

“Do you have any human contacts?  Someone in a position to help you work towards this goal together?  Vampires cannot do it alone.  We need a trusting bond with humans to make it work.”

Valen’s heart sank, because yes, he did have a contact like that, and yes, it did make sense that Valen would need his help to do something like this.  “Yes.  I personally know the Director of Nocturnal Security on the human side of the border.  I suppose I can swallow my fear and call him.”

***

Check out a short clip of voice acting for this chapter! :) LINK

***

Taglist

@tomato-whump @dragonfireridge @taterswhump @whump-cravings

@scoundrelwithboba @pigeonwhumps @whumpsday @whumpy-writings @fuzzydarkpebble

@melodicnommer @thecyrulik @snake462 @gt-daboss @appelsiinilight

@star-rott @mottinthemainpot @corvidat @melancholy-in-the-morning @whumplr-reader

@honeycollectswhump @dragonqueenslayer6 @whumpycries @starfields08000 @scumashling

@demetercabingreen-thumb

[mandos-mind-trick]

Instinct - Part 12

Summary: Omegas were rare. Some even thought them extinct. So when Boba contacts Din saying he has a gift Din can’t refuse, the last thing he expects to find is an omega in need of an alpha. Din has to make the hard decision, but what else was he really doing anyways? But naturally, there’s more to this omega than meets the eye.

Pairing: Din Djarin x reader

Warnings: NSFW, smut, fluff, A/B/O, brief mention of injuries, unplanned pregnancy, brief discussion of abortion (more implied than an actual discussion), so much softness omg

A/N: It's hard to believe this story is over. It's been fun writing it and I'm kind of sad that it's over. I wound up going a different direction with the story than I originally planned. I'm a little bummed that I didn't go with the original idea but it would have been more complex and taken a lot longer to get to inevitably the same ending. I think I'm just ready to finish this one up and let it lie with this ending.

Thank you to all of my readers, I'm so grateful that all of you took the time to read and enjoy this story. Here's to whatever comes next!

< Previous | MASTERLIST | OC Version

You stare out at the flickering blue of hyperspace. You’re tired. Your heat has taken its toll on you. You’re still achy, your inner thighs raw from Din’s stubble. You had left not long after your heat ended, Din getting a comm message from Karga about the location of some of the targets, and the bounty on their heads. 

Din wanted to get things taken care of before they disappeared again, or someone else found them. He had packed things up, hauling their belongings and you, still half asleep onto the Crest before leaving the planet. 

Three of them. One more and you’d be on their way to Navarro. 

It wasn’t like you necessarily needed the credits. Boba could easily send more, and would if you asked. Din wanted to do things his way, though. The dumb alpha instinct to prove their worth, to prove they could properly care for a mate, for a family. 

You curl up in your seat, tucking your knees to your chest. Din had proven himself time and time again to more, more than he needed to. You won’t change his mind, though. He was determined to see this through. You’re saving others from what you went through. That’s what you tell yourself. It’s not all about revenge. It would be impossible, now that you know the truth. Now that you remember. 

A shiver runs down your spine as memories run through your head. What happened to the others? Had any of them escaped? Or had you been lucky to survive, to be taken by the pirates and saved from a worse fate? 

You don't want to think about it anymore. You screw your eyes shut, focusing on the scent of your alpha heavy in the air, letting it relax you. He smells musky, both of you still recovering from your heat. From what you can remember, it had been an intense one. More intense than your last. Perhaps the suppressants were finally completely out of your system. Or maybe it was just your body’s reaction to going years without a heat. 

You can still feel the lingering effects of it. Your brain feels fuzzy still, your body warm. Everything is louder, stronger, more amplified. You want to crawl into Din’s lap and sink right under his armor into his skin. 

If only that were possible. 

***

You wake when the ship lands. It startles you for a moment before you’re able to get your bearings. You rub your eyes, Din running a hand over your head before leaving the cockpit. You let your brain wake up more before you follow him, dropping into the hull. 

“Stay with the ship.” Din says, loading the last of his weapons. “This won’t take long.” 

You grab his arm before he can walk away, turning him to face you. You reach up, lifting his helmet just enough to reveal his mouth. You stand on your toes, pressing your lips to his. His hands grab your waist, holding you steady as you kiss him. Your brain feels fuzzy, still fighting the lingering buzz from your heat. 

“As soon as I get this done,” Din murmurs against your lips, squeezing your sides. “I’ll come back and help you.” 

You let out a quiet whine, but relent, letting him go. You watch him leave the ship, the ramp closing behind him. You crawl into the nest, burrowing yourself in Din’s scent to wait for his return. 

It only takes two hours before the ramp is lowering once more, Din leading someone into the ship. You lay still, buried beneath the blankets out of sight. You hear the familiar rush of air from the carbonite chamber before footsteps approach. You don't move, don't reveal yourself, but you don't have to. The blankets shift slightly, a gloved hand reaching beneath them. You lean into his touch, keening quietly. Your underwear is soaked through, your mind racing nonstop in his absence. 

The cool air of the Crest hits your skin as the blankets are tossed off, your body rolling to present for him. His hand presses into your back, holding you flat against the floor. You buck your hips, desperate for any sort of friction, any contact to alleviate the need rushing through you.

Gloved hands slip under the waistband of your pants and underwear, tugging both down just far enough. Din inhales deeply, groaning at the scent of you heavy in the air. 

“Could smell you outside the ship.” He growls, pressing his body flat against yours. 

You keens, bucking your hips up to grind against his hard length. He reaches between them, guiding his cock into your slick folds. You gasp at the stretch, back arching to take him deeper. 

“Stinking up the ship with that needy pussy.” He growls, a hand tangling in your hair to tilt your head and reveal your neck. “All for me, huh?” 

“Yes, alpha!” You whine as he pulls back before slamming his hips against your ass. “Need you. Need you so bad.” 

He shushes you, lips tracing your neck. “I’ve got you, omega. Let your alpha take care of you.” 

You practically sob as he begins thrusting into you, his movements slow and deep. Your clit drags along the blanket under you, making you dizzy with pleasure. His lips close around your mark, fingers tangling with yours to hold you steady as he fucks you. You’re loud, keening and whining and moaning under him as he fucks you through your first orgasm. He doesn’t slow any, keeping his pace steady. 

“Alpha, alpha!” You chant his title like a prayer, moving your body with his. “Need your cum! Please!” 

He shushes you, shifting his hips just slightly to hit that spot inside you with every thrust. His teeth sink into your shoulder, your body shuddering violently under him as you cums a second time, soaking him and the blankets with your slick. 

He releases with a groan inside you, keeping his hold on your shoulder for a moment as he fills you with his cum. You let out little whines beneath him, your hips still jerking from the aftershocks of your orgasm. He releases your shoulder, running his tongue along the teeth marks indented in your skin. 

You go limp beneath him, his arms slipping under you to roll them to one side. He holds you against his chest, fingers tracing your skin as he continues to lap at your mark. He’s still buried inside you, half-hard in your pussy.

“I need to get us on our way to Nevarro.” He says, lips brushing your skin. 

You make a noise in protest, grabbing onto his wrists with surprising strength before he can get up. 

“I won’t be gone long.” He says, shifting his hips to pull out of you. “I’ll be back.” 

You make a disgruntled noise as he leaves the nest, mind working off of muscle memory to get the ship out of the atmosphere and into hyperspace. As soon as you’re headed towards Nevarro, he descends into the hull once more, crawling back into the nest with you. 

***

The warning alarm that the ship is about to drop out of hyperspace draws him from the nest. You shift in your sleep as he pulls himself from you, climbing back into the cockpit. He lands the ship, finding you sitting up in the nest when he gets back down to the hull. 

“We land already?” You ask, rubbing your eyes. 

“Just did.” He says, putting pieces of his armor back on. 

You get up, stepping into the fresher. “You’re lucky you have armor to hide behind.” 

“You look fine.” He says, slipping his blaster into the holster. 

“I most certainly do not.” You step back out. “If I go out there looking like this, people are gonna ask questions.” 

He eyes the bite mark on your shoulder, and the bruises across your collarbones and the sides of your neck. “You can always say it was a fight.” 

You give him a look. “Yeah, because people are gonna believe that. ‘You think this is bad, you should see the other guy.’” You mock, changing into clothes that offer better coverage. 

“You did quite a number on me.” He says. 

You shoot him a glare over your shoulder as you try to fix your hair so it doesn’t look like you’d fucked the entire trip. “Yeah, but no one’s gonna see it but me.” 

“Good.” He growls, his chest pressing against your back. 

