#Rancid with Stubborn All Stars

[punkrockmixtapes]

Rancid - I Wanna Riot (with Stubborn All-Stars)

[secret-smut-sideblog]

Satiated

Astarion x F! Dark Urge

18+ violence, beheading, blood drinking, arousal at violence, sub/dom if you squint, p-in-v, sex with armor on, vulnerability, aftercare, complicated feelings, porn w/ very little plot, deranged shit and I'm not sorry

With Astarion starving in the Underdark his bloodthirsty friend sees his hunger, knows it quite well. And with a promised death in their future, seeks to help him sate himself...

-

Their time in the Underdark could have only been days but seemed to drag on endlessly. The lack of sunlight making him miserable. Snappy.

He knew he was being unfair when she asked quietly if he was alright and he scoffed at her. "Please. Spare me the coddling."

There was mild hurt in her eyes but she held her hands up in surrender. "Sorry, Star. I wont ask again."

He almost sighed, compelled to call her back and apologize. But he was nothing if not stubborn.

Honestly, the lack of sunlight was just salt in the wound. The true torment was hunger.

Nearly no wildlife available, and what was stalking around was not easy prey. If the blood in these beasts was any good anyway, he did not feel like risking life and limb every night to get some likely rancid blood.

Sure she had offered her neck a few times but she needed her strength, and it wounded his pride to feel like a charity case.

So the answer to his plight had been the spoils of combat. Any time they felled a duergar, a drow, he was draining the bodies dry.

The first few times his companions had shot eachother looks but she turned them by the shoulder, speaking quietly into their ears. Leading them away to let him feast.

He really did appreciate her, though he was struggling to show it recently. With her bloodlust he knew she understood on some level. Looked at him when he got like this with gentle recognition instead of disgust.

When they reached the Grymforge he felt delirious in hunger. Looking around at all the walking bodies, he could smell the blood.

He set his sights on the Drow, already promised dead to the Myconid's. A full meal. They just needed to get the idiot out of the rock fall and he could be sated.

When it finally came time to kill Nere and his followers he miraculously harvested all of his adrenaline and did his part, firing down arrows from on high. Watching her dance her violence into their foes.

Oh he did love watching her work. Her movements were always so joyful, a wide smile she didn't seem aware of splitting her face. Blades plunging so smoothly through chests, across throats. He adjusted his trousers as subtly as he could from his perch. Hearing her laugh, such a beautiful sound for such violent deeds.

Gods no wonder everyone was afraid of her. He should be too. And yet...

Afterwards the pleasantries were exchanged, the slaves freed, blah blah blah. His eyes were glazed over, all of his restraint focused on maintaining decorum. Mouth salivating, fangs aching.

His patience snapping, he connected to her tadpole. Hells below, can we PLEASE finish this up?

She glanced over at him, a small smile pressing the corner of her lips.

"Get out of here before I change my mind." She growled at the duergar.

"Astarion, help me with the head." She commanded. "Karlach, Lae'zel, take the remaining gnomes to the boats and make sure the path to the elevator is clear. We dont need any surprises."

"Aye, Soldier!" Karlach barked, Lae'zel nodding next to her.

"With me." She whispered, dark eyes meeting his. He raised an eyebrow slightly.

Surely she didn't need help with a beheading. He had watched her do much more strenuous violence quite easily. Ignored the twitch in his armor at the thought.

The Drow's slack form lay in a heap on the rock floor. He saw a shiver go down her spine as she straddled over the body.

"Sorry Astarion, we've got to do this first. Then we'll get you fed."

So she did plan to help him. Through the delirium he felt a tingle of fondness for her.

He could only nod, not trusting his saliva soaked mouth to form words.

She pulled her blade, chest heaving. Deeply aroused he realized, he could smell it radiating from her. He moved back to the shadows next to her to give himself some privacy as his own arousal spiked. The little remaining blood in his body pooling in his lower half.

She lifted the body to a sitting position, holding the torso steady between her knees, gripping the hair for leverage. Pressing her blade down on the throat.

He was confused by her technique at first. Surely it would be easier against the ground? Then realized what she was doing. Gravity. Keeping as much of the blood in the body as possible.

He stifled a moan, hunching over slightly. Gods he felt feral.

Back and forth she sawed through. Her eyes glazing over in pleasure. A slack smile pulling her face. Hips subtly grinding into the torso. Lost in herself.

He understood why she had sent everyone away.

When the head finally came free she gripped the scalp, smiling serenely. Free hand trying to catch the pooled blood pouring from the neck. Finding him in the dark.

Well? Her eyes said, pupils blown.

Shocked that he had forgotten his hunger for a moment he dove on the body.

