#I will try to make some time for Tristan soon.

[lordofthestrix]

Prolonged family reunions are certainly an experience.

[a-aexotic]

✫𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒏𝒆, i can see you.

✫ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | fighting, swearing, tristan being an asshole, breaking things (not too graphic promise LOL) ✫ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 | hey yall, i'm back! i hope everyone enjoys! also i tagged everyone who seemed interested, i'm sorry for the VERY late update. i'm back, mwahhh. also planning a nate archibald series, who'd be interested? lmk! ✫ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | @colbybrocks @weepingwitchofthewest @shady-writtingtalk @zulpix-blog @wheelerslover @dogmom600 @damnhati @remussbitch @yourmumstoyboy2-blog @1-800-starkindustrie

The front door opened suddenly and she whipped her head to make eye contact with... Tristan Dugray? Oh, so that's where she's heard that name!

Y/N couldn't control as her mouth flew open. She also couldn't control the words that came out of her mouth as she saw him. "Oh, you've gotta be shitting me."

After Y/N had locked eyes with Tristan she whipped her head to face her father. "You're engaged to Tristan's mother?!"

Her father and Kristan looked surprised — they both exchanged glances before they looked back at her. "Yeah, I guess I am?"

His answer sounded more like a question rather than a straight up reply. He didn't know why she was now seemingly opposed to the idea of him being engaged to Kristan simply because of Tristan.

Y/N looked shocked, her jaw practically on the floor. "You're engaged to Tristan's mother." Instead of a question, it sounds more like a statement.

Before any of them could reply, Tristan spoke. "Oh, hello step-sister." You could practically hear the smirk in his voice. He was enjoying see your shocked expression. Tristan's smug remark only fueled your growing frustration and utter disbelief. You shot him a glare that could freeze lava before turning back to her father and Kristan, your mind racing with a whirlwind of emotions.

"So, this is what you meant by wanting me to spend time with my old 'friends'?" Your tone was laced with sarcasm as she addressed her father. "You conveniently forgot to mention that my 'old friend' is now my soon-to-be stepbrother?"

Her father shifted uncomfortably under her accusing gaze, realizing he had failed to properly prepare Y/N for this bombshell. "I... I thought it would be best to tell you in person."

Your frustration mounted with each passing second. "Well you thought wrong, Dad."

Kristan interjected, her voice gentle yet firm. "I understand this is a lot to take in, Y/N. But we're all going to be a family now, and I hope we can find a way to make this work."

Y/N fought the urge to roll her eyes at Kristan's attempt to diffuse the tension as she gave her a sarcastic smile. "Right, a family. How convenient."

Tristan leaned against the doorway, his arms crossed with a smirk still playing on his lips. "Well, this should be fun. Welcome to the family, stepsis."

Y/N resisted the urge to launch herself at him as she shot daggers with her eyes. "Don't call me that."

Kristan shot a glare at her son as she turned to you once again. "We didn't realize it would be such a shock to you,. We should have handled this better."

You took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside me. You knew you couldn't blame her father entirely, but the whole thing still felt like a betrayal. "I just need some time to process all of this," Y/N muttered, her voice tinged with resignation. "Excuse me."

"I thought that went great." Tristan mumbled as his mother shook his head, your father pulling her in closer.

You turned on her heel and stormed out of the room, leaving your father, Kristan, and Tristan as your retreated to her old bedroom, you couldn't shake the feeling that your carefully constructed world was crumbling around you, and you had no idea how to pick up the pieces.

You stepped out of the car, dramatically slamming the door as you took in the school: Chilton Prep School, where she would be going to school from now. She heard footsteps from behind her, she already knew who it was.

"Welcome home, Cromwell." Tristan's voice rang. You gritted her teeth at the sound of Tristan's voice behind you. You turned slowly, fixing him with a glare that could cut through steel.

"Save it, Dugray," you snapped, your tone dripping with disdain. "This is hardly my idea of home."

Tristan raised an eyebrow, his smirk never faltering. "Well, get used to it. Looks like we're going to be seeing a lot more of each other from now on."

Tristan raised an eyebrow, his smirk never faltering. "Feisty as ever, Cromwell. I'm just offering a friendly welcome to our new classmate, no need to get all... bitchy."

You narrowed your eyes at his remark, resisting the urge to roll them. "I'll take that as a compliment, Dugray. And I don't need your welcome. I know my way around just fine."

Tristan's smirk widened, clearly enjoying getting a rise out of you. "Oh, come on, Cromwell. Where's that famous New York charm? You're going to need it to survive in this stuffy place."

"I'll manage just fine without your help," you shot back, your voice dripping with determination. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have better things to do than stand here and listen to your bullshit."

You turned away from Tristan, walking into Chilton. You already hated it, everyone looked so pretentious and elitist, just like Tristan. But you weren't going to let that intimidate you. You had faced down Manhattan's elite, and you could handle a bunch of snooty prep school kids. You had grown up with these kids, they couldn't be that hard.

As you made your way through the halls, you couldn't shake the feeling of being out of place. The students eyed you with curiosity, whispers following in your wake. But you held your head high, refusing to let them see any hint of insecurity.

Chilton was a far cry from the bustling streets of Manhattan, and you couldn't shake the feeling that you were in for a rough ride. But you were Y/N Cromwell, and you didn't back down from a challenge.

With a flick of your hair and a confident stride, you made your way to your first class, ready to show Chilton Prep that Y/N Cromwell was a force to be reckoned with.

"Where are you two going?" You popped a grape in your mouth as you watched Kristan grab her purse from the chair as your father tightened his tie.

"I told you earlier, we have a date."

You raised an eyebrow at your father's response, a hint of skepticism in your voice. "A date? You two are acting like lovesick teenagers."

Kristan chuckled, smoothing down her blouse as she shot you a warm smile. "Well, your father does know how to sweep a lady off her feet."

You rolled your eyes as Kristan and your father shared glances. You all knew what that meant, you had to be left alone with Tristan. You had barely managed to tolerate his presence since arriving at your father's house, and the thought of spending an evening alone with him was enough to make you want to crawl out of your skin.

"Well, have fun on your date," you forced out, the words tasting bitter on your tongue.

With a quick goodbye, your father and Kristan headed out the door, leaving you alone, turning around and seeing Tristan in the spacious living room. He caught your gaze and his lips curved up into a smile.

You felt a shiver run down your spine as Tristan's gaze met yours, his smirk sending a wave of irritation coursing through you. You knew exactly what he was thinking – that he had you right where he wanted you, trapped in his company for the evening.

Suppressing a sigh, you turned away from Tristan, refusing to let him see how much he was getting under your skin. Instead, you busied yourself with anything that would distract you from his presence – flipping through a magazine, checking your phone, anything to avoid acknowledging him.

But no matter how hard you tried to ignore him, Tristan was a persistent presence in the room. You could feel his eyes on you, his smug smirk burning into the back of your skull.

Finally unable to take it anymore, you turned to face him with a glare. "What do you want, Tristan?" you snapped, your patience wearing thin.

Tristan's smirk widened, his gaze flickering with amusement. "Just enjoying the view, Cromwell," he replied casually, as if your irritation was nothing more than entertainment to him.

You let out a bitter laugh as you shook your head. "Real classy, Tristan."

Tristan's smirk only widened at your remark, his amusement evident in every line of his face. "Oh, come on, Cromwell," he said, his tone teasing. "You can't tell me you're not used to being the center of attention. You were in New York for five years and you're telling me you didn't have the boys throwing themselves at you?"

You narrowed your eyes at Tristan, refusing to let his words rattle you. "I don't need validation from boys like you," you retorted, your voice dripping with annoyance. "Unlike some people, I have more important things to focus on than relationships."

Tristan's smirk faltered slightly at your cutting remark, but he quickly regained his composure. "Touché, Cromwell," he replied, his tone laced with amusement. "But don't act like you're immune to a little attention. I've seen the way you strut around like you own the place."

"And you don't? Please, I see the way every girl at Chilton looks at you. And I know you well enough to see how much that strokes your already, inflated ego." You paused, your voice laced with sarcasm as you leveled a pointed gaze at Tristan. "But hey, who am I to judge? If you want to bask in the adoration of your fan club, be my guest."

"Oh, I will, Y/N." Tristan let out a laugh as he watched you get all heated. He continued you watch you as you scoffed, turning your head back to the magazine.

You could feel his eyes on you, his amusement practically palpable. But you refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing you squirm. You weren't about to let him see how much he was getting to you. With a determined flick of your wrist, you closed the magazine and stood up from the sofa, shooting Tristan a glare.

"I have better things to do than sit here and listen to you," you declared, your voice laced with determination. With that, you turned on your heel and marched out of the room, leaving Tristan behind with his smug smirk and his insufferable ego.

You refused to let him drag you down to his level – you had bigger things to focus on than his petty games, like actually getting back to Manhattan where you belonged.

As you walked away, Tristan's amusement turned to frustration. He wasn't used to someone challenging him like this, especially not someone like you. With a determined stride, he followed after you, catching up just as you reached the hallway.

As you stormed out of the room, Tristan's smirk faded into a scowl. He watched you go, frustration bubbling up inside him. How dare she walk away from him like that? Without a second thought, Tristan followed after you, his footsteps echoing in the hallway as he caught up to you just as you reached the foyer.

"Hey, where do you think you're going?" Tristan called out, his voice sharp with annoyance.

You stopped in your tracks, turning to face him with a glare. "Away from you," you replied sharply, crossing your arms over your chest. "I can't stand being around you for another second."

Tristan's jaw clenched, his own temper flaring. "Oh, please," he scoffed, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Like you're any better. You're nothing but a spoiled brat who thinks she's better than everyone else."

The words hit you like a slap in the face, igniting a firestorm of rage within you. "At least I'm not a narcissistic asshole who gets off on belittling others," you spat, your voice rising with each word. "You think you're so much better but you're not."

Tristan squared his shoulders, meeting your gaze head-on. "I want to know what your problem is," he replied, his tone angry. "You've been acting like you a complete bitch when I'm all trying to do is be your friend."

You scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief. "Oh, spare me the act, Tristan," you shot back, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "We both know that's not what you're after. You just want to play your little games and stroke your own ego."

Tristan's jaw clenched, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "And what about you, huh?" he retorted, his voice rising in anger. "You act like you're too good for everyone, like you're above it all. Well, let me tell you something, Y/N – you're not as special as you think you are."

"You know what, Tristan. I don't care about you or your stupid games because all I'm trying to do is get back to New York. All this shit is just a rock in the road," you spat as you turned around, walking away.

"Oh really? What about your obvious drinking problem, that's why your mom sent you away, right?"

You stopped in your track as you took in Tristan's words. Fury was etched across your features as you spun around to face him, your fists clenched at your sides. "How dare you," you seethed, your voice trembling with rage. "You stupid asshole!"

You pushed him as hard as you could, causing him to trip and fall into a table. You heard a loud shattering and both of you just stared at each other before looking down to see glass everywhere.

"Shit, that's my mom's vase." Tristan's eyes widened in shock as he glanced at the shattered remains of the vase on the floor.

Your chest heaved with anger as you glared at Tristan, your fists still clenched at your sides. "You deserved it," you spat, your voice thick with venom. "You had no right to say that."

"Y/N, this vase is like two grand. It was my mom's favorite vase," Tristan scoffed as he stared down at the ground. "She's gonna be fucking pissed, idiot."

You stared back at him with anger but you knew that you needed to figure something out. Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you clenched your jaw and met Tristan's gaze head-on. "I know I messed up," you admitted begrudgingly, your voice tight with frustration. "You shouldn't have been a bitch."

"Well you shouldn't have pushed me, like an psycho." Tristan's voice was sharp, but there was a hint of surrender beneath his irritation. He knew that pointing fingers wouldn't solve anything, but he couldn't help but feel defensive in the face of your accusation.

"Well I'm not apologizing-"

"Y/N, we need to figure out what to do before they come home."

And right on cue, the front door opened, revealing your father and Kristan, who froze in shock at the sight of the shattered vase and the two of you standing next to it.

Your father's expression hardened as he took in the scene, his disappointment evident in his eyes. "What in the world happened here?" he demanded, his voice a mix of frustration and disbelief.

masterlist !

series masterlist !