You roll your eyes, smacking his arm with your brush. “Don’t we have things to do? People to see?” 

He rests his helmet against the side of your head for a moment before letting you go. He’s glad to see you're back to your normal self again, even if you are a bit of a pain in his ass. His hand brushes your side as you wait for the ramp to lower, feeling the blaster tucked into your pants. He smiles a bit behind his helmet. He never has to remind you. 

He takes your hand, leading you down the ramp. Karga and Cara are there already, waiting for you. 

“You never fail to impress me.” Karga says, greeting Din with a handshake. “I wasn’t expecting you so soon.” 

“It was an easy job.” Din says.

“Come on,” Karga says, clapping Din’s shoulder. “Let’s get them off-loaded then we can talk payment.” 

***

“How many have you found?” Cara asks as you sit around a table in the cantina. 

“Counting these three, ten.” Din answers. “Not nearly all of them, but things have gotten... complicated.” 

“They’re figuring it out.” Karga says. 

Din nods. “That, and...” 

“The Empire was involved.” You answer for him, not wanting to beat around the bush like Din was probably going to. You had no reason to lie, no reason to hide it. “They were the ones that picked us up trying to escape Mandalore.” 

“What would the Empire want with a bunch of Mandalorians?” Karga asks. 

“They wanted to study our kind.” You answer. “They wanted to know about our abilities. The heightened senses, increased strength, all of it. All beings are capable of waking it, but most have forgotten how. Mandalorians are one of the last groups that remember, and actively practice.” 

“This is getting into dangerous territory.” Cara warns. 

“I know.” Din says. “That’s why we came here after picking up the last three. We...have to decide what to do next.” 

“You can stay as long as you’d like.” Karga says. “I’ll put you up in a nice house on the outskirts, lots of privacy. My treat.” 

Din glances down at you, seeing the desire in your gaze. He’d be content staying in the ship, but he knows you miss a real roof over your head, a real bed. Your last vacation had really taken its toll on your omega instincts. He might never get you to leave if you stay. 

His shoulders slump a bit. “Fine.” 

***

What Din was hoping would only be a few days turns into a couple weeks. You had quickly fallen in love with Nevarro and its newly refreshed culture. You had yet to talk about your next move, as Karga was insistent on spoiling you and showing you all the best that Nevarro now had to offer. You were eating it up, and Din didn’t have it in him to stop you. 

After a few days, you began to slow down a bit. It was really what prompted him to stay longer than those few days. You were acting strangely, stranger than normal. You were more agitated, tossing and turning at night and then sleeping late into the day. He wondered if it was some lasting effect from your heat, or perhaps the underlying stress had caused your heat to start back up. 

You weren't showing any other normal symptoms of a heat, though. 

In fact, you were acting the opposite. 

Besides your grumpy attitude, he had been forced to sleep on the floor a couple times after you’d nearly pushed him off the bed. You’ve dodged his touches a few times, as well as shrugged off a few others. Your instincts were going haywire, and it was putting him on edge. 

His natural first thought was that someone had slipped something into some food or a drink. You weren't acting like you had been slipped a suppressant. Spice didn’t have much of an effect on your kind either, and he can’t think of anything else that could be causing such a reaction. It could just be delayed stress, or your body fighting some sort of illness. He considered contacting Boba, but he probably wouldn’t be able to offer up an explanation either. 

He should just load you up and take you back to Tatooine, but he’s worried a confined space might make you more agitated. The last thing he needs is an agitated omega in hyperspace. He could slip you something to help you sleep through the trip, but you’d be raging when you woke up again. 

He could always command you to. 

He doesn’t want to do that. It would be cruel. It would break the trust that had formed between them. He had told himself he’d only do it if he had no other choice, and this doesn't feel like the right situation. 

He won’t do that to you. 

He resorts to just asking you. 

He approaches you in the morning. You’re seated at the small table in the kitchen, your back to him. He keeps his distance, remembering the stories of how aggressive your omega is. He doesn't want to risk you getting hurt. 

He says your name, watching you from behind.. You let out a grunt in response. “Are you okay?” He asks. 

Your shoulders tense, hands closing into fists where they’re laying on the table. You're annoyed, the sharp scent filling the air. “Why?” 

Din shifts slightly on his feet. “You’ve been acting...different. Are you...feeling alright?” 

“Fine.” You snap. “I’m fine.” 

Din decides not to push it. You're not fine, but you're not in a place to answer either. 

***

You feel like you're’s going insane. You're tired, the same kind of tired you’d felt when you were on suppressants. You can’t sleep, though. Sleep evades you, leaving you tossing and turning until the early hours of the morning. You're on edge, every sound too loud, every smell too strong. 

And Din. His very presence is making your skin crawl. His scent, the quiet clank of his armor and shuffle of his flight suit is driving you up the wall. He’s been clingy lately, and you know it’s because of the way you’re acting, but the last thing you want is him close. You want space. You want to run off into the lava fields and just sit in silence for hours and breathe. 

You can’t, though. Din would be after you in an instant. 

Not to mention, you've started to feel sick. Certain smells have started to make you feel nauseous. If you lay a certain way too long you begin to feel it, the churning in your stomach. You refuse to be sick. It would only worry Din more, which would only make you more agitated. 

You hate it. 

So, you decide to visit the medical center. 

You slip out at night, after Din is fast asleep. You felt bad for forcing him on the floor, but the idea of him being that close, touching you, his body heat, all of it made your skin crawl. 

You slip out the door without him knowing, taking the short walk into town. You're on edge, every little sound making you jump and swing your light stick around. The town is dimly lit but quiet as you creep along the streets. Something tickles at the back of your neck as you nears the medical center, footsteps that aren’t your own sounding behind you. 

You slow your pace, hand slipping under your poncho. You spin, drawing your blaster, your heart in your throat. You tense, staring wide eyed at Cara. 

“Sorry,” The woman lifts her hands in surrender. “Didn’t mean to startle you.” Her lips lift in a smile. “You’re a quick draw.” 

You lower your blaster, taking a breath. “I had a good teacher.” 

“Where are you sneaking off to in the middle of the night?” Cara asks, taking a couple steps closer. 

You slip the blaster back into your waistband. “The medical center.” You answer honestly. “I need to get a test done.” 

Cara stares at you for a moment before nodding. “Would you like some company?” 

You swallow nervously. You don't want to go to the medical center. You know you might react like you did the last time. Especially being so on edge, there’s no telling what might happen, and with Din absent...

“Sure.” You nod. Maybe having someone there will help. Of course, Cara might tell Din, but he’s going to find out eventually if it is true. 

***

Din sits up, wide awake. It’s still dark out, the room lit from the moon shining in the window. Something is wrong, something is off. He can sense it, but his waking brain can’t quite figure it out. He glances around the room, seeing no intruders. He can’t hear anything either. 

He glances to the bed, the sheets messy and thrown back. You’re missing.

His heart leaps into his throat, body moving before he can even think. He’s on his feet, stepping through the door into the rest of the house. The fresher is open, the kitchen empty, and the living room. Have you run away? Did someone sneak in and take you? It would be impossible. 

You've gotten past him before. 

He slams his finger on the button to open the door, stepping out into the night. He quickly scans his gaze across the front of the house, the tension leaving his body almost instantly. 

You’re sitting in a chair in front of the house, knees pulled to your chest. The lamp is turned on, on the table next to you. You're staring out into the darkness, not even noticing his presence. 

He moves slowly, approaching you cautiously. You could snap, you could jump at him. If he startles you, you might try to shoot him again. You don’t acknowledge him at all, not seeming to notice, even as he sits in the chair next to you. He casts his gaze out where you’re looking, but he doesn’t see anything. He’s scared to break the silence, but he has to know. You're acting strangely, even more strange than before and it’s scaring him. 

“Din?” You whisper, voice barely audible even in the silence. 

“Yes, cyare?” He says, looking at you. 

Your gaze is still off in the distance, your hands tugging at your pant legs. “I want to go back to Tatooine.”

“Okay.” He says. He had told you all you needed to do was ask and he would. He had meant it. Whenever you wanted to, he would end your hunt and take you back to Tatooine. 

“I don’t want to do this anymore.” You continue.

He doesn’t need an explanation or a reason, but he’s not going to interrupt you. He does want to know what’s been going on, and if this is his answer, then he’s going to let you talk. 

“Din...I’m pregnant.”

His hands close around the arms of the chair, his stomach dropping. This was unexpected. He hadn’t even taken that into consideration. You both have the implant, though he knew the regular implant was questionable in its ability to protect against the kind of virility omegas experienced while in heat. Omegas had their own ways to protect themselves during their heat, but that knowledge had been lost. 