Lapping and slurping he was lost. Laving his tongue along the plateau of flesh. Stopping to pull the pooled blood in her palm into his mouth, licking her fingers clean. Vaguely aware of a whimper from her lips.

Most of the blood gone from the wound he sank viscously into the lower neck, finding the base of the jugular. A tide of hot blood bursting into his mouth, rolling his eyes back. Oh gods he could barely stand it.

"There you go," She purred, pushing his hair out of his face. "You're doing so good."

His eyes met hers in a craze, a deep growl from his chest. The sensation of finally being fed and her soft words melding into something he had never felt before.

If he had more sense about him he might have laughed. From being forbidden from drinking from thinking creatures to being praised for it. The same person he had broken that chain with showering him with sweet words.

He gripped the body, his whole being focused on the singular task of getting more. More. More.

Some stray blood left his lips, dripping down the neck. Her eyes met it, lips parting.

Before he knew what was happening she leaned forward, licking it up in one small stroke. The tip of her tongue meeting the edge of his lip.

Did she...? Does she drink blood? He had never considered it but now it fired a piston of lust in his pelvis.

He pulled off of the wound, pressing his hand hard against it to keep as much in as he could.

Catching the nape of her neck and pulling her into his mouth roughly.

Pushing the mouthful he held into hers urgently.

He saw her eyes hitch back. Gripping his forearm. Throat working, moaning between swallows into his copper mouth.

Hells Below, he was going to go mad.

He latched back on, still ravenous. His eyes locked on her.

She stared at him with the same intensity. Eyes darting to the smeared blood he left in his wake. Back to his eyes. Her need apparent.

He pulled her by the throat to inches from his clamped down mouth. Pushed her jaw open roughly.

She whimpered hotly, tongue coming out to lave at his mess. Could feel the heat of her, their cheeks nearly touching.

Her tongue kept swiping at the seam of his lips as more blood slipped out. He nearly lost it when she devoted her tongue just to him, moaning sweet little calls against his jaw.

The vigor came back to him with a vengeance. The blood that wasnt fireworking across the base of his skull shooting straight to his pelvis.

The flow to his mouth getting weak he fell on his back, pulling the body over him. Loud choppy pants as he lifted his hips up. All decorum lost, he was vulgar in his need. The angle pushing the blood out. Pouring into his open mouth. Closing his eyes in deep ecstasy.

"Oh, Astarion..." She hushed, coming to kneel behind him. Her thighs caging around his head, looking down at him. Fingers running through his hair. "You've been so patient."

He nodded, looking up at her.

"You must have been so hungry." She reached forward, finger catching a stray drop traveling down his jaw.

"I'm sorry I made you wait this long." Parting her plush lips and licking it in. Seeing the edge of her tongue swirling around her fingertip.

Finally releasing the drained body he sucked his breath through his teeth.

Throwing it off of him he reached up, catching her face in both hands. Pulling her sweet mouth upside down into his. Drowning in her.

She cupped his jaw, kissing him slow. Searing. Pulling his lip into her mouth and biting softly.

He moaned into her, arching his head up for more. The blood sliding hot between their lips.

Gods she was so warm, so soft. It never failed to shock him just how heavenly she felt. Her hair falling curtain around his head. Her scent hitting the back of his throat. Jasmine, coffee, orange blossom. He wanted to be smothered by it.

Not able to stand it any longer he opened the fastenings on his armor, freeing himself from the painful cage of his arousal.

She pulled away slowly, a trail of their saliva between their lips. Looked at his length, his hand pumping along it, with lidded eyes.

Flipping she straddled over him, high on her knees. "Would you like some help?" She rumbled, fingers tracing along the fastenings on her own armor.

He nearly froze, sex was something he still felt... complicated about. And yet, he liked her. Really liked her. Trusted her. Or at least as close to trust as he could muster.

And Gods was he attracted to her, tall, curvy, scary. Very scary. Yet somehow still alluring, big doe eyes and soft plush lips. A mesmerizing contradiction.

He nodded. Gripping the chainmail on her hip.

"If we need to stop, say serpent. Okay?" She smiled, undoing the fastenings. Gods she wasn't even wearing underclothes, her perfect cunt hovering over him. A trail of wetness already pooling between.

"I like the choice of word. How devilish." He purred, watching as she lined herself up to him.

"Glad to see you found your voice again, Star." She smiled. Teasing his head in circles at her entrance. "What would I do without your voice drawling at my back all day?"

He was about to respond but she slammed her hips down. He almost saw stars, head thrown back.

"Mean." He gasped, to her evil giggle.

"Cant always let you get the last word." She smiled, trailing her hand tenderly down his cheek. His breath caught in his throat.