[xoxochb]

⋆·˚ ༘ * if you get lonely, think of me only

warnings: major foreshadowing, more kissing at the end, vulgar language, I got lazy trying to end this because I’m awful at ending fics

pairing: percy jackson x daughter of hades and persephone

series master list

“what? I don’t- I thought he was with dad?”

nico shrugs

“okay, okay. well I need to change out of this, will you give me a moment?” you say referring to your wedding dress

your brother nods and closes the door behind him. you quickly change out of your wedding dress to your ‘casual�� dress. you give percy a sentimental look and a peck to his lips

“I’ll be back in a minute” another kiss and you’re off

for percy however, he doesn’t like that you left him- your boyfriend- for another man- your soon to be husband. would following you be too possessive? perhaps, but his jealousy got the best of him

your walk to the foyer was entirely nerve-wracking, many questions fill your mind. why was he here? how long would he be here? would the wedding be sooner than anticipated? was the wedding called off? was your father back?

when you catch sight of your soon-to-be husband- what was his name again? tristan? travis? triton? troy! you knew you would get it some day

he waits by the door and even as you were far enough that you could barely see him, his ocean scent was strong, almost suffocating when you stand directly beside him

“you wanted to see me?” you cross your arms

a smirk appears on his mouth “ah, yes. your father thought it would be a good idea for me to get to know my wife”

“what?”

“I suppose you don’t understand those words yet. talking to younger women is useless” he mutters, but his next words are back to normal volume “he wants me to get to know you”

“what the hell do you mean by that? we’re the same age are we not?”

“well yes… my last wife was much older though”

“your last wife? does my father know you were married before me?”

“of course he does”

you run your hands over your face as a way to relax “okay. that’s fine”

it’s not fine. you want to see him publicly executed

“so when are you free”

“never if it’s to see you”

“your father wouldn’t like the way you’re speaking to me”

“well forget him! I don’t give a shit what he thinks”

“I didn’t know princesses used such vulgar language”

“well they do”

silence

“well, seeing that this conversation is getting inappropriate for a married couple I’ll be in the parlor, come find me when you’ve matured”

he brushes past you, gone, get the ocean still lingers. you take one last look at your surroundings before walking back to your room

on percy’s side of things he hides behind a nearby pillar, close enough to see, too far to hear. however he can always tell the mood of the conversation by your demeanor, this time furious. he watches you attentively for absolutely anything, any small details at all. he doesn’t know this man, not at all, but when the pungent scent of the sea fills his senses he knows he doesn’t like him, and he has a legitimate reason this time. had your father purposely set you up with this boy?

when he sees you walk past the pillar he hid behind he swiftly- yet stealthily- rushes back to your room in an attempt to beat you there for a ‘Ive been here the whole time’ appearance

when he arrives at your room he flops down on your bed out of breath and you make your arrival only moments later

he sits up (‘act casual’ he reminds himself) “welcome back, princess. what’d he want to see you for?”

you roll your eyes at the reminder of your unbearable future husband “I don’t want to talk about it, he’s absolutely absurd. something’s off about him I swear”

he doesn’t ask any further questions. for one reason because he knows better than to anger a daughter of hades, and another: because he respects your wishes unlike your soon-to-be husband. regardless if both of those factors he hated you marrying another man. he deserved to be the one marrying you, not some idiot who doesn’t treat you right

you lay down beside percy in his propped up position. he takes advantage of this and places his lips on yours; passion and jealously-filled

“hate that you’re marrying another guy” he rasps against your lips “doesn’t deserve you”

he puts his free hand on your waist to pull you closer, because for him your bodies being any more than one inch apart is utterly preposterous. he puts one leg in between yours as the kisses get more heated. your hands tangle in his hair, pushing him almost impossibly closer to you. gods- your lips would be so swollen tomorrow morning

tag list: @itzmeme @lara20aral @saint-jaz-the-queer @leathesimp @pevenxie

[redgoldblue]

so assuming Avery is actually pregnant / doesn't early-trimester miscarry (which is not a given), there's two reasonable ways this can go, right. number one is she gets an abortion, the plotline is used to pull them all back together again, and they all have some collective hurt/comfort about it. number two, the one i would write - don't get me wrong, i'm all for women getting career-driven abortions, but hear me out - is the one where she does have the baby. under the cut bc it got long.

she goes to med school at first while pregnant - Max is right, it can be done, people in my cohort did it - and either gets lucky with the timing of the actual birth being during holidays, or just works her way to getting time off for a few weeks around it. And then... there's a baby. And you know what else there is? There's two dads (because we're 100% Mamma Mia-ing this bitch. they never find out who the bio dad is and they never seriously try. Baby comes out with Avery's exact skin tone so that's no clue.), and an entire cruise ship worth of backup babysitters. So Avery goes back to med school, and leaves the baby with Tristan and Max.

And, yes, raising a baby while also running an infirmary with a rotating cast of temporary substitute nurses filling Avery's role isn't the easiest thing they've ever done, but Robert loves fulfilling grandparent duties any time he's not on duty; Rosie gets one of those strap-on baby carriers and walks her (i don't know why i've decided the baby is a her but i have now) around the engine room pointing out parts and explaining concepts and hey, the baby never complains about her Michigan stories; Corey gets a cart and a bundle of clean sheets and pushes her down the corridors until the smell of laundry powder automatically makes her start laughing.

Max and Tristan make a pact to send Avery at least two photos a day - which ends up getting supplemented by everyone else who's with Baby - and FaceTime her most days, and whenever she gets a few days off she meets them in port. (The most expensive part of baby-raising ends up being her flights to wherever the Odyssey happens to be at the time, at least until Robert finds out and figures out a way to start paying her 'maternity leave', despite her insistence that the whole point of this is that she isn't maternity-leaving and he should probably be paying himself that and anyway, isn't she technically not an employee right now?)

And the thing is, during this time, Max and Tristan start... realising some things. Like how neither of them feel like they've lost their only partner, because they.. haven't. Like how the co-parenting's been working out better than either of them expected, because they fell instantly (minus a few minor bumps) into a shared rhythm. Like how sometimes they look at the other one holding Baby and feel like their heart's about to explode.

Also, they've both started sleeping in Max's bed. Because Baby's spent so much time sleeping in the corner of the infirmary that now if she wakes up at night and can't see both of them, she starts crying inconsolably. And obviously Max's suite is more suited to multiple inhabitants, and they're usually too damn exhausted to even remember the first time they were in this bed together.

(usually. most of the time. and when they're not, they don't make it the other's problem)

So at the end of the first year of this, the last two days of the year's last cruise have been packed with crisis after crisis after demanding patient after crisis, and as soon as they finally wave the last passenger off they hand Baby gratefully over to Robert and go crash out in Max's bed.

Avery was supposed to be meeting them on board tomorrow, but her last exam gets unexpectedly moved up by a day (believe me, med school loves to pull that kind of shit on you), so a couple hours after the passengers have gone, she shows up to surprise them. And finds Robert (a known ody3 shipper) first, who lets her take Baby with minimal captainly sulking about it, and while she rocks and kisses Baby, tells her (as a known ody3 shipper) that the two dads will be on the Pelican deck, but they're probably asleep.

Avery kinda frowns at him, but doesn't question it, and takes Baby up with her to Max's suite to find them. And they are both fast asleep, on either side of Max's bed with a space carefully preserved between them (because it's usually where Baby would be and they're both terrified of accidentally rolling onto her in the middle of the night). She's also exhausted after exams, so she crawls into it, lies on her back with Baby on top of her chest, and goes straight to sleep.

Tristan and Max wake up before her, and when they look across at each other, at Avery and Baby between them, they both simultaneously realise, oh. oh. oh, this - this three, two-and-half, four people, all together - this is it. this is the love, this is the children, this might even be the home - the second, third, fourth bucket list items to happen in this bed.

[multifandoms27-blog]

I got inspired by a certain season to request this. Can I request headcanons of Yugi, Yami and Kaiba reacting to their S/O joining an evil organization and challenging them to a duel please? (Whether it's their own volition or their being brainwash, is up to you~)

I love battle city so I went with Marik controlling them for this! Lets go boys and ghouls hehehehehe

Content: Yugi x gn!Reader, Yami Yugi x gn!Reader, Seto Kaiba x gn!Reader (separate)

Warnings: Mentions of attempted amputation, drowning, and beheading

Notes: Sorry this took so long! I couldn't decide what to do for Yugi's part for a very long time!

• ───────────────── •

❥Yugi

He pushed the pharaoh away from this duel. He wanted to save you, just as he saved Joey.

He may even tune out his friends to save you, or split off from them completely. He loves his friends, but he loves you more.

He demands Marik release you, and when he doesn't, he goes through with the duel.

He wins, expectedly, and when he sees a saw heading straight for your neck he wails out in terror.

"Y/N! NO!" He rushes forward and tugs you onto the floor just before the saw rips past.

In your confusion, you blink open your eyes and look up at Yugi. "Yu...Yugi...?"

"I'm here, I'm here. You're safe now." His tears streamed down his face as he slowly lifted you up.

He put a hand on your cheek and went in for a long kiss. The cries of his friends interruped him, making both of you turn and look at Joey, Tristan and Tea. Joey spoke first. "Y/n! Yugi! You okay?!"

"We're fine!" Yugi yelled from across the arena, then turned back to you. "I'll make sure nothing like that happens to you again."

"What...even happened?" You asked.

"I'll explain when we leave. I'm just so happy you're safe." He wiped his own tears away, then took you by the hand and led you out of there.

❥Yami Yugi

You mean so much to him, so much that he didn't allow Yugi to take over for this duel. He would rescue you himself, and then tear Marik apart.

Yami cursed Marik as he took over your every move and forced you to duel in a death trap.

He knew he had to beat you in order to have Marik relinquish control over you. As soon as he summoned Dark Magician, the duel was over.

The trap Marik had you in forced you under water, but in a tank. Not open water like Joey's.

Yami dove into the tank after you plunged. Marik released control of your mind, making you try to gasp for breath. In your confusion, you swallowed a lot of water.

Yami swam as fast as he could to you, hooked his hands under your arms and began trying to pull you up. His own strength could only take him so far, but before he knew it, Joey and Tristan had jumped in to help. Together, the three men pulled you out of the tank.

You coughed up some water after being turned on your side so you wouldn't choke. Yami held you close as you did, shaking and holding in tears.

"I thought I lost you forever..." He whispered.

"I'm here, I'm here..." You spoke reassuringly to both Yami and yourself.

"And you're not going anywhere without me." Yami tightened his hold just a little bit.

❥Seto Kaiba

He hates this. This is just like Mokuba being kidnapped, but you're right there.

You're right there but he can't reach you.

He doesn't know whether to beat you or let you win so you can be spared. It brings him back to his own antics towards Yugi during Duelist Kingdom.

Except you're not doing this of your own volition, he knows you aren't. He doesn't normally believe in supernatural things, but this is different.

He decides to beat you. While the duel goes on, he has a plan in his mind to free you from the trap as well as himself.

When he beats you, Marik laughs in your mind as he lets go of your mind control, thinking you're about to die. Seto however, springs into action, freeing you from getting a limb chopped off.

You have no idea what's going on, and honestly you feel really dizzy and your vision is blurry. Seto holds you close, calming down slowly knowing you're alive in his arms.

"S...Seto?" You asked, looking up at him.

Your vision was slowly coming back to you, and you recognized his white jacket. He didn't say anything for a moment, just continued to hold you. Then he spoke.

"It's okay, I have you now. Let's get out of here." Seto stands with you in his arms, leaving the building.

"What...happened?"

Seto begins to tell you the events leading up to the duel, how Marik had somehow possessed you and forced you to duel to the death with him, but he had managed to free both you and him. He then informed you that you were not to leave his side for the rest of his tournament.

• ───────────────── •

Here is my Masterlist in case you want to request, or look for more of your favorite character!

[illuminatedquill]

Story Summary: Sabine and Ezra do their best to enjoy a rare day off at home as their daughter, Mira, begins her days in the Academy. But, as it always is with these two, things are never that simple for this star-crossed pair . . .

Day 1, SabezraWeek2024 Prompt: Slice of Life - Domestic Sabezra

@sabezraweek

I used to be a morning person.

In the early days, back when I was still on the Ghost with Kanan, Hera, Zeb, Chopper, and Ezra, I relished being the first person awake during our long travels around the galaxy. Walking into the communal area, brewing up a fresh mug of caf, and then sitting in the Phantom alone, watching the stars pass by in silence. It was such a brief respite from the general chaos of our everyday existence, fighting a war against an implacable foe than never seemed to falter in its cruelty.

(Well, technically, I was the first person awake. Hera never really seemed to sleep, always tinkering with her ship at odd hours.)

Even back then, being involved in a war for our survival, I couldn't resist against the sense of optimism that flowed into me, looking out at the vastness of space. I felt young and invincible, able to shape the future as I saw fit.

There was no challenge that Sabine Wren, Mandalorian, could overcome.

But now . . .

A sharp series of pokes at my cheek, accompanied by giggling.

"Papa, I don't think she's going to wake up." My daughter, Mira, attempting to rouse me from my slumber.

My husband's voice, intimately familiar and filled with easy-going humor, replied in an amused tone. "Try the other cheek, maybe?"