It would explain your sudden change, the aggressiveness, your sleep habits. There was a big change happening within you, and your body was rapidly trying to adjust. He remembered once seeing a newly pregnant omega when he was a boy. She had nearly taken the head off of her alpha. 

“It’s nothing personal.” He had said. “Just her body and her mind doing what it needs to do.” 

She’d calmed as the baby developed, and her bond with her alpha had grown to the point they were rarely apart. Had things been the way they were supposed to, you would have been surrounded by omegas, both mated and unmated, to help care for you during your pregnancy, especially in the late stages. Birthing was a sacred omega space. Alphas were only allowed in if something went wrong. The omegas would have continued to care for you and the pup after birth, until you recovered. 

Things weren’t the way they were supposed to be, though. With fewer and fewer omegas, and fewer and fewer safe spaces for them, omegas relied on their alphas for help. There was nothing sacred anymore, no help that only other omegas could provide. 

“I’m scared.” You whisper, a tear sliding down your cheek. 

He slowly reaches over, giving you plenty of time to turn, to push him away again. You stay still, letting him pull your hand from where it’s tugging at your pants. He wraps his fingers around your hand, squeezing it gently. “You don’t have to.” 

Your head snaps to him, teary eyes wide. “What?” 

“You don’t have to do this. If you’re not ready, if you want to wait, to...to plan things before...it’s your choice.” 

You stare at him. “But...but what about you?” 

He traces your knuckles with his thumb. “You’re the one that has to go through this. If you don’t want to...if you’d rather wait...it’s your choice.” 

You look back down at your lap. “I...I don’t know.” You squeeze his hand. “I think having the baby will be the easy part.” 

He tilts his head as he stares at you. “Why’s that?” 

You turn your gaze back to him. “We have to tell Boba.” 

***

Your leg bounces nervously as you sit in the Crest. You’d left Nevarro a few hours ago with promises to keep them updated and visit every so often. You had debated staying there permanently, but deep down you know you want to be with your family. You’d already lost one family, you want to spend as much time as you can with your new one. 

You're also nervous about telling Boba. You had told him you were returning, but you hadn’t explained why. You hadn’t told him about the Empire, or their little accident that led to you remembering either. He’s probably thinking the worst, and you do feel just a little guilty about not telling him anything. 

“We’ll be landing soon.” Din says, the Crest beeping as it warns of their approach. “This is the right thing to do.” 

“I know.” You say, curling your fingers around the end of your poncho. “I don’t think we could do this alone.” 

“We shouldn’t have to.” He says, guiding the ship out of hyperspace and towards the red planet. “It’s our safest option.” 

You let out a long breath as Din flies the ship towards the palace. It feels good, being home after so long, after everything that happened. Tatooine is home now, the first place that’s felt like home since you lost Mandalore so long ago. 

Din takes your hand as the ramp lowers, squeezing it gently. Fennec is waiting for them, a smile tugging at her lips as you make their way down the ramp. 

“So you survived the trip.” She says to Din. 

“Barely.” You snort, wrapping your arms around Fennec in a hug. 

“We weren’t expecting you back so soon.” Fennec says, holding you tightly. 

“There’s been a change of plans.” Din says. 

“That’s not a bad thing.” She releases you, nodding towards the door. “Boba’s got a surprise waiting for you in the throne room.” 

You glance at Din before taking his hand, following Fennec into the palace. She leads you to the throne room, Boba’s voice floating up the stairs. You half expect him to be holding court, but you're surprised there’s no one there. At least not where you’d expect. 

A tiny green head turns as you enter the throne room, letting out a soft cooing sound. 

Din stiffens beside you, dropping your hand. “Grogu?” 

The small bundle leaps into the air, practically flying right into Din’s arms. You take half a step back, surprised at the sudden agility from the small creature. 

“It’s you.” Din breathes, staring down at Grogu. “What are you doing here?” 

“Arrived in an X-Wing.” Boba says, stepping down from the throne. “I thought we were getting a visit from the New Republic.” 

“How long has he been here?” Din asks, holding Grogu against his chest. 

“Two days.” Boba answers. “I was going to tell you, but then I got your message about returning here. Figured it would be a nice welcome home.” 

You step up to Boba, throwing your arms around his neck. He holds you tightly, rubbing your back as you press your face into his neck. You can smell it, the faint whiff of something that might have been, had he not been born as a clone.

“Hello, ad’ika.” He says, continuing to hold you as you cling to him. 

“I missed you.” You whisper, not realizing just how much you had missed him. 

“I know.” He says, gently prying you away. “But you’re here now.” He brushes the hair from your face, before letting you go. 

You turn back to Din, looking down at the green bundle in his arms. You knew about Grogu, at least who he was to Din and what had happened to him. Din had told you all about his adventures with the little green troublemaker who also happened to be a wizard of sorts. Or, at least that’s how Din had described him. 

Din introduces you, looking down at Grogu. 

He leaps from Din’s arms, and you instinctively grab onto him before you even realize it’s happened. “Oh my.” You say, settling him before looking down at him. He blinks up at you with huge brown eyes, tilting his head. “You are the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.” You practically squeal, slapping Din’s arm with your hand. “You didn’t tell me he was this cute!” You wrap your arms around Grogu, squeezing him against your chest. “I just wanna squeeze him!” You release him after a couple seconds, adjusting him in your arms so you're cradling him like a baby. “You, little cutie,” You tap his little nose. “Are never leaving us again.” You turn, giving Din a pointed look. 

“I think we have a lot to discuss.” Boba says, watching you with a suspicious look on his face. 

Din nods. “We do.” 

“Are you hungry?” Boba asks. 

Both you and Grogu look up at him. “Yes!” You answer before he’s even finished asking. 

“Of course you are. Shouldn’t have bothered asking.” Boba says, calling for the table and food to be brought into the throne room. 

***

Din can barely keep his eyes off of you as you sit and eat lunch. Grogu is happily seated in your lap, eating food off your plate. You are on your third plate, having cleared most of the food yourself. Din’s arm is around the back of your seat, his own plate empty. He’d eat later. 

Instead he tells Boba about your journey. He already knew some of it, thanks to your regular updates, but the last bit and the finer details he had missed out on. Din tells him most everything, keeping the more intimate bits out of the story. He tells him about your injury and the revelation about what had happened to the ship that never made it to Concordia. 

“So why the sudden decision to come home?” Boba asks, looking between you. 

You glance up at Din, staring into his visor for a moment. “I’m pregnant.” 

The room falls silent, Boba setting his fork down slowly. Din’s hand tightens into a fist where it rests across the back of your chair. Even Grogu is quietly watching, looking between everyone. 

“I thought you both had the implant.” Fennec says, breaking the tense silence. 

“We do.” Din says. “Well, we did.”  

“The efficiency of it is only theorized.” You say. “Omegas have a higher virility rate during heat cycles and the implant is designed for non-omegas. Depending on the virility rate during a certain heat, the implant can be rendered entirely ineffective. Omegas used to have ways to prevent pregnancy during heat cycles, but now that most of us are gone and Mandalore was destroyed, I’m not sure there’s anyone out there who still knows how to do it.” 

“This is what you want?” Boba asks, still staring between you. 

“We talked about it. A lot.” You say. 

“We both agreed that maybe it’s time for a career change.” Din finishes for you. 

“The offer still stands.” Boba says.

“Then I am more than happy to accept.” Din says. 

You pass Grogu to Din before standing up, moving to Boba’s side. You wrap your arms around his neck, kissing his cheek. “Thanks, Grandpa.” 

“Easy, ad’ika.” Boba warns, but there’s a smile on his face. 

***

Din steps out of the fresher, wearing nothing but a thin shirt and pants. You’re stretched out on the bed on your side, Grogu snuggled against your chest. He was already enamored with you, seeming to understand the new dynamic in the way that he understood a lot of things. Din had told him about you and your place in his life, and though Grogu hadn’t offered much in an agreement of understanding, Din knew he understood. 

Din approaches the bed slowly, your eyes cracking open. “Do you want me to sleep on the floor?” He asks. 

You shake your head, reaching out for him. 

He crawls onto the bed, settling himself on the other side of Grogu. He can hardly believe Grogu is back. He doesn’t really understand why or how, but he’s glad Grogu has returned. He had missed the little troublemaker. Of course, the prospect of raising two children now is a bit intimidating, he at least already knew what to expect from Grogu. 