Her hips began to rise and fall. The cold bite of her armor against his hands his only anchor. The molten pressure of her cunt unbelievable. He was already panting.

"Gods you feel so good." She moaned, rolling her hips. Trying to hit the spot below her navel that he could find with his fingers. He arched his hips, saw her eyelids flutter, rubbing against it.

Her pace was slow, arching into him languidly. Pulling nearly entirely out then sliding back down, all the way to the hilt.

He was already writhing under her. Simultaneously needing her to pick up the pace but calling for his undoing if she did.

"While I'd enjoy riding you all night, we don't have much longer till our friends return." She mused. "So,"

Her hips began slamming into his, fast and angry.

He choked out a moan, the very same life that had been returned to him attempting to be pulled from his pelvis. Barely holding on.

He wouldn't come first. Reaching up to rub her clit.

"Gods your stubborn." She admonished, swatting his hand away.

"Let me help you find release, just one more time." She murmured, cradling the back of his head. Leaning down and catching the lobe of his ear in her mouth, nibbling and suckling.

Oh that was cheating. He groaned, hips fucking up into her hard. Nearly lost.

Her pleasure not being the forefront throwing him. Didnt she want to find her end?

"Please come inside me, Astarion." She whispered hot in his ear. Tongue licking a line up the sharp edge. "Please, beautiful."

He shuddered and with a great contraction behind his navel he was gone. Strangled whimpering moans, head thrown back. Gods above and below it felt like she was pulling his soul out.

Hips stuttering into her. Her's still rising and falling, wrenching him for all he was worth. He gripped fruitlessly at the rubble around them. Panting sharp little moans. Trying to find grounding in her chainmail thighs.

"Serpent," He groaned, the overstimulation too much.

Her hips stopped immediately. Pulling off of him and wiping him clean gently. Gingerly redressing his fastenings before hers. Her fingers sure but careful.

He stared down, dumbfounded. He had never had a lover attend to him before.

Felt the need to turn away from her, sitting up. Suddenly too vulnerable. Leaning his head into his hand, the heel pushing into his cheekbone.

"You okay?" She asked, attending to her own needs now. Tone kind and undemanding.

"You're just full of surprises, aren't you?" He quipped, glancing at her. Trying to shake his mask back on.

She laughed, standing. Readjusting her armor with a few jostling pulls. "More than any of us know, I'd wager." She sighed.

"Hey, I dont want you to wait until it gets this bad again. Lots of people need killing and it's my pleasure to help. Truly."

Reaching her hand out easily to help him up.

He looked up at her, framed by the light of the cave in opening. The burning heat halo around her head. Her face serious again but eyes still warm. "You with me?" She asked after a beat.

He clasped his hand around her wrist. "Always."

~

[genevawrenn]

Artificial Stars on Eclipsed Skies

Maybe soon, he’d be free of this cavern. Back closer to the skies he had been cut off from with a shred of hope he would see his family again. It was a desperate want, but with the appearance of the firefly he felt the smallest amount return. Perhaps there is a possibility he is lucky enough to lay eyes upon his world once more.

He felt his hold upon his sanity slipping, memories already burying themselves remembering the rancid feeling of rotting flesh between his teeth caked in blood. Holding close to the ones his soul called for, he hoped there was enough of him to save by the time he was freed from this pit.

~~~

Fit despairs in the cavern Madagio trapped him in while on a world far away a desperate man with an stubborn streak prepares to risk it all to save him.

[genevawrenn]

I have written 3 Hideduo fics *thus far* with hopes to write more in the future when inspiration arises.

Stay Awhile and Maybe Then You'll See (Different Side of Me)

"It doesn't matter if I get my memories back or not. It doesn’t matter if another demon gives me amnesia tomorrow. I know you: you’ll come find me again, you’ll come rescue me no matter what happens. You’ll come for me, and I’ll discover you all over again. I love you."

~~~

A non canon telling of Fit and Pac learning to trust and care for one another, mixed with a few of my own headcanons.

One Thing You Leave Behind is How Did You Love

Finding love in the hints of shaky music and heavy aromas of roses, in the hesitant new beginnings of a starting courtship seeing the worst of each other and still accepting them no matter how battered or broken. They are both on their first dates and their forever partnership, forced together by horrifying circumstances but finding sanctuary in one another's arms and words.

~~~

Fit realises just how much Pac means to him after nearly losing him to the haze of Federation medicine, dedicating himself to treasuring the one who trusted the anarchist to protect him, both healing along the way.

Artificial Stars on Eclipsed Skies

Maybe soon, he’d be free of this cavern. Back closer to the skies he had been cut off from with a shred of hope he would see his family again. It was a desperate want, but with the appearance of the firefly he felt the smallest amount return. Perhaps there is a possibility he is lucky enough to lay eyes upon his world once more.

He felt his hold upon his sanity slipping, memories already burying themselves remembering the rancid feeling of rotting flesh between his teeth caked in blood. Holding close to the ones his soul called for, he hoped there was enough of him to save by the time he was freed from this pit.