Deciding to be playful, I let out a noise that some would unwisely call a snore. This was shortly joined by more giggling from my daughter.

I felt some pressure on my other cheek - and then, with lightning quick reflexes, snatched my daughter into a bear hug. "Aaaahhhhhh!" I growled. "Who dares disturb my precious sleep?"

The giggling erupted into squeals of laughter, bright and lively. "Mama!" Mira said, as I rolled around with her on my bed. "You're finally awake."

I peppered her face with kisses. "All thanks to you, little one. As punishment, I give you death by a thousand kisses."

"Gross! Papa, help me out here," complained Mira.

My husband, Ezra, stood at the side of our bed, dressed in casual sleepwear. His hair was still a little floofy from sleep, along with rumpled clothes. In the early morning hours, it was undeniably an extremely attractive look - well, at least it was to me, which is all that mattered. He stroked his beard, recently trimmed, looking thoughtful.

"Actions have consequences, cyare," he said sadly. "I'm afraid that's a fact of life."

Mira wriggled out of my embrace to glare at her father. "This was your idea, Papa," she retorted.

"Was it? I can't recall. Must be my old age."

I snorted and sat up in bed. "Is it time?" I asked.

My daughter looked at me, annoyance momentarily dropped. "Yes. Leaving for the Academy today."

"Soon, I might add," Ezra stated. He looked at his chrono. "Head over to the refresher, Mira. Let's get you ready now."

I stroked her hair, suddenly overcome with emotion. It seemed only yesterday that a medical droid had handed her to me, so tiny and fierce with life, swaddled in a blanket. The labor had been long and arduous, full of unexpected complications, but holding her in my arms afterwards - the ultimate manifestation of the love shared between myself and Ezra - was one of the happiest moments in my entire life.

She was our heart in physical form, stepping outside our chests into the big, wide galaxy. I knew we couldn't protect her forever, much as I wished sometimes to just lock her inside the comm-tower - she needed to spread her wings at some time.

I just wished it hadn't come so quickly. If only I had more time . . .

My thoughts wandered towards my late mother and father. Did they feel this way when Tristan and I started making our own way through life? Making choices that caused our paths to diverge far, far from home?

"Mama?" asked Mira, her voice worried. She stared curiously at me, her features a mix of Ezra and mine; I saw his smile at times, bright and guileless, but her eyes flashed briefly with a fire that reminded me all too well of my own - and my late mother's.

"Are you okay? You look sad."

I swallowed the lump in my throat and forced a smile. "It's a happy kind of sad, cyare. You grew up on us so fast, little one."

Mira smiled. "I'm a kid. That's what I'm supposed to do."

I laughed and pulled her into a big hug. "And you're doing such a great job of it."

Ezra seemed more composed than I did, but I felt through our bond in the Force that he was going through the same emotional turbulence I was. His tone was gentle as he said, "Mira, it's time. Say good-bye to your mother now."

My daughter gave me a farewell kiss on the cheek and sprinted out the door. Ezra looked at me. "Are you going to be alright?"

I sniffed. Allergies, I told myself.

Sure, Sabine.

"No," I admitted. "I just thought . . ."

"That today would take longer to get here?" Ezra said, finishing my train of thought. "I feel the same way, Sabine."

I reached out to grasp his hand. He squeezed it affectionately. "You get it."

"She's with us for only a little time," Ezra said quietly. "Let's just enjoy it while we can."

I couldn't say anything to that. I heard someone say once that children are a gift that are loaned to us for only a little while. At some point, we had to let them go find their own way.

Why is the last act of love always letting go, I wondered.

He leaned forward to kiss me on the forehead before leaving to attend to our daughter. "Get some more sleep," he said. "I'll see you after I drop her off."

_ _ _ _ _

I awoke an hour later to the rich aroma of freshly brewed caf. Shuffling out of the bedroom, I found Ezra in the kitchen with a mug of my favorite beverage.

I accepted it gratefully and collapsed onto the couch. Murley sauntered by, brushing his face against my legs - a regular routine for him, since the act resulted in his daily allowance of petting. With fond annoyance, I reached down to do so.

Once he was satisfied, the mangy loth-cat let out a purr as thanks and stepped away to find a warm spot to doze in.

"You live such a charmed life," I noted.

Ezra joined me on the couch, a bowl of freshly sliced golden plait-fruit, berries, and meilooruns on his lap. My stomach growled at the sight.

"Hungry?" he asked.

I held back from snatching the bowl from his lap. "You have to ask?" I said, trying not to sound like a hungry loth-wolf.

My husband grinned. "No. But it's fun to do so."

He picked at a slice of fruit and popped it into my open mouth. I chewed slowly, savoring the fresh fruit. In between bites, I finished my caf, and leaned my head onto Ezra's shoulder, nuzzling into his neck.

"What's on the agenda for today?" I asked. My voice was still slurred slightly, a result of not fully being awake yet - the caf had yet to take effect.

I felt Ezra shift uncomfortably on the couch. "Well . . ."

I groaned. "Is that today?" I asked. "I thought it wasn't for another week, at least."

"Hey," Ezra retorted. "It was your idea. You said we shouldn't put off cleaning and maintenance any longer. This was the day we both agreed upon."

I grimaced. He was right. Ezra was a Jedi Knight, which came with enormous responsibilities, and Bo-Katan - the current leader of Mandalore - always needed my help corralling the clans into focusing on rebuilding our home world instead of warring against each other.

Add all that with the time-consuming demands of being a parent, meant that the comm-tower we called home had fallen into disrepair. We made it work; it wasn't easy by any stretch of the imagination, but that meant some things fell through the cracks.

"I've changed my mind," I said promptly. "Let's wait another week."

"Sabine," he said patiently. "We have a pile of dirty laundry that is literally taller than our daughter. It needs to be done."

I really did not want to clean the comm-tower. Ezra and I had been so busy over the past few months and with Mira finally out of the house starting Academy, we finally had some alone time.

I had needs that had to be addressed.

Desperate times call for desperate measures, I thought.

With a firm hand, I turned his face gently towards me. His expression was curious, a question presumably about to be asked but I had already pressed my lips hungrily against his.

There was a moment of surprised silence before he melted into it, his need rising to meet mine. I pushed gently against his frame, and we fell gently onto the couch, still kissing passionately.

"Sabine," he groaned. "We have so much to do today."

"We do," I agreed, tracing a line of smooches down his cheek, his neck, aiming to make my way further down into more enticing territory. "So, it would be best if we finish this first so that our focus can be fully on the chores."

His voice dropped into a husky growl, signaling that I had won this particular battle. "You are incorrigible," he huffed out.

I was in the middle of pulling his shirt off as he spoke. "Oh?" I asked, arching an eyebrow at him. "Should I stop?"

He glared at me. "Come here."

I lowered my face to his, holding back laughter.

Ezra grinned and he pulled me into a warm embrace, kissing and making me breathless; making me feel alive.

_ _ _ _ _

True to my word, I was locked in on the chores after we finished.

Ezra puttered around the house, cleaning up the various debris littering the floors first before putting in the hard work of sweeping, dusting, and mopping to make sure our home was habitable again.

Meanwhile, I focused on the maintenance: checking the electrical systems, the power generators, and communications array.

Early on in our relationship, we had figured out a good system to handling the daily mundane tasks of everyday life. Ezra had clocked immediately that I hated cleaning; something that shouldn't have surprised him, given our prior co-habitation on the Ghost.

When I had poked him about it, since he had visited my room countless times, he pointed out that we were at war with the Empire during that period.

"I assumed that was the reason," he muttered, after seeing my incredulous expression. "I didn't know that was your default state, Sabine."

"It would have been," I admitted. "If Hera and Kanan hadn't kept being annoyingly persistent about cleaning up after myself."

Meanwhile, I had realized that Ezra lacked the mechanical knowledge and expertise that had been ingrained into me since birth - which, if we lived in a normal state-of-the-art apartment complex in Capital City, wouldn't be necessary.

But we had decided to stay in the old comm-tower instead. During long years of isolation and loneliness, the aging structure had served as home for both of us. It was an easy choice, one of the first we made together as a couple.

But that meant someone had to look after and maintain it. Which meant me.

Parts for upkeep were increasingly rare since the comm-tower was already past its prime during the Empire's reign, as the last of its line of communications towers before being phased out of service. When the Empire came to power, this proved to be a boon to the Bridgers, since the outdated machinery meant that it was overlooked during the initial Imperial survey of Lothal's resources - and continued to be so when their son claimed it as refuge after they were taken.

Because of the rarity of parts for use, that meant I had to regularly scavenge in junkyards across the galaxy to find components that could be used. My husband was competent in quite a few forms of mechanical repair, but the tower was a long-term care project and required the kind of ingenuity and complexity that he simply wasn't equipped with.

And I really, really did not like to clean.

So, the bargain was struck - I handled maintenance, he handled cleaning. It was a good deal which enabled us to avoid arguments and turn our attention and energy to more pressing matters (like what we had just done on the couch.)

I was on my back, dressed in an old flight suit borrowed from Hera, covered in old grease and spatters of oil, halfway inserted into an open vent that led to a circuit board that controlled the flow of our air conditioning. It sparked erratically mere inches from my eyes, which were safely shielded behind a pair of mechanic's goggles (also from Hera, but she didn't know that I had them).

I frowned, holding back a curse. This circuit board had been a problem since I had procured it from a shady Quarren vendor on Kijimi. But the discount he had offered was too good to pass up.

I see now why it was so cheap, I thought grimly. Should have known better, di'kut.

There was a nudge at my foot. I peered out to see the face of my husband, looking concerned, holding a large trash bag full of -

"Is that hair?" I asked, shocked. "That can't be all hair, Ezra."

He gave a faint look of disgust and shook the bag's contents. "Afraid so. I can't tell if this all Murley's or if Mira's been letting in some of his feral friends while we haven't been paying attention."

I craned my neck to find the accused in question and found Murley, our resident loth-cat and menace, taking up his usual place on my personal tool bench. He was watching us with curious eyes.

I pointed my electric torch at him. "Stop loafing around and help out. I don't let you squat here just to be cute and keep us company, you know."

Murley mewled in what I construed to be polite disagreement.

I wagged the torch aggressively to emphasize my next statement. "I'll kick you out," I promised. "For real this time."

The loth-cat blinked - and then proceeded to cough up a disgusting hair ball.

Ezra sighed. "Great. I have to clean up that now."

"He has his charms," I said, grinning.

He folded his arms, annoyed. "Which are . . .?"

"Well," I said. "For one, he does remind me of a certain handsome Jedi."

Ezra squatted down to me, a slight smile breaking through his annoyance. "Oh, does he?"

I reached up to stroke my husband's face affectionately. "Why do you think I kept him around so long?"

"Figured it was the other way around. He was hard to get rid of."

"So were you," I pointed out. "Seems like I have a penchant for being liked by strays."

He leaned into my touch - and then laughed when my stomach growled hideously.

Feeling my face flush, I went scooted back into the open maintenance shaft.

"Guess it's feeding time," Ezra chuckled. "What are you in the mood for?"

Trying - and failing - to sound nonchalant about the egregious announcement of my bodily functions, I answered, "Two Bantha burgers, large fries, and a meiloorun smoothie."

"I'm assuming both of those are for - "

"Me, yeah," I grunted, stifling the mild spike of annoyance. My hunger was finally making itself known after an hour of toiling away in the mechanical guts of our home and I felt it begin to poison my jovial mood.

"So, that will be three bantha burgers, large fries, and two smoothies, then. From Paldo's?"

Paldo's. My favorite local fast-food diner in Capital City run by an elderly Twi'lek named, you guessed it, Paldo. I was considered royalty by the manager there, much to my husband's amusement. There was even a framed picture of me on the wall, first thing you saw when walking inside. Mira always laughed with delight whenever she accompanied me for a meal.

"Yup," I said.

He eyed me. "I don't understand where you put all that food."

I gestured proudly at myself. Years of hard work, battle, and a stressful childbirth and yet my figure was still in top form for my age. "It's all in the genes, cyar'ika."

"Is that so," Ezra said dryly. "And are those same genes the reason why you eat like a newborn rancor, my cyar'ika?"

"No. That was the result of being raised with a brother, as you know."

"Oh, I do know," Ezra replied. "I met him, remember? Poor Tristan was all skin and bones, if I recall."

I swatted at him. He let out a bark of laughter and pivoted to the side, avoiding my hit. "Go get my food, husband mine. Or you'll see how a baby rancor reacts when deprived of sustenance."

With a teasing grin, he gave a mock salute and headed for the elevator. A minute later, I heard the tell-tale grumble of a speeder engine starting and then the familiar swoop sound as it sped off into the distance towards Capital City.

Sighing, I returned to my repairs -

A chime came from the communications console, indicating a visitor.