You tangle a hand in his shirt, holding onto him. He stretches an arm above Grogu’s head, slipping it under your neck. You press your nose against his arm, inhaling his scent. “I’m happy.” You whisper, turning your face back to look at him. “I’m happy we got some of those nerf herders taken care of. I’m happy we decided to come back when we did. I’m happy you have Grogu back.” 

“We have our aliit back together.” He says, lowering his other hand to your stomach. There’s no real bump there yet, no sign of the tiny life that’s forming, but he knows. Somehow he can sense your child forming inside you. “And soon, we’ll have another member.”  

“I’ll try not to beat you up too much.” You say, lifting a hand to stroke his cheek. 

He smiles, kissing the palm of your hand. “From what I’ve heard about you, I’d be more concerned if you didn’t.” 

You smile, laughing quietly. “I love you.” 

He puts a hand over yours, pressing it against his cheek. He stares at you, at the way you seem to glow in the low light of the room. You're beautiful. He’s so lucky to have you, so lucky to have been given the chance at something most Mandalorians only dreamed of. He has his aliit, you’re together and you’re safe. That’s what really matters. 

He smiles, leaning over Grogu to kiss you softly. “I love you too.” 

Taglist:

@donttamethebeasts, @unicorntrooper, @spacecluster, @hugmedin, @hungrhay, @fic-for-readers, @jaydiann, @tonystank3, @lokigirlszendaya, @6oceansofmoons, @star-trekker-0013, @bobaprint

[srbachchan]

DAY 5748

Jalsa, Mumbai Nov 12/13, 2023 Sun/Mon 2:00 AM

Govardhan Pooja Monday, 13 November

last night Blog was a random state of the mind and body, with some of the most extended queries that had meaning and none at all ..

but we have the benefit of some of the dearest assets in our Ef brigade that possess the acumen of the highest iq's ..

may I present to all one such reaction to the somewhat thesis dissertation of coffee shot infested brain - mine !!

Good morning…

I'll respond in an order… 'cause the reverse might sound random…

Wise quiet of silence

Perhaps this is why sàdìsts prefer the company of spartans… so that they can get away with barbarous fun…

You see, spartans are accustomed to unfair insults… They do not react…

But, come once in a new moon, they do… and when they do, they demolish the facade with simple words and gestures…

In other words,

The quiet of the silence is indeed wise… but everything has a point of ignition… and when the wise are on fire, those rotten germs infecting humanity are scorched to ashes…

From eternity to eternity

अजो नित्यः शाश्वतोऽयं। - गीता

Unborn, forever, and imperishable…

Which is the only reasonable definition of being… one that subsumes continuity…

There's nothing in any measure of a being on a timeline… the suffix 'ing' does not permit that…

Seclusion, and replication elsewhere

The desolate is usually in the queue of extinction… its days are numbered… soon to be obsolete…

In stark contrast, replication is that link of a chain which assures continuum…

I'll give a true example,

There is a shikara and houseboat attendant at Dal… His name is Shafique…

(Don't worry… there are thousands of Shafiques there… I'm not revealing a unique identity…)

Shafique's father died when Shafique was about 12 years old… they were living far away, on the right bank of Jhelum, in a small and little known village…

The father had created a farm of about 5 acres which he was tilling till his death…

Upon the father's death, his mother had invited his uncle to help with the farming… lest the land goes waste…

The uncle had three sons… all were elder to Shafique… They would beat and harass him on the farm…

His uncle came to the house one day, and said to the mother, "I cannot control my kids… I'm afraid they might kill your son some day… I suggest you leave the village and go to Srinagar… I have a friend there who will find a living for you…"

Today, Shafique is around 40… married with teenage kids… And, he is determined to get back the farm, which his father had carved out of nothing…

In short,

Continuity may seem like āmour in the beginning… but it can have savage consequences…

Desolation and extinction follow…

Venus

All true, dear Sir…

However, do you know that Venus has a retrograde spin?

Which means, it rotates in the opposite direction… While Earth rotates anti-clockwise when viewed from the North Pole, Venus rotates clockwise…

Haha… kind of a magnetic couple, eh?

Crucible foetus

I sincerely hope it's not an unwanted child… that seems to be happening quite often these days…

If it survives the incubator, it dies every day of its life… The facade doesn't work…

OH NO YOU DIDN'T

Hehe… but I did… in my own way… is that prohibited?

REALLY… YOU SHALL NEVER KNOW

I care to know just enough to sing your song wherever I go… I hum your tune, I recite your words… I live your moments…

For that, I shall always kneel before God, and thank Him and thank you… 🙂

and the collision of the wishers with that Sunday fervour ..

Loved and cared for .. in its immense value ..🚩

Amitabh Bachchan

[chaoskirin]

Things About Owning a Parrot

I researched for intensely before bringing her home. The next day I was STILL overwhelmed. But suddenly I had this little dust bunny to take care of:

She BITES. She bites when she doesn't get her way. She bites when she's scared. She sometimes bites just to test boundaries.

I have been removing the newspaper every 3-5 days and replacing it. Last night I decided to scrub the tray. Now, she's a tiny bird, so her poops don't make it through the paper. I just wanted to do it. This is a glazed steel tray, and the area under where she eats (where she poops the most) is corroded. How much shit must have sat there (and for how long) to cause that? This poor girl was neglected, and she's still a sweetheart. :( I don't blame her former owner, because said owner was a child. But this is a plea to not purchase animals to teach a child responsibility. The animal will always suffer.

Similarly, she did not know how to play with toys. Since she currently spends most of her time in the cage hanging from the bars, it was clear she didn't know how to entertain herself, because no one ever taught her how. She is learning, with small toys which she chews when she's with me, and I've now caught her starting to explore and chew on her toys in the cage when she's on her own.

She WANTS to learn. It took her a while to learn how to learn, if that makes sense. She was never trained. But now she's ON FIRE. Once she realized that behaviors earned rewards, man, she DOES BEHAVIORS. She tries things to see what earns her treats. She can already differentiate between "touch target" and "touch toy." She knows "step up" and "step down." She knows when I say "no biting" that I'm unhappy with what she's doing. She's learning that chewing on my fingers hurts.

Preening her is an amazing bonding experience. She trusts me to remove the pin feather sheathes on her head and neck. Sometimes I mess up (because she's very tiny) and she gives me a quick "don't" look and we go back to it.

I know she was surrendered for screaming. The day I brought her home, she would scream every time she couldn't see me. She would scream for a solid hour, or longer. I knew how to train this out of her, but it involved intense patience and the willingness to be stuck in any given room in my house until she stopped. I've been stuck in my bedroom (OK), the bathroom (less OK) and in my garage (god dammit.) As soon as there's a few seconds of quiet, I come back. She had an extinction burst about a week in and I was literally stuck in my bedroom for almost two hours. When she's quiet and I come back, she gets praise and a handful of treats, which I always carry with me through the house. Now that she understands screaming won't get her what she wants, I'm teaching her how to ring a bell if she wants my attention. She's doing very well. She still screams when I leave, but only for a couple seconds. This is acceptable. I can't believe this natural action cost her a home.

I. LOVE. This creature. I can't even describe how much, or how proud of her I am, or how sometimes I want to cry thinking about how awesome she is, and how she's mine. When I'm home, I want her with me all the time. I'm sad when I have to put her to bed. I NEVER WANTED A PARROT. They are wild animals and tend to suffer in homes. I was so sure I'd fail at this. But she fucking chose me, and I'm so glad she did. I can't imagine life without her.

[ilovecoelacanths]

This is a story about a book that changed my life.

It's also about how amazing libraries and authors and people who care about sharing cool things with curious kids are. Also, fish (especially fish). It's kind of different than what I usually post but it's been bouncing around in my head basically since I started this blog so here you go, I hope you like it. This is the reason I love coelacanths so much, and why I think everyone should know about how amazing they are.

When I was little, I loved going to the library. My little brother and I would pick out way too many books and the librarians always had to come over to override the 30 book limit at the checkout stand (they pretty much knew us on sight and were ready to override it as soon as we started heading over to check out). After we finished getting our library books, our mom also let us look through the free pile that was in the foyer on the way out. It was mostly old library books that the librarians just needed to clean out, but there were a lot of books that people brought when they cleaned out their personal collections too (especially teachers, and there were a bunch of books with old school library stamps inside). The free pile didn't usually have a lot of things that interested me, but one day when I was poking through it I found a book called Fossil Fish Found Alive: Discovering the Coelacanth, by Sally M. Walker.