I frowned. Had Ezra returned already? I didn't hear the speeder.

I got up and walked towards the console to press the intercom. "Did you forget your credit chip, di'kut?"

The response was laced with sardonic amusement. "Hello, Wren. It's been a while."

I froze at the voice, familiar but not in a way that invoked pleasant feelings; it was familiar in the way that a warrior knew the sound of a knife escaping its sheath or the sound of a blaster powering on.

"What do you want?" I asked, keeping my voice steady. Already my mind was racing, racing with horrible thoughts of Ezra and Mira.

"There's something I need to show you. May I come up?"

"No," I said firmly. "I'll come down to you."

"Sure," she replied. "It will be like old times."

I grab my lightsaber off a nearby work bench before heading down to see why Shin Hati had come to visit.

_ _ _ _ _

I have nightmares about this sometimes.

In my nightmares, she and I are dueling again. That cold night, years ago, after I had just unlocked the map to Ezra.

I beat the assassin droids and give chase to her, like always. She is wrapped in a cloak, blacker than the night surrounding us.

Her lightsaber blazes scarlet in the dark courtyard. I activate my own - and strike, my emerald meeting her scarlet in a blaze of sparks.

And then, in the nightmare, I stumble. My blade swings wide and I am left defenseless for a critical second.

Shin's blade comes down in a vicious arc, right through my exposed neck.

And I wake up, in a cold sweat. Ezra doesn't ask, he doesn't need to. He just wraps me in his arms and gently lulls me back to sleep.

This isn't my nightmare, however. But a part of me still feels the hot blaze of a blade made from pure plasma erupting in my gut.

Shin Hati stands across me in the tower's courtyard in broad daylight. Next to her is a speeder, sleek and shiny with fresh chrome. She's dressed in gray combat fatigues with a black bolero jacket worn over it. Her platinum blonde hair is longer now, tied into a short ponytail.

I probably don't look all that intimidating to her, now that I think about it, covered in an old flight uniform that's seen better days. But I hope the lightsaber hilt gripped in my hand is enough to make her cautious, at the very least.

Her eyes pierce mine with a wolfish stare. Finally, she shakes her head. "Well, you didn't have to dress up for me," she said.

"You should have called ahead," I replied. I made sure that my thumb was right over the activation switch on the lightsaber hilt. "I would have freshened up."

Shin cocked her head. "Thinking about it now, you didn't look that good last time we met like this."

She smirked. "Remember?"

An old searing pain ached in my abdomen. The scar.

"What do you want?" I demanded.

She slowly pulls from her jacket a holo-puck. "You need to see this."

"Toss it to me."

Shin complied. I caught it deftly, my eyes never leaving her face. She didn't move immediately for a weapon. I felt some of the tension drain from me - but not much.

"Play it," she urged.

I did so. The holo-puck emitted a recording, the blue static focusing into something sharper -

Something in my chest tightened and I felt myself inhale sharply. The recording was of Ezra and Mira.

From this morning. I watched the miniature holographic forms of my husband and child play out for a few more seconds - Ezra giving our daughter a hug before waving her off to the Academy - before the recording fizzled out in a shower of sparks.

I winced, dropping it. I realized a second later, seeing the warped and twisted metal, that I had squeezed it so hard that it broke.

I looked back at Shin. Something in my face must have spooked her because the former mercenary took a step back with her hands up, palms facing outward, in a placating gesture. "Wren, I promise. This was not me."

"Who?" I asked. The voice that came out was cold, colder than a winter on Krownest.

"Bothan private investigator. Their name - "

"I don't care for a name," I hissed. "Where are they right now?"

"I took care of them. They won't be following your family anymore," Shin said quickly. "But, more importantly, their employer is someone you know."

My teeth ground against each other in frustration. "Say it."

"Senator Xiono. He hasn't given up his personal crusade against you and your husband."

My stomach dropped at the name. Xiono.

He had already been a paranoid, suspicious politician before Thrawn had returned. The Imperial warlord's campaign against the New Republic had brought his planet's people nearly to ruin - and his wife had suffered grievously during the Grand Admiral's bombardment. Beset with grief and rage, the senator had railed against the Security Council for their failings - and had taken up a special fixation on myself and Ezra, who were caught in the middle of that mess.

There were only a handful of people who were aware of my involvement in Thrawn's return: Ezra, Hera, Leia, Zeb, Kallus, Ahsoka, and Chopper (no one actually told the astromech, he just figured it out all by himself). All had sworn to keep it secret, to protect me - despite my insistence against doing so.

But Xiono never gave up his line of inquiry, I knew. Chancellor Mothma had strong armed him to stay in line, but I always suspected that he continued to probe whenever he could.

The senator blamed Ezra and myself for what had happened to his home planet - to his family.

And he wasn't entirely wrong, a dark voice whispered in my mind.

But this was a new low.

My anger threatened to erupt from my chest, bellowing and screaming to the Lothal sky with all my pent-up rage.

Shaking, I asked Shin, "Why are you helping me?'

"I'm not helping you," she said, watching me carefully. "Your daughter deserves to have a family. I would not see her lose either of you, if it was within my power to prevent it."

I blinked, my rage momentarily forgotten. "I . . . I really don't know what to say."

Shin shrugged. "My job here is done, then." She took out her comm-link and proceeded to input a series of commands.

My own comm-link, hanging off my belt, chirped with an alert that a message had been received. I checked it quickly.

"What is this?"

"A place and a time," she responded. "The senator is expecting to meet his private investigator there. I thought you might like to meet him instead."

I considered briefly what Ezra would think. But he wasn't here.

"Thank you," I said. The rage came swarming up again, hot and eager. "I think I will."

_ _ _ _ _

The establishment was on the seedier side of Capital City. A dive, made from the wreckage of several TIE fighters clumped together, that served pirates, drunkards, and other sentient beings of dubious repute.

It was the perfect place for an incognito meeting, considering all the noise and ruckus.

A cloaked figure made his way hurriedly through the crowd, heading for a stone table enclosed in a dimly lit booth on the opposite side of the room. Another figure, slender and hooded, waved him over.

With the utmost discretion, Senator Xiono slid into the booth, huffing slightly. "This update had better have something good," he snarled to the booth's other occupant. "My contacts said you were one of the best, and I have yet to see anything of interest other than what color shoes Wren and Bridger's daughter wears to school!"

I lowered my hood. "I'm sorry you find my family so boring, Senator," I said.

To his credit, Xiono did not scream. His face went bloodless and pale, his lip trembled, his eyes widened - but the man was otherwise quite still.

Somewhere, amidst the storm of rage swirling inside me, I felt mildly impressed.

"Wren," he whispered. "Why are you - "

I placed my hands on the table with a gentle thump. Finally, he flinched.

I smiled, showing my teeth. "Do you read Mandalorian literature, Senator?"

He stared at me - and then, the faintest of sneers appeared on his face. "I wasn't aware your people had literature."

The sneer told me that he had been emboldened by my empty hands. But there were other ways to make someone afraid, I knew.

I nodded. "That's a fair point. Most of it was lost in the Purge. But the best stories always survive through word of mouth. Have you heard of the great Mandalorian warrior of legend named Akilles?"

"I have not." The disdain dripped off his tone, so thick I could almost see it congealing on his lips.

"Shame. You see, Akilles had a friend - another great warrior. One day, he found out that his friend had a mortal enemy, who swore to vanquish them. Akilles, upon finding out, proclaimed that there is no greater enemy than the enemy of his friend."

The ghost of a smile twitched on the senator's face. "Well, it seems that this Akilles and I agree on that."

I let my smile widen, showing more teeth. "Akilles went to confront the mortal enemy of his friend. And he gave him one warning."

I leaned forward; Xiono leaned back, as far as the booth would allow him. It wasn't much.

"There is no weapon; no army that can protect this enemy from the sheer hell that is Akilles rage."

"And," Xiono whispered carefully, "what happened to this enemy?"

"Akilles ran his sword through his gut. And then dragged his dead body throughout the streets of Sundari."

A chill silence fell between us in the booth, only interrupted by the occasional burst of laughter and conversation from the other diners.

The senator swallowed hard, his eye twitching. "What . . . might this enemy have done differently to avoid such a fate?"

I seized the front of his cloak and pulled him half across the table. He yelped, his hands scrambling, clawing for freedom but I ignored his feeble attempts at defense.

I stared into his wide eyes, unblinking. The fury within me seethed and poured molten fire into my next words.

"He could have left the planet. When he still had the chance." At the last word, I threw him back into his seat. He sagged, whimpering something incomprehensible.

I swept from the booth and went home.

_ _ _ _ _

"Mama!" yelled Mira, as I stepped from the turbolift. My daughter jumped into my arms.

"Hello, cyare," I said, squeezing her close. "How was the Academy?"

"It was a lot more fun than I thought. Made lots of friends - and a couple enemies, too," she added, almost as an afterthought.

I looked to Ezra. He shrugged. "I've already gotten some reports from the principal. She was standing up to some bullies."

I sighed and ruffled her hair. "It's a Wren specialty to have some archenemies wherever we go," I noted to him.

He snorted. "Don't I know it."

Mira squinted at me. "What's an 'arch-nemony'?"

I poked her in the forehead. "What, they didn't teach you that in linguistics class? Or, let me guess, you were too busy doodling in your sketchbook to pay attention?"

My daughter scrambled from my embrace. "I just remembered that I have to do homework. Gotta go now!"

I shook my head, amazed at her speed. "Never seen her so excited to do homework. She's hiding something."

"Yup," Ezra said. He glanced at me. "She's not the only one."

I kept my face still, turning to hang my cloak on a nearby coat hook. "What do you mean?"

"Sabine," said Ezra patiently. "Don't hide things from me. It doesn't work."

I scowled at him. "You know, sometimes it sucks being married to a Jedi."

"It's not the Jedi part that's telling me you're hiding something. It's the husband part."

He folded his arms. "Out with it. You were acting weird after lunch and then you vanished with barely a word."

I looked at the door leading to my daughter's room, biting my lip. "Can we talk about this outside? I don't want Mira to hear this."

I felt Ezra's worry rise considerably at my request, but his expression remained calm. "Of course."

Once we stepped outside, I spilled everything to Ezra. All of it.

When I finished, he let out a hiss of air and leaned against the balcony railing.

I went next to him, looking out over the view of Lothal's plains of grass and the glowing lights of Capital City in the distance.

"Bad, I know," I said quietly.

He reached out to take my hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "We can handle it. But next time, let's do it together, okay?"

As always, my husband's simple enduring faith in a better tomorrow continued to surprise me. "You're not mad?"

He snorted. "Mad at what, Sabine? You being yourself?"

I looked at him, smiling slightly. "You agree with what I did?"

He grimaced. "No . . . but I get why you did it."

My husband gave me a knowing look. "It won't keep him quiet for long. This will just fuel him to dig harder."

I nodded. "I know."

My voice hardened. "But he needed to know, Ezra. What it means to cross my family. Maybe, at least, he'll aim his fury at me next time - and not at you and Mira."

Ezra stood to look me directly in the eye. "Our family, Sabine. Promise me you won't go after him again. Not by yourself."

"I can't - I can't lose you. Either of you," I pleaded. "I can't bear it."

"It won't happen. If he comes after us again, we will face it together. I want your word, Sabine. Swear to me."

I let out a shuddering breath, feeling all the negative emotions escape with it. Then, quietly, I reached out for his hand and brought it to my heart. "I swear on my word and my honor as a Mandalorian," I said.

His blue eyes searched mine - and he nodded once, satisfied. "Okay."

"I'm sorry," I said. "What I did, all those years ago - it won't ever stop haunting us, will it."

"Don't be sorry," he replied softly. “You are worth it. Always. We will find a way."

I didn't know what else to say. I just hugged him close.

We stayed that way for a while, swaying gently with the evening breeze.

Then: "Ewwwwww."

I rolled my eyes. "Aren't you supposed to be doing homework?"

"It's finished," Mira said, sounding bored. "I want to play now."

Ezra smiled, shaking his head. "Too smart for her own good," he muttered to me.

"No such thing," I said, mildly offended. "Too smart for her own peace of mind, well, that's a more factual statement."

"And our own," he added.

I grinned. "Wouldn't have it any other way, would you?"

"Nope." His smile lessened for a moment. "We had such a busy day. I'm sorry you didn't get a quiet night, like you wanted."

I gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Ah, this is much better. There will be other nights."

"Promise?" he asked.

"Promise," I said. And we went inside, together.

_ _ _ _ _

I used to be a morning person.

I used to relish being awake in the early morning, watching the galaxy stream by in lines of stars, feeling invincible and young.

I watch my husband and young daughter sleep on the couch, her body sprawled across his lap in the boneless way that only youth can manage.

I don't feel young anymore. Or invincible.

I've traded that away for this. And, yes, it brings fear, and heartache, and the seeds of future joy.

That's life, as I've come to learn. Today was an odd day, full of challenging events, both big and small.

And it was not yet over. I snuggle close to my family - my two hearts, beating in quiet rhythm with one another - and prepare to fall asleep.

Tomorrow is another day. And I will meet it with both of them.

[theprinceofliones]

List of MY OWN PERSONAL LGBTQ 4KOTA/NNT HEADCANONS PT1/?

(Again, for those who can't fucking read, this is MY OWN PERSONAL headcanons and NO ONE ELSE'S! You do not have to agree or like my own personal headcanons, but please respect them thank you besties 🤪)

(ALSO! I will say that there are some flags that I made sure to look up and research to make sure everything is accurate! But, if something on here is NOT accurate nor used correctly, I'd love it if you guys could let me know and keep me educated! Thank you!)

Tristan

My boy is transfeminine and a PROUD bi-mlm (bi w/pref for men) icon 🥰 While he was born with male pronouns, he's very feminine leaning but doesn't really mind any pronouns used for him, so he's a little agender as well. He's found that he is attracted to both genders but most definitely prefers men (COUGHS LANCELOT COUGHS).

2. Lancelot

GAAAAAY!!!!! This is a one hundred and twelve thousand percent GAAAAAAAY man right here. But, in saying that, he's is ALSO aromantic as he has an extremely hard time forming a romantic bond with another person whatsoever. Sure, he'll go out and have fun with other guys from time to time, but he's never felt any romantic feelings for another, everything is just purely sexual whenever he has these 'encounters' (...enter one Tristan Liones. and Lancelot's whole world is flipped upside down).

3. Percival

AAAAA Percy my beloved 🥰 my boy is proudly Pansexual! He'll find himself being attracted to anyone no matter how they identify! All that matters to him is what's in your heart. But, he's also demisexual as he very rarely forms sexual attraction to those around him. He DOES have a big fat ginormous crush on Naisens though! Although he doesn't really realize it lol.

4. Gawain

GAWAIN MY BUTCH LESBIAN ICON!!! She's VERY much into women and women ONLY! She's never had an attraction to men, in fact she thinks that the whole world would be better if there were only women (oml same queen). She's not a very feminine leaning lesbian which is why I assigned her the butch lesbian flag! She prefers to present more masculine-like as she wants to be seen as strong and dominant, but does not identify nor use male pronouns.

5. Naisens

That kid is non-binary all the WAAAAY and Nakaba PLEASE you have the chance to do the funniest thing ever and make it canon with Naisens PLEEEEAAAAAASE. Post-time skip Naisens uses they/them pronouns and dresses more neutral to not assume either or any gender. They're also pansexual! Any gender, any sexuality works with them as long as your name is Percival LMFAO

Part 2 will come soon! I want to try and do as many characters as I can! Stay tuned and I'd love to hear your guys' OWN headcanons as well!

[asterefflores]

Hello Aster....

Im the who gave the idea of the twins argument..

Now i have another idea

Please save me😂😭

You know I was just thinking about what would happen if Roksoo just wake up in the middle of the night and feel his body is burning because he's having a fever but he just ignore it and then Cale would wake up by his moans in sleep because he was sick and having nightmares at the same time...

So.. yeah..

with the presence of daddy Tristan Please ����❤️

Sorry for giving you trouble and Thank you so much😭❤️

Daddy Tristan must be with them in every request now I think lol xD

------------------------

Cold, it was freezing cold…

His body went numb and even stopped shaking at some point. He wondered if this was how he would finally die.

People hurriedly walked past the alley to their homes to avoid the coming storm. It wasn’t like they hadn’t noticed the child lying on the floor curled up on himself, looking too frail and barely alive. Their glances lasted less than a second.

He hoped for a little bit of sympathy. Having an extra layer to wear would be appreciated. However, it appears that people have become accustomed to seeing homeless and dying people on the streets.

Perhaps he couldn’t say people were cruel for this. Surely, ignoring poor people didn’t come naturally at first. He himself had met some particularly obscene and desperate beggars who had come to be viewed as a potential danger to anyone showing a moment of kindness.

He never thought of excusing those people in the past; a kid wouldn’t be able to understand all sides of society. He only focused on surviving and avoiding getting beaten up. He could steal some clothes and food from shops around, but he hates pain. Scamming was much better, but he couldn’t move an inch now after getting ganged up by some teens who couldn’t find a stray cat to bully as their daily routine. Instead, they found a stray kid and probably thought, ‘Even better’.

Now he was all bruised, and he was too tired to try and find shelter for the night. He wished for one person to feel a bit sorry for him, but the streets soon became empty, and there was no one to glance his way anymore. There was no use to keep his eyes open in hopes that anyone would come his way to help.

Even though he probably should keep his eyes open in case other bullies would target him on a whim again, he was too tired.

His eyes slowly closed…

He lived long, yet he still found it difficult to survive once again in a dirty alley with a body of skin and bones.

The storm arrived, and he barely even flinched under the torrential downpour.

However, he didn’t know if he was starting to imagine stuff, but he felt warm below the water that pooled from the rainstorm, or was he dying?

If this is how death feels like, then perhaps he should’ve given up long ago…

“Mhm…”

A quiet sound escaped him as he basked in the warmth at last, feeling at ease as he was drowned underwater.

He felt incredibly light, as if his soul was finally set free. He was floating away and safe from everyone…

“—ung…”

Wait, how is he a kid again?

“—yung…”

Where are his Ancient Powers?

“Hyung…”

“…mmh…?”

The muffled sounds of drowning were suddenly gone when he opened his eyes, though he strained to keep them open before he finally gave up after a few tired blinks.

“…hmm…?”

Why can’t he form a single word? Why does his body feel heavy and cold all over? Why is it hard to move even his jaw?

He soon felt like he was suffocating. He noticed his shallow breathing…

“Hmm…” he made a quiet sound with his eyes closed, appreciating the cool hand that came to rest on his forehead.

“Gentle Human, is the Human still having a nightmare…?”

He heard Raon asking quietly, sounding worried.

“I think he’s awake now, dear. But…he has a fever…”

‘…was I making noises in my sleep?’

Rok-Soo heard Cale softly speaking to the kids while seemingly tapping on some device, almost whispering so as not to disturb his hyung even though his hyung was awake indeed.

He gulped as he thought of speaking, and he slightly frowned in pain at how sore his throat was. ‘I really have a fever?’

How was that possible? What about the Vitality of the Heart?

“Hyung, I called Dad. He’ll be here in a second— ah, here he is.”

‘Right, we decided to spend the night in the tower…’

He could feel at ease with Tristan around. Their dad somehow always manages to solve their issues fast, after all.

Just as Cale announced, Rok-Soo felt another presence calmly sitting by his side on the bed. He felt another hand patting his head gently.

“…something is restricting his Ancient Powers, it seems.”

His eyebrows were slightly furrowed with his eyes still closed at hearing Tristan.   

“Probably the effect of a malfunctioning device in the tower,” Tristan explained, standing up calmly after, “I’ll go take a look quickly.” He walked back to the teleport podium and looked at Cale, “Don’t let him drink or eat anything yet, not even water. It may worsen his condition.”

“I understand.”

Tristan offered a little smile to Cale and the kids, “It won’t take long.”

He left as soon as they relaxed their expressions.

Rok-Soo felt the bed dip a little on his left. The hand on his forehead moved to his chest just above the blanket, patting lightly.

Pat, Pat…

‘…is dongsaeng using magic?’

The action made him feel less cold. It felt nice and comfortable. He could drift back to sleep with this…

…he heard little, soft murmurs from the kids, and it all helped lull him to sleep eventually…

This time, he dreamt of his brat of a dongsaeng joking beside him with the kids before sleep, teasing him with light pats on his chest and the kids mimicking him as they patted his head and cheek with their paws.

He kept sighing, smiling and laughing while they played silly again, as they always do every night.

The rest of the dream was a haze when he suddenly opened his eyes and found the gentle sunlight streaming in through the windows on his right.

He blinked blankly, lying still and staring at the ceiling. The room was as comfortably quiet as usual, with the kids sticking to him in their sleep.

“Good morning.”

He looked to the door at the whisper to find Cale just entering the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

“…did I have a fever?” Rok-Soo asked as Cale walked toward the bed, showing his easy smile as if nothing had happened.

“Yes, you did, it wasn’t a dream.” Cale answered and sat on the chair beside the bed. “Dad came back half an hour later and said it shouldn’t take long for your Ancient Powers to help you recover soon. Minutes later, and your fever was gone.”

“I see.” The whole night feels like a blur in his mind now. It’s been so long since he last fell sick, so it was almost a foreign experience now after all those years. “Why are you smiling like that?” He finally asked when the brat kept smiling strangely with amused eyes.

“I just wonder, what were you dreaming about? You kept smiling the whole time in your sleep before you started laughing.” Cale chuckled so as not to wake the kids, “The kids called Dad again. They told him to come check again because you were probably possessed.”

“……”

Cale started giggling quietly as his hyung sighed.

“Dad effortlessly convinced them they should get to sleep because their worrying souls are the ones disturbing you, so Raon used magic to make the three of them sleep until I wake them up.”

“……”

Rok-Soo just sighed again while his dongsaeng laughed at the whole thing.

He pretended later to have forgotten what he dreamt about, and of course, neither Cale nor Tristan believed him, probably even the kids.

.

.

.

[breella]

Tristan Fic Idea: maybe they are always super cuddly where he is always pulling her to sit on his lap and kissing her cheek and neck but have never crossed the friend line then he invites her to come to a party at the house and she sees another girl kiss Tristan so the reader just leaves and doesn’t say anything to anyone and Tristan keeps texting her to see where she is but she doesn’t reply and just starts to ignore him till he just shows up at her house being like what’s going on and she tells him she needs some space from him because she has feelings for him but needs time to get over it and he is so confused because he’s in love with her and doesn’t understand what’s going on and she tells him she saw him kissing someone else at the party. And he explains it was all a misunderstanding and the drunk female kissed him out of no where and he tells her he’s madly in love with her and it can end with some smut

Thank you so much for this request! It’s fade to black instead of smut! Sorry! If you want a part 2 let me know!

A/n: I haven’t edited this yet. Sorry for any mistakes! I’ll try to edit later!

Anywhere

You and Tristan had been close for a while. The two of you spent a lot of time together. You cuddled on the couch while watching movies. You had fallen asleep in his arms on more than one occasion. He regularly pulled you into his lap and kissed your neck. He always greeted you with a kiss on the cheek. The two of you hadn’t actually tipped over the line of friendship yet but you thought you were close. Over the last few months your feelings for him had grown and you thought he felt the same way. He was always texting you good morning and goodnight. He invited you to every party or trip to the club. You really thought he was going to make it official soon. You weren’t surprised when a text came through from him inviting you to a party that night.

Tristan ❤️: party at the house tonight. I’d love to see your beautiful face there.

Y/N: I guess I don’t have anything better to do 😉

Tristan ❤️: what could be better to do than me? 😏

Y/N: You’re insufferable. I’ll be there in a little while.

You laughed as you laid your phone down. Maybe tonight would be the night you two finally crossed the line. You began getting ready. You made sure your hair and makeup were perfect and picked out an outfit you knew he would appreciate. When you were content with your appearance you made your way to his place.

You opened the door and began making your way through the crowd of people. It was always packed. You began scanning through the crowd for a familiar face. Finally your eyes settled on Dec and his boyfriend. You made your way over to the pair. “Hi guys!”

“Y/n!” Dec exclaimed as he leaned in to hug you. “Glad you could make it.”

“Thanks!” You smiled. “Have you seen Flynn?”

“I think he went to get another drink. He’s probably still in the kitchen.”

You thanked him and went on to find Tristan. You checked the kitchen but he wasn’t in there. You turned to make your way into the next room when you suddenly froze. Across the room you spotted Tristan. Your stomach sank. He wasn’t alone. He was making out with a beautiful blonde female. You felt so stupid in that moment. You should have known that he didn’t have feelings for you. He was just naturally a flirty person and you read to much into it. You decided to leave. There was no way you could stay there and watch him with another girl. It hurt way to much. On the way to the door you saw Ruhn. He waved and started to make his way over to you. You just kept walking. You were fighting back tears and the last thing you needed was for anyone to ask why.

You made the walk back to your apartment in silence, not letting any tears escape. When you finally made it into you apartment you closed the door and sank down to the floor. Finally letting the tears flow. You needed to cry and get it out of your system and then you promised yourself you would be okay. After a few minutes you heard your phone buzz. You picked it up to see a missed text from Ruhn and a new text from Tristan.

Ruhn 👑: everything okay?

Tristan ❤️: you here?