I loved it. I had never even heard of coelacanths before, but this book fascinated me. It told the story of an incredible animal, long thought to be extinct, that had somehow survived for millions of years! It was nothing like any fish I had ever learned about before. I already had a casual interest in marine biology that I can thank PBS Kids and Wild Kratts for (particularly their episode on sperm whales and giant squid, I loved that episode), but this book took it to a new level. I wanted to be a marine biologist so I could learn more about coelacanths.

Like a lot of things when you're 7, that was a phase. Unlike a lot of phases, this one I came back to. After taking a break from my dreams of being a marine biologist to experience the hell that is middle school, one day I pulled a book off my shelf. I hadn't read it in a while. When I picked it up again, I remembered how incredible this animal was, and how much it had inspired me when I was younger, and those thoughts of becoming a marine biologist started to return. I'm in college now studying marine science, and I brought the book with me to school, where it sits next to two other science books that have inspired me (My Friends the Wild Chimpanzees by Jane Goodall and The Sea Around Us by Rachel Carson).

Earlier this year, I was thinking about how much this one book had changed my life and I wondered if I could find Ms. Walker and thank her. I knew she had many other science books for younger audiences, and even another book about coelacanths, so I was sure she had a website of some kind, and I was right. So I found her contact page and wrote her an email explaining the impact her book had had on my life, and thanking her for it. And to my surprise, she responded! She was very kind and we sent a few emails back and forth. She gave me some excellent advice and even told me about some of the people she contacted while researching her book, including Marjorie Courtenay-Latimer herself, the person who rediscovered the coelacanth when it was thought to be extinct! I'll never forget how she took the time to respond to me and how encouraging she was.

But Ms. Walker isn't the only one I have to thank for pointing me toward the path I'm on right now. If I hadn't already loved reading, if I hadn't seen any show or video to make me interested in marine biology, if the library didn't have a pile of books for anyone to take home, if I had lost that book during one of our many moves as a kid, I don't know what I'd be doing right now. There were a lot of things that happened to make it so that I found this book, but I'm glad for every single one of them. They led to me learning about an incredible animal and changed the course of my life. And now, I love coelacanths.

[chronurgy]

Companion's Bhaalspawn Reveal Reactions

Gale: A Bhaalspawn? Gosh. I know what it is to have a closer connection than most with the gods. But with Bhaal... that's not a bond I'd like to be bound with. You should be careful. Very, very careful.

Halsin: You are a mortal child of Bhaal? Be careful with whom you share that fact - I hear many of your kind have met premature ends.

Shadowheart: I suppose that makes you quite remarkable... though not in a way I'd envy, perhaps. From what little I recall hearing of Bhaal's mortal children, not all succumbed to his influence. Perhaps you can still resist your nature... if you want to.

Wyll: Hells - it explains so much. Listen to me. I knew another like you - Gorion's Ward, one of Baldur’s Gate's great heroes. Bhaal's blood ran through their veins too. They burned away their own inner darkness with their own inner light. They chose courage, they chose honour - and so can you.

Lae'zel: I'm not surprised. You've become death incarnate. Mighty, yes. And all together unpredictable and intractable. One day, perhaps soon, Bhaal will demand your fealty. You'll either muster the strength to defy him - or you will succumb. I know how I'd choose.

Karlach: That's a heavy weight. I know you can carry it, but it's heavy all the same. You are my friend. And you get to choose your destiny. Choose well, all right? Please.

Astarion: The Urges are calling on you again, aren't they? I haven't seen you sleep through the night once in the past days. [PC: I had a vision: I found out I'm a Bhaalspawn.] I knew you had some nasty habits, but I didn't want to pry overmuch. But, bloody hells, a Bhaalspawn? Probably more Baldurian parents scare their children with stories of your kind than mine. I thought your kind was extinct. Goes to show, you should always check your facts. So... how are you feeling? Keen to reconnect with your family? Or ready to throw yourself in an oubliette? [PC: The pit, definitely the pit.] You know, though I don't look a day over a hundred, I was alive in Baldur’s Gate when the Bhaalspawn first arose. I was barely aware of it - locked in the kennels as a young spawn. Rather thrilling I get to watch the bloodshed first hand. I felt very unfashionable, missing out last time.

Jaheira has a cutscene

Minsc also has a reaction when you recruit him but I don't have a save available sadly

Minthara wasn't recruited in this run, so if anyone has her dialogue please add it!

[mikeyswayy]

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(UPDATED INTRO POST)

(𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴, 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨...)

DNI'S are literally only like MSI fans.. oh and if your homophobic, transphobic, racist. anything like that.. oh and if your possibly one of my family members

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I don't have a name, call me cunt or something I don't care

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MCR is my favorite band, I like fob too and I forgot but I love any of Frankie's bands too! And Gees solo music!!!!!

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My favorite movies are (these aren't in order btw) Donnie Darko, star Wars, life on the murder scene. (I like the Chucky movies too, I was raised on them but they're not my favorite)

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Favorite TV shows, the walking dead (all the spin-offs too) , umbrella academy, Chucky (I'm a big nerd for child's play and Chucky btw) / (I can't think of others right now but I think I have some more maybe..)

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Favorite comics, the walking dead, the true lives of the fabulous Killjoys, the true lives of the fabulous Killjoys: national anthem, umbrella academy (I have more but like I forget a lot so..)

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Favorite games, the walking dead telltale games (I have others that I'm not gonna name here bc I wanna say it somewhere else.. But you'll probably know soon enough)

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Favorite colors are red and black

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My favorite YouTubers are jake webber and Johnnie guilbert but I have a few more and they do pranks but like I don't think anyone that's here probably likes them so.. Well carry on.

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Favorite album is I brought you my bullets, you brought me your love

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Favorite songs are, my way home is through you, not that kind of girl, Emily, black dragon fighting society, all the angels and tomorrow's money

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𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗗𝗢𝗠 𝗙𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗦 :

I've always wanted to play bass

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I wanna make comics, draw and maybe write some.. :D

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I'm a minor, don't be a Creepazoid.. but i dont care if your over 18 :P

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Literally obsessed with Mikey way..

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I like sour candies, war heads I like a lot. Sour candy also isn't sour to me..

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I like vampires (𝘪 𝘢𝘮 𝘰𝘯𝘦) and that stuff, bats too I guess

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Blood is cool too

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I draw sometimes (𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘐'𝘮 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥, 𝘐 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴.. 𝘔𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦?)

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I edit sometimes..

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I'm awake all night listening to MCR, and all day almost too..

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Petekey.. ♡

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Frerard ♥︎

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My favorite soda is root beer

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I'm running out of things to say now.. Let's carry on..

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This is the end.. So.. Bye? I don't know.. Want the lyrics to the foundations of decay? There, it's down there ↓

See the man who stands upon the hill

He dreams of all the battles won

But fate had left its scars upon his face

With all the damage they had done

And so tired with age, he turns the page

Let the flesh submit itself to gravity

Let our bodies lay, mark our hearts with shame

Let our blood in vain, you find God in pain

Now, if your convictions were a passing phase

May your ashes feed the river in the morning rays

And as the vermin crawls, we lay in the foundations of decay

He was there the day the towers fell

And so he wandered down the road

And we would all build towers of our own

Only to watch the roots corrode

But it's much too late, you're in the race

So we'll press and press 'til you can't take it anymore

Let our bodies lay, mark our hearts with shame

Let our blood in vain, you find God in pain

And if, by his own hand, his spirit flies

Take his body as a relic to be canonized

Now, and so he gets to die a saint

But she will always be a whore

Against faith (cage all the animals)

Against all odds ('cause the message must be pure)

Against change (you can wander through the ruins)

We are free (but the poison is the cure)

You must fix your heart

And you must build an altar where it swells

When the storm, it gains and the sky, it rains

Let it flood, let it flood, let it wash away

And as you stumble through your last crusade

Will you welcome your extinction in the morning rays?

And as the swarm it calls, we lay in the foundations

Yes, it comforts me much more

Yes, it comforts me much more

To lay in the foundations of decay

Get up, coward

Now, so long and goodnight...

(I'll probably be adding more once I remember more shit, but for now Run, run, bunny, run)

(𝘈𝘴𝘬 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘧𝘧...)

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[hellfirexhoe]

Death of Me: Chapter 15 - A Very Special Meeting of the Hellfire Club

Chapter 15 | Series Masterlist

3,794 words

Warnings: 18+ content, minors DNI, pregnancy, childbirth, fluff.

October 31st 1986.

If you thought you were miserable during your first trimester, boy were you unprepared for going a week past your due date. 

You're fairly certain that raspberries may go extinct at the rate you're chugging cups of raspberry leaf tea. Not that you care. Stupid raspberries. 