You decided to just ignore them for now. You could figure out exactly what you wanted to say tomorrow. Tonight you just wanted to be sad and drink wine. Several more texts came through in the following minutes.

Tristan ❤️: Ruhn said he saw you leave. Are you okay?

Tristan ❤️: I’m worried. Please let me know you’re safe.

Tristan ❤️: let me know where you are and I’ll come to you.

You scoffed. Why should he care where you are or how you are? He obviously wasn’t concerned about you when he was kissing that other girl. You got several more notifications on your phone but decided to just ignore them and not even look. You got up from your place on the floor and walked to the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of wine. You took your wine to the couch and decided to catch up on the latest episode of Fangs and Bangs. A few minutes later there was a loud bang on you door.

“Y/N! Y/N are you home?”

You sat frozen trying decide what to do. You didn’t know if you were ready to face him but you knew you’d have to do it eventually. You sighed and said “just a second.” You ran to the bathroom to wipe the mascara off your face before going to open the front door.

“Why haven’t you been answering your phone? I was so worried about you!” He said as he pushed his way through the door into your living room.

“Tristan I-“ you paused trying to gather your thoughts. You looked away from him as you finished your sentence. “I think I need some space for a while.”

His face fell. “Space? What do you mean you need space?”

“I love you, Tristan. I thought you felt the same way, but then I saw you tonight kissing that other girl. It hurt. It’s hurts so bad, and I just need time to get over it. I’m sorry if-“

“Y/n please let me explain.” He interrupted. You just looked at him letting him go on. “I’m so sorry you saw that and felt that way. I would never intentionally hurt you like that.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize. I just need time to work through my feelings.” you sighed.

“No, let me finish.” He says placing a finger under your chin and forcing you look at him. “She kissed me. She was drunk and kissed me out of nowhere. I froze for a second but then pushed her away. I told her I wasn’t interested. I love you y/n. I’m so madly in love with you. I have been for a long time. You’re all I think about. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

You stood on your tippy toes and crashed your lips into his without thinking. He immediately kissed you back. His tongue winning the fight for dominance. His hands started roaming your body while yours snaked in his hair. He lifted you up so your legs were wrapped around his waist. His lips moved down to your neck and you thought you were going to melt. He broke the kiss to growl “bed or couch?”

“Anywhere” you moaned.

[sea-of-dust]

Aigami x GN! Reader

There's no summary my demons won. Wrote this during April fools watch it come out 3 months later.

Upd: it's july.... it's also my birthday🔥

He'd be on edge when he first meets you. As soon as you took interest in him he's already thinking that you might know something about the Plana. When finding out you're just someone interested in him he'd continue on with his act, would judge you without saying a word, but still hungout with you.

He'd fall hard, realizing it after a while but to everyone else it's aggressively obvious, the way he stares at you while you two talk and sudden dropping of the act around you kinda made it obvious to everyone in that classroom. "Aigami, did you get anything he just said?" "I did, not that I'd give it to you" he continues scribbling down the notes. "I know you remmber" he smirks to himself narrowing his eyes "and if I didnt?" You glare at him "I'll ask Bakura" never fails to get him to help you

He would get a little jealous, your one of his friends totally not crushes, you shouldn't talk to Joey for more than two secounds and not expect a certain cube person to just slide in and add nothing to the conversation just staring into Joey's soul. "It's too hot in this mask" "drink this" "ah thanks y/n AHHH" he jumps back covering his face, the mascots stuffed arms blocking him from view. "I can take this anymore, please buy him eye contacts" "I think he'd still do that" you sweat a bit

You got the pleasure of being the first person he asked for almost anything. "What's this?" He shows you a small toy with "B'LOONIES" in colorful bubbled letters near the top. "These you kinda blow into a straw and it makes plastic bubbles" "I see" this would also extend to certain brands, attractions, heck even games. You still told him about them without judging him, assuming he was just heavily sheltered. You'd notice this when you date him but he does stare alot at your face while you try to figure something out. When you're just friends the stares full of innocence and curiosity, as if excited for the answer, when you get closer to him however he looks with more uncaring eyes, still curious however lacking the child level curiosity as if only giving it to you just to watch and hear you.

He'd ask to go to places after school. Some girls talk about a spot? He's taking you. He dosent want you to go home even if you spend 8 hours a day with him just school alone.

"Do I exist in your thoughts?" "You're in all of them" a quick reply, no hesitation espically when you unironcally showed him a picture of him looking unenthusiastic with a cat filter on in your wallet. "Why am I right next to your id?" "You exist in my thoughts" You got him to crack a smile revealing a small crumpled up photo of you he had kept in his pocket, all cheerful with a different he clearly found stupid. "Where do you keep that-" he scoffs "you might exist in my thoughts"

He's not used to physical affection but one hug left him wanting a few more. So he starts greeting you with them, which shouldn't be as terrifying as it is. "Y/n!" He nearly tackles you a bright smile on his face. "Can you return my aigami please I think someone switched mine out" "?" He giggles at your joke making you a bit nervous. "Are you ok?" "I'm fine" "you sure?" "." You bring him back in no time

If you'd organize a date, Sera would try to hype him up while he'd just be internally panicking. Fiddling with an outfit he found while Sera smiles and details random ideas she had, about hand holding, winning prizes at fairs, sacrificing all of your known possessions. He'd have to tell her to stop a few times just so he could focus on what to do without images of you saying or doing exactly what she said

You two could go on dates only for Joey and Tristan to sneak around and watch. "Don't look but" you try to hold in your giggle and mumble your words, leaning in for him to hear you "Joey's wearing a wig and he thinks he we don't know it's him" you cover your mouth with a napkin trying to mutter the laughter, it was such a cheap wig and he didn't even put it on correctly it has just sitting on his head, Tristan didn't even bother he just wore heart shades he probably stole from Tea. They got the bill for your food

With you around, he let's his guard down by nearly every bit of it, leading to unfiltered Aigami momments. For example you allowing him to be a passenger on your bike. "Are you sure this is safe?" "Yea Joey does it all the time with Tristan." He carefully steps on gripping your shoulders for dear life. "You're gonna suck the life from me" "should have equipped seat belts" he enjoys the fresh air of a bike ride to school, the soft wind while observing his surroundings...before being blasted to next year by a down hill ride. He's not doing that again.

[dragon-queen21]

I need more content on your OCs

Ahh this is the nicest ask, I love talking about my babies :3 I really do want to start posting more about them so take some i to posts about a few of them

Tristan:

~Okay so little info, he’s a high elf who joins with the rest of my characters under a contract or service in exchange of protection for himself and his sister (insert paragraphs worth of lore here that no one is interested in- this is an agere blog I need to stop). Selectively mute as a trauma response, which puts off a lot of people, because elves already look down on other races, so most people first meeting him think Tristan is just being an arse. Really he’s just socially awkward and doesn’t know how to get along with people, or the right things to say.

~Middle space regressor 8-12 , who’s usually the one getting people into trouble. Because he thinks that what he was allowed to get away with as a child, is fine to be doing regressed.

~Mentally 8 year old who thinks it would be a great idea if he gave May matching ear piercings like he has! Yes, she’s mentally two years old right now, that probably isn’t something to be concerned about (It definitely is)

“I got mine pierced at dis age! Not fair!!” Captain Spurgeon who’s having to deal with a sobbing toddler (who mind you has survived much, much worse than a small prick to her ear) “Just because you could before, doesn’t make it a smart choice now” Tristan: “Your mean!” Spurgeon: “Why am I always the bad guy here?”

~Trying to dye his own hair small. It turns out orange. Tristan is crying, trying to bleach his hair again would be a terrible decision and he’s pretty sure he’s just going to hide away for the next two weeks until the color fades

~Moral of the story, he can’t be alone when regressed, especially not with another little around.

~Has a really rocky relationship with his dad Jilk, who’s trying to be better. Tristan is a lot more open when he’s regressed, not that he fully trusts his father. Jilk meanwhile is so scared that he’s going to somehow like, break his son. Little one wants to be held? It takes the elder a full minute to work up the courage to actually pick his kid up.

Laurence:

~Wow the actual canonical regressor in my (soon to be) series (Yes I am aware that any of my characters can technically be regressors, but a lot of it is just implied, whereas with Laurence I do write him a lot younger than his actual age

~Perma regressor to the ages of 5 to 7, other times he regresses to baby space

~A young boy with a gifted mask of a long-passed fox spirited. These powers creep their way into his physical form and he can often be found with ghost like ears and tails of the fox who cursed/blessed him. He’s always had a fascination in ghosts and tells others things that he shouldn’t have knowledge to.

~As much as anyone knows he’s Dustin’s younger brother, though he doesn’t refer to the elder by his name and simply the title of ‘brother’ There’s a running bet if he actually does know Dustin’s name or not.

~Usually his brother looks after him, though after warming up to the crew members it turns out he’s an absolute mama’s boy. He clings to Hannah because the avian reminds him of his bio mom.

~Carries a fox toy with him when he’s little and gets his brother to make his toy little outfits so that he can play dress up. Often trying to get the other littles to play make believe with him by ‘bribing’ them that they can pick any of his stuffies (besides his fox) to play with

~Still in that phase of having imaginary friends. It’s all fine and dandy until asked who went to get him a sippy cup or a bottle of his favorite drink (baby is not allowed to use the stove) and he says that  **** got it for him.

Captain William C. Spurgeon

~The owner of the largest flying trade ship in the known nations, the S.W. Tallow. He’s a gruff and stoic man, who’s closest friend is his first mate Gale. He only got involved in this group of runaways when asked to fly them across port (and sub sequentially stow them away on his ship and get his own bounty increased) And turns out it’s sort of nice to have the place feel alive again instead of having so many empty rooms with nothing but stock and crates to fill the space.

~Grumpy father figure who “didn’t sign up for this” He loves his kids, he’s just in denial of them being his kids

“Where the hell are my ki- I mean- the kids, the kids”

~Something, something sea captain who is afraid of water (the theory now is that he doesn’t know how to swim and possibly almost drowned before??? It doesn’t explain why he still travels the oceans though…) Doesn’t help with bathtimes, or if a kiddo wants to go wade into the shallows, even just grabbing a cup or water or tea he refuses- let someone else do it

~Makes homemade toys with old washed up pieces of sea wood, and macrame baby toys. Could probably carry around one of the teenagers for most of the afternoon and not even blink an eye at it. He’s known for his stories. Spurgeon has met mythical creatures only few whisper about, he knows about the depths of the oceans, he talks about forgotten history from hundreds of years ago as though he was there…

~The regressor’s listening are amazed, the adults who over hear however can’t decide whether to chalk it up to an old sea captain who has spent years accumulating a knack of storytelling for long trips spent with nothing but waves and sky for company, or if there’s something he isn’t letting them in on…

(Wow I wrote nearly a thousand words over just three characters. Yeah I’ve been developing this story for almost three years now, I have a lot to share hehe. Hopping to have my own book in maybe the next couple years :3 )

[icecreamisbetterwithafork]

Hello friends! It’s been a minute, I hope the summer has been treating you well. We have been busy with summer camps, playdates with friends, lots of gardening, cooking, and trying your stay cool in this San Diego humidity and heat, which as a native I never remember the weather being this hot or humid EVER growing up here as a kid! 

On the music front, there is much to be excited for on the horizon. For starters, I just released a beautiful collaboration track, Bobby My Friend, with an artist by the name of Leo Prakash. We met down at Playa Del Carmen, last December at a Wanderlust Palmaia. Leo was there for the week accompanying the yoga classes with live music and i was sitting in for a song, during the end of my friend Schuyler Grants yoga class, for Shavasana. Leo is an insanely talented multi-instrumentalist from Mexico, but grew up part of his childhood living in an Ashram in France. I was immediately captivated with his Sitar playing. We ended up chatting after class, and exchanging info with the hopes of doing a collaboration in the future. He ended up sending me this beautiful song for his friend, the late Bobby Klein, and asked me if I would like to accompany him on it. I loved this song from the beginning, and it was also a much different style than anything I have previously done before. The song was just released a couple weeks ago, give it a listen, I love it so much. 

Aside from that, I have some other exciting collabs coming out, as well as the new music I have been working on over the past 2-3 years co-written and produced by my friend (AND no biggie, one of my fav artists of all time!!!!), Trevor Hall. The first song of that project is set to drop at the end of this month. Stay tuned for deets and links coming soon! And definitely make sure you are following along on IG where I post the most, as well as following my artist profile on Spotify if you listen there, the song will also be released everywhere else music is available. I am so excited to share this new music with you all, it’s def a been a bit of an experimental sound and journey for me. But it has also re-awakened my creative process and flow. It feels unbound and intuitive and that in itself is exciting and inspiring. 

I will keep it at that for now, many of you have expressed your fondness for the days when I wrote my Tumblr posts, so I will try to do more of that! These days are a lot different from the ones when we were in our 20’s, i was on tour, single, free and wild! But if you have any questions or topics you would like me to touch on, I would love to be sharing things that might be helpful and useful. I took a step back from social media for the last couple years, because I realize how bombarded i/we are everyday with unwanted thoughts, opinions, and just all kids of stuff flying our way. I would really love to be sharing things that nourish and support this community and inspire a loving, kind, but also keep it real kind of connection. Life seems to get so much busier in the 40’s! So if you have any thoughts on that, please let me know! 

Sending love to all! Also, if you have reached out to get a bracelet and I haven’t responded, it’s because I literally haven’t had a moment to myself all summer with my kiddo not wanting to go to camp! Lol. I am planning to do another batch that will ship in September. I will email soon or email me again at info@tristanprettyman.com

As always thank you for being here! Big love - 💗

Tristan 

[starrrling]

TASK 006: THE TALENT SHOW [ ... encore ... ]

“Actually, wait, can I go again?”

Even at the heights of her alcoholism, Reece had always been sort of a lightweight: she’s been the same height since middle school, and she’s held her liquor like an (alcoholic) eighth-grader indefinitely. Seventh months of sobriety, though, had rendered her tolerance at an all-time-low, and she felt dizzy and warm almost as soon as she swallowed against the familiar burn of the liquor.

She floated her way through the final six performances; she was sickly, shamefully satisfied by the way the heat moving through her cells made everything feel better, exactly like she knew it would. Who had she been to try and pretend that she could suffer through a lifetime of white-knuckled restraint? Not every unloved child could grow up into somebody who’d been worth saving. She was, after all, her mother’s bastard daughter: an aberrant footnote at the end of somebody else’s better story. Why not drink?

After a few minutes, the shot settled, Reece’s cranium loosened, and all of the rest of it went away, leaving behind only the simple, salient question, something that didn’t make her sad at all: Why not drink?

Through Naomi’s knife-throwing, Vikram’s recitation of Pi, Natalia’s dreary Debussy, Reece floated, and she thought, Why not drink? And she didn’t know that she was going to sneak another shot until she did it, and she didn’t know she was going to take the stage again once everything was over until she did it, but once she was up there again, blinking against the light as if she’d woken up there, mid-sleepwalking, Reece understood that the entire evening was irreversible. She’d already stood up in front of everyone again, which meant that the worst thing she could possibly do would be not to make it count.

“Actually, wait, can I go again?” Reece interrupted what might have otherwise been the end of the talent show, not waiting for anyone to grant her permission—she was flailing in the focus, looking out at all of those sets of eyes, spilling irradiance like headlights, auspicious of roadkill. “Because I think I did it wrong, before. With the song. He didn’t even like that song,” she explained, with a derisive snort, as if she and Richard’s ghost and all of them in the room were in on some kind of inside joke at Reece’s own expense. “

I actually have a confession to have instead, if that’s cool, ‘cause I lied before, the other day. Mickey started talking about the last time she saw Richard, and I said the last time I saw him was July—I did see him then, on my grandma’s birthday—that story was true, I mean—but I saw him again, too, after that.”

There had to be some reason that she was telling them this, but she didn’t think it was absolution. She didn’t think. “Last time I saw Richard, it was the first week of August.” She’d made the drive with the brand-new six-month sobriety chip in her pocket—homemade, courtesy of Zelda, a shiny plastic party-store coin with three googly eyes super-glued to each side; one for every month since Reece got sober. “I drove up from Staten Island without calling first, and when I showed up here, he said, ‘Reece, what a pleasant surprise,’ and then I turned and puked on Jerry’s feet, instead. Now, I know what you’re thinking, ‘cause it’s what he was thinking, which is why I told him, ‘don’t worry, I’m not drunk! I’m just pregnant. Also, can I have 500 bucks for an abortion?’ He was quiet for the longest time—like, somebody was on the floor, cleaning my puke off of Jerry, and Richard was still just looking at me. I thought, my God, I’ve finally done it, Mrs. Tristan was right, I’ve given the poor man an aneurysm; I’ve killed him. But then he finally cleared his throat, and he went to get his checkbook. And then he went to get his keys." He'd driven him there himself, Reece silent in the passenger seat, unendurably grateful. "He let me crash here that weekend. And when I left, he, uh—he told me to… to take care of myself, and to… come again soon,” she said, her voice cracking, breaking off, rising up into a reedy, lachrymal pitch. “So, that’s, uh—that’s the last time I saw him.”

[rowanwriting]

— about;

hello, writeblr! my name is Rowan. I'm 32, bisexual, aro/acespec, nonbinary, transmasc (they/them), and an aspiring novelist. I'm also a part-time english undergrad and hopefully a future teacher.

I enjoy writing in quite a few genres, from contemporary romance to sci-fi to horror to fantasy, and I love trying new things in my work. my biggest challenge is actually finishing a wip, but I hope to get better at that with motivation from tumblr. I also enjoy dabbling in some fanfiction, especially when my original stories hit writer’s block. 

please feel free to join me on other social media, linked below. I look forward to getting to know more people in the writeblr community!

—links;

about // wip page // twitter // instagram // wattpad // archive of our own // gaming twitter // spotify // pinterest // nanowrimo

— works in progress;

lost in death —

Cassidy Sullivan is dead.

He's been dead for five years, watching his girlfriend move on without him. He's been dead for ten years, watching his parents mourn. He's been dead for thirty years, as the world changes around him and he remains the same, in the small apartment he died in. He's been dead for fifty years, and everyone has forgotten him.

Tristan Kent is a psychic.

More of a curse than a blessing, their so-called gift has ruined their life. Unable to go to school or work, they eke out a meager existence be exploiting their abilities from a small metaphysical shop. They don't believe in most of the things they sell, neither gods nor demons nor angels, but they know that something must be real, else they wouldn't be haunted.

When a regular client of Tristan’s volunteers them for a local ghost hunting reality show on the extremely haunted Wentworth Street House, Tristan takes the job only for the money. They have no interest in proving the supernatural to be real — they already know that it is. But the presence that haunts the house is like none they’ve ever sensed before, and their not sure what to make of that, save to find out more.

As the reality show commences, the ten so-called psychics come to exorcise the house. Tristan must discover who is genuine, who is faking it, and whether to help Cassidy resist expulsion. But there is more to the Wentworth Street House than even Cassidy knows, and soon he’s the only thing between Tristan and a sinister force that has remained hidden from his sight all these years.

the kraken —

Fifteen years ago, the love of Marisolle’s young life was discovered and brutally executed by her father, the Prince-Regent, for crimes against the Crown. Hardening her heart, the princess swore never to love again.

Now queen in her own right, married, and with children of her own, Marisolle is content, if not happy. She rules well and is beloved by her people, and her country is more prosperous than ever. But there are enemies on the horizon, and Marisolle soon must seek desperate help if her rule is to survive.

Theovold left his home almost ten years ago to join the queen of Mavacia in an arranged marriage. He loves his children, and adores his wife, even as he feels the deep chasm between them, the pain of a love lost. But his attempts at wooing her may come to a stop when Mavacia is attacked, and a new man comes into her life.

Vincenze is a pirate, nothing more and nothing less. When the Queen of Mavacia offers him a Letter of Marque, permission to sail under her name and banner, in return for his aid in the coming war, he knows that he cannot run from his past any longer.

And as Marisolle, Theovold, and Vincenze come together to face their enemies, the Sea Witch watches, pieces falling into place.

the beyond —

The year is 2284. Humanity has long ago risen to the stars, joining a galactic community of ascended species. No longer alone in the universe, the Helios Accord brought the countries of Earth together into one united government, The Sol Federation.

Emelyn Kane is a washed up soldier, a mercenary working solo. Born far from Earth, she spends most of her time on her ship, going from job to job and trying not to think about how she ended up disgraced and discharged from the human military.

When her ship crash lands on an uncharted planet, Emelyn believes her life, such as it is, has ended. But the planet is life bearing, inhabited by a sentient species. And the indigenous people, the Vescai, have strange abilities — abilities that have kept their massive empire hidden from the rest of the universe.

Even when she gets used to life on the beautiful planet she is now stranded on, Emelyn knows that she is the last person who should be seen as a vanguard of humanity, let alone an ambassador for the entire ascended galaxy.

As the Vescai debate her very appearance on one of their planets, Emelyn must decide if she wished to remain with them, or allow them to wipe her memory or send her home. But her choice might be taken out of her hands, as she soon begins to develop the very abilities the Vescai treasure.

the prince of stars —

A cursed prince must find and kill the fallen star that foretold his doom before his twentieth birthday.

Prince Riavyn is born under a falling star, cursing both him and the realm he is one day meant to rule. If he is ever crowned king, he will bring war and ruin to his country. At least, so long as the star lives. Now nearing his nineteenth birthday, Riavyn is more determined to be king than ever, despite being removed from the line of succession by his mother, the queen.

His only chance to regain his standing in the royal family and redeem himself is to seek out the living star, and kill it before nightfall on his twentieth birthday, when the astromancers say the curse will become everlasting.

Along with the captain of his guard, Riavyn sets out to hunt the star down, knowing that it’s his only chance to become king. But the curse is more powerful than he knows, and breaking it might have consequences he never imagined.

A star is not meant to die, after all.

[yarrystyleeza]

The North Star (T.T)

Tristan Thorn x female! Reader

No warnings, absolute fluff, maybe a little bit of angst? But happy ending. <3

Summary: you and your childhood best friend Tristan had to split ways in cause of your discordant lives, but you somehow try to find time for you to be together again, doing the thing you've always loved since you were children, stargazing.

Word count: almost 3k!

Writer's note: I wrote this in less than 24 hours so forgive me if anything dropped off the plot or doesn't make sense. But I wrote it with all my love, I hope you enjoy it. <3

Goddamn it, you've always hated waking up early, mornings are always exhausting, specially after spending the night stargazing from your window, looking at the beautifully dotted sky, the wide dark canvas that was decorated with the scattered sparkly little white jewels. They've always caught your attention, they made you lose conversations sometimes because you paid more attention to them than the person talking to you, and sometimes you'd walk into some tree or a wall for keeping eye contact with them. You'd miss them throughout the morning when the sun is covering their beautiful gaze against your curious irises, something about them was so magical, enchanting, keeping you thirsty for more, and you loved how they kept you wanting them at your sight.

That's why you hated mornings, besides the daily chores you'd do around the house, they make your hatred towards mornings becomes more of a rivals'... Well, except the mornings where your mother decides to send you to the market to grab some house needs, this would always make you jump out of your bed with excitement.

It's pretty much the same this morning, the sunbeams are blinding you through the window glass, playfully caressing your lids, you shift in your bed, trying to hide your face from the morning sight on you. Your mother chirps from behind the door, "dear, I need some groceries for this evening's treat, you need to be up!" you scramble out of your sheets and run to wash your face, heart fluttering like the wings of a young butterfly. Soon you're in your pretty floral day dress and fixing your locks in front of your mirror, you add the little star-shaped ornament to your gathered bangs, you put your leather shoes on and spring out of the room, taking your umbrella off the hanger on your way out of the house.

The summer breeze fills your lungs as soon as you open the wooden front door, you realize how pretty the weather is today, well, mornings aren't always that bad after all, you knew that fact deep down in you. You make your way down the hill to town of Wall, where you had lived your entire life till now, a small town with few people, cozy on winters, freshening on summers, you never thought of leaving it, you loved living here anyway, you knew you'd never find a place more peaceful than this.

Or, maybe it's because there was someone here that's always on your mind, the young man who works at the very shop you always shop from. That's why you've always loved the shopping mornings, you get a chance to meet your crush, and talk to him a bit about your shared habit, stargazing.

Your journey to the center of the town doesn't take much of power nor time, but you make it to the shop with raspy breaths, you support your body on the brick wall of the shop to take your breath, and the moment you felt your heart beating calmer, you turn immediately to get inside. Maybe the journey itself wasn't tiring, but the excitement that overwhelmed you was the reason for this unstable heartbeat for sure.

You stand in a not quite long queue waiting for your turn, when your eyes meet his, he smiles at widest and waves at you. It's been a week since you last saw him, he told you about the north star he's been gazing at for a while, and you told him you were gazing at it on the exact same night, too.