Eddie had taken you on miles long meanders in the woods around Hawkins, trying to hold a conversation with you that wouldn't end in you frustrated. You appreciate the effort but still, stupid walks.

Your mother had said castor oil was a great way to get things moving. You didn't have time to find out before the oily substance on your tongue made you vomit. Stupid oil.

You woke up this morning particularly irritable, stomping around the house until Eddie finally dared to ask what was bothering you so. You'd shot him a death glare and then pointed at your stomach,

"He's supposed to be here. We were told the 23rd."

"I know sweetheart, but maybe he's just super cosy in there and isn't ready to leave yet. But we'll get to meet him soon." Eddie gives you a soft smile and you groan,

"Spare me that crap. I just want him off my bladder." You growl the last words as your son helpfully pushes down on your bladder as though to illustrate your point.

Eddie tries to give you a sympathetic smile but it doesn't win you over, you're uncomfortable and sore and you feel like you haven't slept in months. 

"You don't have to come with me tonight, I really don't mind if you want to stay home and get some rest, maybe a bubble bath."

"Two things," You hold up your fingers, "One, I can't drive myself to the hospital if your son decides he wants to make an appearance. Two, there is no way on God's green earth I'm going to be able to fit into that tub right now." You rummage through the cupboard, locating your coffee mug with ease. Eddie learned the hard way that your caffeine intake was not his to police while you were sleeping so poorly. A tiny foot in the ribs doesn't exactly send you off into a dreamless sleep.

Eddie comes over to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, the other rubbing your stomach soothingly. 

"Ugh you smell like water." You grumble and wrinkle your nose while Eddie stands baffled,

"What the hell does water smell like?"

"I don't know but you just do!" Eddie bites back a chuckle, knowing you'll bite his head off if he does. 

"Okay I'm going to go shower and see if that somehow makes me smell less like water. Do you want me to help you with your costume when I'm done?"

"You're going to have to squeeze me into it, I feel like I've swallowed a planet."

The zip glides smoothly up your back as Eddie finishes helping you get dressed, mercifully you’d picked a much larger size, meaning Eddie did not have to “grease you up” as he kindly offered. You sit on the edge of the bed and he kneels down to help you slip your feet into your shoes, a small frown crossing his face, placing the shoes back down beside him and switching to rubbing your feet, a quiet tut leaving his mouth,

"You're been on your feet too much again." He gently chides, it's coming from a place of concern, not control. 

"Well how else am I going to walk this baby out?" You lean back onto a pillow you hastily shove behind you, sighing as Eddie’s hands work over your sore feet, relaxing the muscles and helping the painful swelling on your feet reduce. You shut your eyes and let another long sigh go,

“Better?” 

“Don’t be smug about it.” Eddie laughs and you smile, “Alright if you don’t stop now I’m going to have to insist you cancel tonight and carry on.” 

“Sorry guys, no game tonight. Fiancee’s feet hurt so I’m spending the evening taking care of her? Yeah what an asshole I’d be.” Eddie places your shoes onto your feet gently and stands up, holding out a hand to help you up.

“Five more minutes.” You pout and Eddie lets his hand drop, shrugging,

“Fine but then you miss out on watching me stab myself in the eye multiple times.” Eddie ducks into the bathroom as he calls out to you. 

“It’s just not that difficult to do Eddie, how many times do I have to do your makeup for you?” You eventually manage to pull yourself off the bed and waddle into the bathroom watching as he immediately pulls his lower lid down,

“Absolutely not. Put the pencil down Munson.” You had explained so many times that doing that was going to cause premature aging around his eyes but he just doesn’t listen, insisting this was the only way he could put eyeliner on. You take the pencil from his hand and turn his head to yours, rolling your eyes at the satisfied grin on his face. To his credit, Eddie keeps still as he squats down so you can reach his eyes with ease, and is able to fight the instinct to back away from the invading black pencil rimming his eyes.

“Okay, there. Not difficult.” You step back and let Eddie admire his lined eyes in the mirror, grinning at your handiwork as he inspects it.

“Thank you sweetheart.” Eddie smooches the top of your head, “Now where are those fangs?” 

He rummages through the bag he’s haphazardly thrown onto the counter and produces a plastic pack of fangs.

“Eddie, those are going to shred your gums to pieces, what happened to the caps I found?”

“The caps were cool, but these glow in the dark.” Eddie switches the light off as he speaks and produces another pack of faintly green teeth and offers them to you.

“Nope, I’m sticking with my caps, have fun wrecking your gums though.” 

“Your losh.” Eddie struggles with the plastic encasing his teeth, but you can see he’s grinning in the dark thanks to the glow of the teeth.

You switch the light back on and gently bump him aside so you can better see the mirror for placing the fang caps over your teeth. The putty tastes vile but secures them comfortably and means you can still talk without sounding insane. You spot Eddie rummaging in the bag once more and he produces a frankly ridiculous amount of fake blood.

“I thought we were both going as vampires? You going as Carrie or something?” Eddie laughs as you watch him with a raised eyebrow,

“I got a good deal.”

“I’d hope so, that jug is getting passed down to our grandkids.” 

Eddie dips a q-tip into the jug and dabs two marks on your neck, dragging the soaked cotton along your skin to emulate a trickle of blood. You shudder at the sticky sensation but in the mirror you have to admit it looks realistic.

“Okay now do me.” 

“Eddie… we have plans.” You joke, it takes him a split second to grasp your meaning but he does,

“I meant the fake blood, idiot.” Eddie teases as he presents you with a q tip and tilts his neck for you.

“What if I just draw a dick on your neck right now?” 

“You’re a menace. I’m trusting you to behave.” 

You’re the first to the Wheeler’s house, aside from the Wheeler’s of course. Nancy answers the door, dressed as a witch, complete with pointy hat and broomstick. As you head into the basement you see Mike, with an alarming amount of gel through his hair, slicking it back. You tilt your head on the side unable to place the costume inspiration, he notices your stare,

“It will make sense when El gets here.” 

“You’re gonna die when you realise.” Nancy laughs as she moves more chairs around the table and then beckons you upstairs with her. “No baby yet then?” 

“Shit, we left him at home.” You deadpan and then laugh,

“Sorry, stupid question huh?” 

“It’s okay, but if he doesn’t come soon I am sending him to a bad school.” 

A doorbell interrupts you and you see a sliver of orange and white in the gap between Nancy and the door, Nancy is nearly on the floor with giggles and steps aside to allow Dustin in, Dustin who is wearing a gigantic grin, and a traffic cone costume.

“Points for originality.” You manage between laughs. He tries to bow and nearly takes Eddie out with the tip of the cone on his head. 

“Shit Henderson, you were right. I’d never have guessed.”��

“Thank you, thank you.” Dustin holds out his hand and Eddie places a bill into the hand, shaking his head and laughing. 

Eleven arrives alongside Will and Jonathon, and immediately you twig the costume as Mike goes in to hug her,

“Oh my god you guys are Danny and Sandy! That is beyond cute!” Dustin pretends to gag from behind their back but you can see he thinks the costume is cute too. Will and Jonathon have both dressed as wizards, Will’s costume is one that is well loved, you can see from the adjustments made to the costume to fit a growing body. Will immediately attaches himself to Eddie and is asking a million questions a minute about the campaign, and Eddie matches his energy immediately, gesturing with his hands in a manner that is bound to result in someone being accidentally hit. 

Robin is next to arrive, with her designated driver dressed in a blue boiler suit and raybans. 

“Maverick from Top Gun?” Steve nods, grinning, clearly thrilled with his costume. Robin’s is harder to place, a mustard yellow sweater and pale blue jeans.

“Any clues?” She shakes her head, looking like she might explode at any given minute into raucous laughter,

“She won’t even give me any clues. It’s driving me crazy! Like, I know this sweater from somewhere!”

“Robin!” Dustin hollers from across the room, “Nice Steve costume!” 

Robin collapses into laughter as Steve’s jaw drops, not sure whether to be offended or flattered.

“Is this why you were asking me about my hair care routine??”

Erica, Lucas and Max are dropped off by the basement door so that Max can be easily wheeled into the basement, Max is dressed as Freddie Krueger, with Lucas dressed as Nancy Thompson, complete with a beautifully styled wig. Erica has on a cowboy hat, with an apple mark on her cheek, and is wearing pale orange clothes, you have to ask Dustin who immediately twigs and compliments the cleverness of the costume. 

“She’s Applejack.”

“Apple who?”

“My Little Pony.” 

“Ooh, that is clever.” 