The line moves a little, and in less than an hour, you're finally facing him, "what a good morning, y/n! How are you today?" he cheers the moment you step in front of him, he can't help the loud blush on his stretched cheeks, "I'm good, you?" you try to look more chill and calm, "well I'm doing great that I got to see you today, is there anything I could bring you?" but instead, your face turns absolutely red at his answer, his smile is brighter than the summer sun, his eyes are sparkling with unexplainable joy. "I-- I have this list..." you search through your pockets, you find the paper and hand it over to him, he knits his eyebrows, his honey brown eyes are popping out, "well, that's a long list, sure you have someone with you to carry all this stuff?" your pouted lips answer his question, shake your head, "but I... I think I can make it on my own--" you argue, "wait a second," he cuts you off and runs to the back of the store

He's back in a minute, and he's gathering all the goods you ordered from around the shop in an act that's cannot be described in less than a haste. You're surprised by how fast he looked around the place, picking bottles and herb jars off the shelves, flour and potato sacks, chocolate, cheese, and eggs are quickly packed, he seems excited, to your surprise, but you keep watching him, with amusement.

He brings the groceries on the counter, "did I forget anything?" he's panting, looking back at the list in his hand, you shake your head with a wide smile, "no, no, not at all, you did amazing, Tristan!" you couldn't stop the redness from growing on your cheeks, and the wide grin that always forms on your sight in his presence, he exhales a shaky laugh. He passes out of the counter and picks the sackcloth bags and bolsters them to his chest, "Tristan, what are you doing?" you're surprised again, "I'm walking you home, you thought I was gonna let you take them there yourself?" he passes you, and you had no other choice but to grab the last bag and the end of your dress and try to keep up with his pace.

You and Tristan have been best friends since you were children, but as both of you grew up, your lives kind of got separated, his shifts at the store and your house chores and studies weren't leaving space for you to be together, and all the time that was available for both of you was the time you meet him at the store. Result of this, you don't get to stargaze together anymore.

"I've been reading this book about the North Star, they call her Polaris sometimes," he starts as he slows his pace a little to align with you, he parts his lips as if he's about to speak, but smiles, "she's always there at night, and she's always shimmery and you can find her from anywhere in the world," he catches a glimpse of you before continuing, "but I think that North stars shouldn't always be in the sky among other stars," he has his eyes aimed forward, "sometimes it can refer to a person, someone who is an actual guide, or someone who is believing in you," you couldn't help but think of him.

Tristan has always been supportive to you, never turned you down, always encouraging you to do the things you love. You wanted to be an astronomer, and you are halfway to achieving your dream because of him, aside from you studying hard for this dream, he usually brings you books about astronomy on the days you meet him at the shop, he'd take rests just to read with you, even though he gets his little salary deducted, and you'd tell him that he needs this money, but still he'd stay there with you just to enjoy the couple minutes of you reading together.

Eventually you make it home, you both walk up the hill and you knock on your door, your mother greets you and takes the groceries and pays him after thanking him for his genuineness. "y/n?" you were entering your house and about to close the door, you stop and turn to look at him, "yes, Tristan?" you can feel your heart jumping against your ribs as you think about how soft his voice was when he called your name, "we haven't went stargazing together in like-- months, maybe years, can we-- do it tonight? I-- I need to show you something I discovered... It's a-- um... " his voice is shaky a little, he's nervous, and the little hairs of his bangs are sticking to his forehead of all the summer sweat, "yeah, yeah! Tonight, of course," you too are excited, you chuckle, "picnic, tonight?" you ask, "yeah! Sounds-- sounds great, yeah, picnic, yes! See you then!" he nods with a couple giggles and turns away. He looks back at you for a last time before he walks back down the hill.

You continue on with your day, preparing for the treat your family hosted, and it was a busy, stressful time, but thinking about ending your day with Tristan, doing the very thing you two love the most since you were kids — together again, it gave you a sudden relief that you will get your own treat after all.

But still, you couldn't help but think about how nervous Tristan was this morning, he was garbled, tripping over his own words. You know he cares about you, but you're his friend, you know this, even if you feel so much about him, even if you actually love all of him and wish to the stars every night that he finally becomes yours and forget about that Victoria who never cared for him as much as you do, that you're willing to give him your heart the moment he asks you for it, but in the end, you knew that he's your friend, and might never be more than this.

This saddens you, but either way, you would be happy for him being happy, because you love him, and the circle spins around in your head.

The night falls faster than you think, and you are done cleaning the dining table after the guests have left. You beg your parents to let you go with him like you two used to, and after minutes of unstoppable begs, they let you go with Tristan. You've already made his favorite strawberry and cream cheese pie, you put it in the basket along with the other sweet treats you spent your morning preparing for him, imagining his wide smile and rosy cheeks and his startled talk, appreciating how much effort you put into this.

Your mind wanders a little further, imagining how he would fondly caress your cheek, how he would tuck a stray strand of your hair behind your ear, how he would brush your lip with his thumb and, how sweet must his cherry colored lips would be, as he would join them with yours.

You exhale your thoughts out of your lungs, knowing how too far they are from reality, you pick up your basket and head outside, and walk all the way down the hill towards the wall, since it was your favorite spot to stargaze from.

You find Tristan sitting on the plaid picnic blanket, and in front of him was a dinner he prepared for the two of you, your favorite baked stuffed potatoes, and a bottle of peach champagne, you smile and rush at him. The hug was... Different, so different from how it used to feel, you've always hugged him as a friend of yours, your best friend, but how you feel now is so different, it ignites something in you, unlocks a new path of feelings, the no longer kids, the path of the three words and 'I want to spend the rest of my life with you'.

You both sit down and spread the goods over the sheet, and as you expected to be, Tristan is over the moon, he's appreciating each cookie you crafted individually, and how you beautifully braided the dough on the top of the strawberry and cream cheese pie, and how amazing the brownies you baked are. You are overwhelmed with his sweetness, and you can't help but replay the thing you thought of before you came here.

You two start your dinner, and finish with some pie and biscuits. He pours you a glass of champagne as you lift your head up to talk to your befriended stars, asking them for a sign, a guidance, something that will tell you if you should continue or back away and maybe end all this pain in your chest for good.

"y/n, your glass," it's a little tilted between your fingers, almost spilling the drink out of it, "you're looking at her, right?" he nudges you softly with his shoulder, you sigh a little chuckle as you stare at him, "Polaris, she's beautiful, I've always thought I could live there one day, among them," you look up again, holding the glass in your right hand while supporting your body to the left one.

You feel a warm caress on the skin of your left hand, you look down to see Tristan walking the buds of his fingertips over the back of your hand in a motion so delicate, you look up at him to find his eyes fixed on yours, in a new way you never witnessed before, a way which sparks something in you.

"Tristan?" you try, but his innocent deer eyes were locked with yours. "y/n, I..." he pauses again, lips parted, he looks at your mouth, your hand, then back into your eyes. By this moment, you were fully aware that whatever you've been fighting back might be true. You put your glass down on the rug, tilt your body to fully face him, his breath is shaky, "Tristan, is there anything wrong?" is the only thing you could say.

"y/n, that night I told you that I was gazing at the north star, it wasn't any north star, it was my own north star, it was you, y/n. You are my North Star." he holds your hands close to his chest as he gazes your eyes with his vast brownies and doe-like lashes, "I couldn't find better words, I'm lost... I'm lost within you... You are my star, I don't think I need to stare at the skies to seek the sparkling that I only find in your eyes," Tristan has always been troubled with how to explain his feelings, but at this very moment, he is confidently staring into your curious eyes, and saying these beautifully knitted words, that created a loving sweater for sure it warms your soul.

Your mouth drops open, maybe surprised of how fast your prayers were answered, or maybe because this was even more charming than you thought things would be, but you were amazed, no doubt. The edges of your lips are slightly stretched, but you were too amazed to express a whole smile. "I'm sorry, y/n, I know I shouldn't 've said tha--" it was your time to take the move, you silence him wrapping your lips around his, in a casual fashion, your eyelids fall closed and, so does he.

This was better than you had pictured, the kiss was tender like his innocent heart, his lips were soft, sweeter than cherries, citrus stinging the tip of your tongue as you taste the peach champagne on his lovesome lips, the toasted nuttiness are swirling along with the sweetness of the strawberry and cream, feeling your heart swelling with a new feeling that you never thought of before, is this what they call love? You're sure it is now.

You part away from him, hiding your face behind your palms, "damn me, I'm so sorry, Tristan, I thought--" he cups your cheeks in his hands, silencing you by simply looking into your eyes. "y/n, my beautiful star, I love you... And I want you to be my North Star forever, my very own Polaris, will you be my North Star?" his shiny honey irises stared back at yours, despite the dim lights you were soaked in, you could see the reflection of yourself in his vast eyes, and if you look closer enough, you might see the stars you never thought of.

You softly nod, and a smile stretches across both of your faces, "yes, I will, I love you, Tristan," you finally say it, and that's when his lips meet yours, and you both mesh in the adoration that was kept within, slow, little, sweet, tinder kisses that might have been sent from heavens and straight onto your lips.

You part once again but this time, both of you are sure of what you're feeling. "I can't believe I just kissed the most beautiful girl," he hides his face as it reddened, you couldn't help but chuckle at how adorable he is, you caress his cheek, resting his chin in your forehand, "as if you're not the most beautiful boy in this world," he chuckles.

"can I ask you a question?" he asks, after lying you under the blanket of the sparkling sky and peppering your cheeks with all the lovely kisses he kept all those years — for long minutes you lost the count of, "sure?" you snuggle in his arms to the warmth of his chiffon shirt, "we're not 'friends' anymore, right?" you shift your head and look at him with knitted eyebrows, "just making sure." he chuckles.

Taglist: @mindidjarin @acharliecoxedfan @v4leoftears @itwasthereaminuteago @munsonownsmyass

Comment "💖" if you like to be added in my taglist.

I hope you all enjoyed it, if you did, please like and reblog it would mean a lot to me <3

I hope you all have a great day! <3

[callsignbaphomet]

So it's been a few days playing with Trevor on my Minutemen playthrough and reeeeaaaally dedicating to it. Playing also gives me the chance to develop characters for said AU which I have.

Like I said, Trevor and his little brother Tristan came across Garvey in Sanctuary which was not in the best condition. Apparently a vault dweller of some kind had helped them out but left to find a lost family member or some such and kind of forgot all about the group.

((To be fair, you're out looking for your kidnapped son and you don't have time for other shit.))

The Ravencroft brothers helped them out as best they could making the run down settlement look like an actual settlement. They saw how dedicated the people were to making it a livable place and even some newcomers were trying to teach themselves how to use guns to keep nasty shit away. Among the group was an ex-Gunner who tried her best to blend in but Trevor sniffed her out rather quickly. After a quiet sit down the ex-Gunner told him why she left and Trev appointed her as lead of security. Between Trev, the ex-Gunner and Preston they taught those that wanted to learn how to best defend themselves and their new home and as more people joined some were made into Minutemen.

Soon major settlements had training courses going and as they expanded so did the Minutemen. Preston had an eye for pointing out exceptionally talented Minutemen. Those were sent to Vault 42 for extensive training and soon an elite force was formed called Vault 42. Yeah, not very creative but whatever.

((Vault 42 was an old idea I scrapped, reworked, scrapped again and brought back for this. Basically was a small vault that was for government officials only. Government figured the enemy would think it obvious for government officials to hide in or around Langley or DC so they went elsewhere. Never happened. Vault was then taken over by some wastelanders about 50 years later but the group just vanished. 70 years later another group went in but they vanished as well. Minutemen found the place and took over. Most everything was intact. Lot of people stay away since they think it's cursed.))

Vault 42 is dispatched to take down those rougher and stronger raider and super mutant groups. They mostly work under cover of night and are silent. When shit's real bad Trevor likes to join to make sure things go smoothly.

It took years for the Minutemen to reform and even longer to become the formidable force they currently are.

Eventually The Syndicate (raider gang from Nuka World made up of descendants of MI6 and Interpol that went over to America from Europe) will join forces and integrate into the Minutemen but that's after the raider wars. Some stragglers from other gangs join them too. The Nuka World wars happen way after that.

Angelus actually plays a role in Trevor's group too! He's kind of a double agent since he's a former raider.

The Institute war was huge since the vault dweller had joined them and was then somehow given the keys to the Institute.

((The SoSu is an unknown and unnamed character since I don't have a SoSu. Hell, I don't have a Dragonborn, Lone Wanderer or Courier. I leave them as sorta mythic figures of unknown origin.))

Trevor and Tristan's pasts are also vague as fuck. Trevor came to Boston from who knows where, some people think he's an ex-Gunner, some think he's an ex-raider, some think he's a vault 75 descendant. Truth is no one knows and he and Tristan don't ever say. When asked they just make up some story every single time.

Still working out some kinks in the timelines but yeah, that's pretty much it. I don't want him being some sort of tyrant either. He gives people a chance and is willing to work with them and he puts in the work. He doesn't just sit in some bunker behind 10 walls of security while ordering others to go and do his bidding either. He wants to do the work himself. On top of that he wants to give people a chance to think things through before he pulls the trigger and that's something he wants other Minutemen to incorporate into their work ethic too.