You notice the absence of the original Hellfire club, you know Eddie had invited them but it had been a terse call, two had moved away from Hawkins in the aftermath of the “earthquake” and weren’t thrilled about coming back and Gareth had politely declined as he apparently had a date, which Eddie wasn’t entirely sure he believed. You’d done your best not to eavesdrop but the phone was on the wall in the kitchen, and you were trying to make dinner, so it’s not entirely your fault that you’d overheard the conversations. Eddie had insisted it didn’t bother him that they were seemingly avoiding him, but eventually you’d pointed out that it’s okay if it did bother him, and you were always happy to listen if he wanted to talk about it, and that was enough for Eddie, to know he had a supportive partner, and friends who weren’t dodging his calls for a Halloween-themed D&D afternoon/evening.

Eddie starts the session and immediately is met with confused stares at his slurred speech. Eddie sighs heavily and spits out his vampire teeth and tries again to speak, this time everyone understanding. 

It’s about an hour in when you stand to pick up the dice Eddie is helpfully gesturing to, you feel a slight cramp in your belly, you brush it off. You’d been dealing with braxton hicks for the last 3 weeks and this did not feel any different to those, so you take a sip of water and grab a handful of pretzels when your turn is over, knowing these usually help to alleviate the symptoms. 

Eddie catches Mike gawking at your bump and puts his head in front of his face to intercept the gaze,

“She’s not going to explode, you know. Quit your staring.” Mike averts his gaze but you do catch him glancing a few times, and you’re fairly sure Eddie’s statement was right on the money because the boy is looking at you like he expects an Alien chestburster situation is going to happen any second.

Another hour passes and your snacking hasn’t stopped the discomfort, and as another cramp hits you curse under your breath and kick Eddie’s foot under the table, Eddie’s eyes flick to you and he notices the beads of sweat on your head,

“You okay?” He whispers, you shake your head and gesture for him to lean in closer, the second the phrase,

“I think I’m having contractions.” Leaves your lips he is on his feet, 

“Right, someone take a note of where we’re at, we’re gonna head to the hospital and go have us a baby.” Eddie grabs your hand and guides you out of the house without a moment’s hesitation.

Will shuts his eyes and closes Eddie’s notebooks without peeking, before Dustin or Mike think to hop up and have a rummage. 

“Eddie, they're going to tell us to go home and wait until my contractions are more frequent.” 

“That’s fine, but I want you to get checked out first.” Eddie’s knuckles are white on the steering wheel.

“We don’t even have my hospital bag in the van, we need to go home first. We can call my parents and Wayne too and let them know.” Eddie takes the next turn reluctantly, clearly not happy with the diversion back to your house but knowing you’re making sense.

You’re helped down from the van and as another contraction hits so does a wave of nausea and you proceed to vomit on Eddie’s shoes. Mercifully they’re not his usual white reeboks, they’re black so the staining isn’t visible, because that would probably make you vomit again.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine, I need new shoes anyway.” He shuffles out of them and dumps them into the trashcan as you head to the front door. You call your parents as Eddie hops up the stairs, taking about 4 at a time by the sound alone. He's coming back down the stairs just as you tell your parents what’s happening, a bag slung over one shoulder and trying to hop into a new shoe.

“You can call Wayne, I desperately need to sit down.” You struggle over to a chair as Eddie dials, phone pressed into his shoulder as he puts the other shoe on.

“Hey Wayne -”

You hear a small pop and feel fluid trickling down your leg, for a split second you wonder if you might have pissed yourself but then it dawns on you.

“SHIT BABY COMING GOTTA GO BYE.” Eddie manages to garble out before he slams the receiver down and all but fireman carries you out of the house.

Without the cushioning of liquid your contractions are suddenly infinitely worse, to the point that when you arrive at the hospital the first thing you say to a member of staff is,

“Drugs. Get me drugs.” 

You’re helped into a wheelchair and wheeled into an examination room where a midwife checks you over and confirms you’re in labour, to which you snarkily reply,

“I could have told you that!” Eddie mouths an apology to her and is waved off,

“If you think that’s the worst anyone has said to me mid-labour you are mistaken. Let me take you guys to a room and you can get settled in there.”

Eddie settles you on the bed, making sure you have enough pillows to be comfortable and fussing around until you ask him to just sit down because he’s making you anxious with his pacing. You receive pain relief and are able to relax between exams, and countless members of staff walking in and out to check on you. You have gas and air available to you and of course Eddie asks to try it as soon as you’re on your own.

“Oooh I feel all dizzy.” Eddie laughs as he hands the mouthpiece back to you,

“I’m more enjoying it for the pain relief, but I’m glad you’re having fun.” You stick your tongue out at him.

It’s around 9pm when you first start feeling the urge to push, you alert Eddie and he presses the call button behind your head. Your midwife confirms that you can start to push and Eddie pales for a second but shakes his head, regaining himself and comes to stand by your side taking your hand in his.

It takes two hours of pushing, your whole body wracked with pain and covered in sweat. Eddie tried to distract you from the pain by slipping his fangs in when you weren’t looking and then flashing you a cheesy grin, that did make you laugh until you realised that laughing hurt just as bad as a contraction at the minute. Eddie didn’t have time to remove the fangs before you had to push once more, and this time you were told to hold the push, because the baby's head was so close. You held until you were fairly sure you were about to pass out and then managed one more push.

“Okay heads out! Now let's get these shoulders out and get this guy out!” You could only give a half hearted thumbs up to the midwife as you huffed on the gas and air as though it might hold the secret to getting the baby out with one painless push. 

“You got thish.” Eddie rubs your back, “My shtrong girl, you can do it.” 

You listen to your body and your midwife’s instructions and eventually, after a lot of pushing, swearing and sweating, you feel a small foot kick your thigh and an almost instant relief of pressure.

The cry comes moments later, a beautiful sound to yours and Eddie’s ears. Your son is placed on your chest and Eddie perches on the bed, putting his arm around you to cradle you gently as you look down at the small person laying on you. 

Wayne was absolutely right about the Munson nose, and dark tufts on his slightly bloodied head indicate he’s got Eddie’s hair. The shape of his lips is similar to your own and it makes you smile to see your own features in this perfect being in your arms. Your midwife helps you finish delivery then takes your son away briefly to check him over and clean him up a bit, eventually handing you a bundle of blue blankets surrounding his face. 

“11.59pm, he just made the cut for a Halloween birthday.” The midwife jokes,

“Hell yeah he did.” Eddie grins, then practically melts into a puddle when his finger is grabbed so tightly. You rest the back of your head on Eddie’s chest and he rests his chin on the top of your head as you both stare in absolute wonder.

“Can’t believe we made him.” You say quietly,

“Me neither. He’s just so perfect.” You nod at Eddie’s words, stroking the top of your son’s head. 

“You should probably call our families, let them know.” 

“You sure? They can wait till tomorrow.” You nod reassuring him you are happy for him to step out for a second.

Eddie keeps the door open, and stretches the phone cord to its absolute limit so that he never has to take his eyes off of the two of you while he makes the calls. Your parents cry, but Wayne? Wayne wails down the phone at the news, utterly unintelligible noise. 

“Okay… Well, visiting hours are from 9am so you can come meet him if you want.” More loud sobbing, that sounds like an agreement.

After a night of not really sleeping because you don’t want to take your eyes off of your new baby, and also doing your best impression of a human cow, as you described it to Eddie, 9am rolls around and your parents and Wayne, who had carpooled and being sitting in the car in the parking lot since 7.30am don’t wait a second before they’re practically running to meet their first grandchild.

Wayne is allowed first cuddles and then proceeds to make the strange, strangled wailing noise from last night when Eddie whispers the name to him. Your parents busy themselves with checking on you, trying to wait their turn to see their grandson. Wayne passes the baby to your mother who wells up when the soft weight is placed in her arms, your father similarly chokes up, looking between the baby, you, and Eddie.

“He’s a perfect mix of the pair of you.” 

Eddie peers over your mother’s shoulder, “Yeah, sorry about the nose kid.” Everyone softly chuckles and your father awkwardly places a hand on Eddie’s shoulder.

“Do we get to know the name then?” Your mother asks, gesturing at a quiet sniffling Wayne, you nod and gesture to Eddie.

“His name is Oscar Wayne Munson.” The loud sobbing from Wayne starts up again and your parents smile,

“Or, Ozzy.” You speak up and your mother glances at you, confused,

“Like Osbourne?” You nod, Eddie’s a little too stunned to speak that your mother knows who Ozzy Osbourne is.

“It actually fits, really well.” Your mother laughs looking down at the baby in her arms, “Little Ozzy.” Eventually she is convinced to pass him to your father for cuddles, and then Oscar is placed back in your arms, where you hold him close to you, inhaling that fresh new baby smell that Eddie was convinced was a myth until he’d sniffed Oscar’s head and declared they needed to make that smell a car air freshener. Your family stay for a while, but they notice you getting tired and politely excuse themselves, leaving you and Eddie to cuddle up with your child.

“Hey, did you ever think, all those times you were glaring at me from across the canteen that we’d get to this point?”

“Eddie, I love you so much. But if anyone had told me back then this was how my ‘86 was going to go I would have personally driven them to Pennhurst myself.”

“‘86 was definitely our year though, right?”

“Absolutely.” 

Taglist: @hellomothermoon @tlclick73 @likedovesinthewnd @bebe0701 @wheaty-melon @thegirlwhohides @munsonsgirl71 @sammararaven @joejoequinnquinn @hellfire-puppet @micheledawn1975 @averagemisfit03 @edsforehead @thehuntresswolf @a-hopeless-fan @sister-cirice @boomhauer @quinndjarin @tayhar811 @sidthedollface2 @callmeloverr @manda-panda-monium @3rriberri @eddiesbabe95 @trashmouth-richie @ches-86

[readsalot1]

I would like there to be a fic where the "three solobrats" and early love interests (YJK, JJK era, so A/T, J/TK, J/Z) end up time-travelling to the prequel era (probably shortly after Geonosis), and the Organa-Solo kids are excited to meet their not-evil-yet granddad.

This goes off the rails when Tahiri freaks out as soon as Anakin 1.0 enters because that is the monster of folklore who slaughtered a whole tribe of Tuskens, down to the youngest baby.

Because you can't convince me that in this AU a) Anakin doesn't go down as some sort of ghost/horror story in Tusken culture, and b) curious baby force-sensitive Tahiri didn't wander off at some point and end up seeing the echo of the slaughter.

The prequel-era council obviously freaks out about 1. the time travel, 2. some of the time travelers are Anakin 1.0's descendants, 3. Anakin 1.0 apparently committed genocide (note: the fandom doesn't view this with the right amount of horror, even in light of his second genocide--the Jedi), and decides to temporarily suspend his duties until they can perform an investigation of sorts into his decision-making capabilities.

Anakin 1.0 is initially thrilled because OMG GRANDKIDS and one of them is named after him (wahoo!!), but quickly becomes pissy because the friend of his mini-me (EW, she was raised by Tusken Raiders [careful Ani1, your racism is showing] even though she's human) gets him in trouble with the council.

Anakin 2.0 now has even more issues/worries about his namesake, and turning out like him [note: this was a big plot point in his early appearances].

Jaina & Jacen are kinda worried about this because now their granddad was bad from an earlier point??? and they don't know what to do with that. (Jacen is jumping from joy because a bunch of animals that went extinct during the Empire's rule are still alive; Jaina finds out there were apparently seven lightsaber forms before Knightfall, and decides to crash all the basic training classes. This is hilarious because she's older than the enrolled students for the more basic forms like Shii-cho.)

Tenel Ka and Zekk are along for the ride:

("Wait, she's the heir to the Hapes Consortium?" "yes" "and they're letting her be a Jedi too?" "yep" "politically is that allowed?!?" "I mean her mom's from Dathomir?" **jedi padawan noises of imploded worldview**)

("so Zekk what about you" "oh, I'm a Coruscanti street rat :)" "ah ok, so the order found you easily!" "I guess your version would, but the Jedi got massacred, so I didn't start training until I was a teenager :)" **choking noises** "oh yeah, Emperor Palpatine was a total hardass, I'm so glad my friend's parents got rid of him, I'd probably be dead or totally evil if he was still in power" --at this point the padawan(s?) they're chatting to [maybe Barriss; she seems politically aware enough to worry about the heir of a major political power also being a Jedi--she's probably also read about Xanatos] decides to bring them to the council)

It goes something like "Didn't they mention, Darth Vader & the clones slaughtered pretty much the entire Order. Some of the younger padawans escaped (their masters died for them (and oh, doesn't that hit hard)) and ran until dark siders who served the Emperor hunted them down (this can be vaguely compliant with some Rebels content; assume the Rebellion-era is more fusion with new canon, except Thrawn doesn't engage as much with the Lothal cell, and thus is around for the Thrawn trilogy on to proceed (thus inquisitors exist and so too do the Hands--maybe Mara is Palpy's spy in the inquisorius's ranks; Starkiller can be Vader's; Death Star plan theft follows TFU more than R1) it hits hard that some of their own (their children, their future) work to destroy the vestiges of what they were).

Then they find out that Darth Vader, the Sith Apprentice--the emperor's attack dog, his right hand--is Anakin (1.0), the boy they took in, the one they protected, the one some viewed as their savior, the boy winning battle after battle, the one shining bright, the Hero With No Fear, the boy whose fear of losing everything, everyone he cares about is slowly tearing him to shreds, the foolish, foolish boy who will doom the galaxy to save one person and fail at that, the buy who burned and burned, scorching those around him until he was alone, and still burning, until he burned himself to save another foolish boy, the younger burning like a candle, steadily, warmly, rather than like the sun, and Anakin (they can't bring themselves to hate him, even knowing what he will do--they see the sweet child who loved his mother, who wanted to free all the slaves in the galaxy), seeing the warm, kind candlelight of the other boy, the brave, foolish child, his child, his son, and knowing he will burn him, sees the vacuum of space (the cold, cold man who made him burn everyone, who made him lose everyone, until only the vacuum was left behind, the only one he could not burn away), sure to take the air around the lone, kind candle, and the sun (Anakin) burns itself (himself) out, becomes a supernova to push the vacuum (empty, cold, always hungry) away from the candle (the son), and saves the brave, foolish boy who came to help him, but he feared burning most of all (the burning sun of Tatooine burns himself out, after burning with hatred for the better part of two decades, for another desert child, one who burns with warmth, like a hearthfire, and asks for the girl who burns (with the passion of justice, with compassion, the girl who is like him but not for instead of burning the world for those she loves, she who would burn herself out, the girl who would burn her enemies (those who seek the harm the world) for any who deserve kindness, who burns internally, but is willing to burn others as well) to forgive him, and she does, eventually, she names her steady hearthfire of a son after him, and hopes against hope that he (her son, one of her three suns) will have a happy ending, that he will not burn himself out like his grandfather, his namesake [Anakin, her son, he burns too: for his siblings (they will burn as well, his brother like his grandfather--maybe he should have been Anakin instead--and his sister, burning, the one to put out her twin's light, twin suns of Tatooine, one snuffed out the other), his friends (they break apart, the group splintering, fragmented after the war is won; even before), his love (she breaks, in a way not even being shaped by the black holes, put under pressure in the hope of her becoming one, can do; for a while she fades away to almost nothing, invisible, until the brother, seeing the broken, invisible girl takes her, and tries to make the broken puppet of a girl dance for him; it works for a time, building more cracks in her skin until she shatters, and the people who loved him, Anakin the second, the bright boy who burned himself away too soon, see the girl again, no longer invisible, and try to help her [pray they are not too late to put her (shattered, porcelain, crushed spirit, a shell of her former bright self) together again]), for the galaxy; but at this part of the story we don't know his fate, to burn and burn until there is nothing left, until the force takes him away, to burn so hot, so bright, so light, that his enemies (true voids in the force--black holes--not like the cold, hungry vacuum that desired, took the sun of his grandfather) burned away as well; he burns away, but as a hero. This does not stop his mother from her agony; it is all his father can do to hold himself together to stop her shattering like the girl everyone forgot, the invisible girl who loved his son, who would (and does) do anything for the memory of a boy who left the galaxy too soon].

This is the story they tell: of the angry sun who burns everyone (especially even those who offer him kindness), the boy-candle, the girl who burns with the heat of a thousand suns but never harms those undeserving of that fury, the scoundrel with the hard exterior who inside is kind, the brave wookie warrior who lives [and dies, though they will not know it for a time] to protect them, the saviors of the galaxy;

and others as well: the girl who was almost snuffed out by the vacuum, who burned as a quiet ember, whose flame was reawakened by the boy-candle; the boy who parallels her, who was trained by the angry sun to burn like him but refused, who burned out over and over again trying to prove himself, and, in the end, burned out to save the galaxy, who sent the message to the rebels that worked to end the war [the message, that, too late for some, still saved billions, perhaps trillions of lives, had it not been sent (how many worlds could have shared Alderaan's fate?)].