~~~

Fit despairs in the cavern Madagio trapped him in while on a world far away a desperate man with an stubborn streak prepares to risk it all to save him.

don’t know what has inspired me to do this but here is a fic rec list of some of my favorite hideduo fics :] they’re mostly fluff because I choose to ignore the angst of canon

Gen, M/M | hurt/comfort | 4769 words

Fit gets bodied by a creeper and falls down a big hole. Tazercraft are there to save the day! or OR; I got nostalgic about early Hide and Seek Trio so I wrote them during the obsidian armor era (think like july 2023)

M/M | Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Making Out | 5613 words

Fit and Pac spend the day in bed.

Friends With Benefits, Awkward Flirting | 12018 words

Pac and Cellbit are friends with benefits - but Pac falls for Cellbit’s new housemate, Fit.

M/M, Other | driver & bodyguard au, fluff and angst | 12/? ch, 84,520 words

this is the fitmc bodyguard x pac driver au where they take care of sunny, share a house in the country for months and months, and try not to fall in love with each other while technically on the job

M/M | New Years Kiss, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Driver x Bodyguard AU | 6700 words

Fit attends the most anticipated social event of the year for the first time with Pac and Tubbo. Not as a bodyguard this time, but as a guest.

M/M | Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Slow Burn, Christmas Modern AU | 9/9 ch, 37,448 words

When Ramón makes a secret bet with Richarlyson that he could get his dad a date in time for Christmas, Fit and Pac are quickly thrust into a series of "very good friend" shenanigans that force them to reconcile with their growing feelings for one another.

M/M | Modern Bakery AU, Meet-Cute | 11,844 words

Pac falls head-over-heels for the owner of his local bakery.

M/M | Fluff, like 5 AUs | 9132 words

In nearly every universe, Fit and Pac find each other. In some of them, they even get to kiss.

(yes toni I am reccing your fic. it deserves it)

That’s just some of my favorites, always feel free to dm me if you want more recs, and everybody feel free to reblog this with your own recs for whatever ships/platonic pairings :]

[parkerlyn]

How would the ROs feel about an MC that’s always complimenting them in a genuine manner, even for the smallest of things?

Ahhhh somft 🥺 Haven’t done one of these in ages so please forgive the rust on these drabbles askdjfkd (still working on the art prompts slowly in the background)

Written in the early dating phase, thank you for the ask! ❤️

The Healer: "You're amazing."

The Healer laughs, bright and clear, while they bring their hand down from the shelf. "I think I'm just tall in this case."

"Tall and amazing."

“Yeah, alright.” A chuckle echoes through their chest as they hand you the jar with a smile. 

Cool glass greets your fingers, but when you try to open the preserved fruits you’re met with the unbreakable hold of the sealed lid. The metal slides under your grip at another attempt, still not budging, the only evidence of your effort in the pain at your palm.

You sigh and hand it back to them, and they twist it open with an infuriatingly quick 'pop' before handing it back to you.

“Tall and amazing and the best jam jar opener,” you state matter-of-factly as you happily take the jar back. The syrupy sweet smell of honey and peaches accompanies another round of the Healer’s laughter.

“You did most of the work,” they say in assurance before a mischievous smile works its way over their mouth. “But are there any other small things you want done? I’m starting to get used to this string of compliments and I’m kind of curious how many you can remember in a row.”

Leaning the jar against your lips, you hum. “You don’t have to do anything, I can make that list on my own.”

A quirked eyebrow joins in from the Healer as they let you mull over your thoughts.

“Tall and amazing and the best jam jar opener, the best Healer, the best hugger-” They laugh. “-the most genuine, most gorgeous, the best laugh and eyes-haver-” They snort at your phrasing but the eyes in question narrow over their rising cheeks, smile spreading wider as they hold their hand up.

“Okay, yes, thank you, my ego is never coming back down, going to be grinning for days,” they babble back and hold their hand out for you to take as they lean against the counter. With a step forward, you gently place the jar on the wood surface before letting your fingers smooth over their outstretched palm, hands turning downward to intertwine together while you take another step closer.

True to their statement, the smile never leaves, and they bring their free hand up to brush a thumb over your cheek and down the soft skin by your ear.

“My turn to shower you with compliments about all the things I like about you?”

Your eyes close against the touch. “Do tell.” 

A soft exhale follows their thumb as they turn your head to the side.

“Actually, maybe I can show you.” 

The Sage: When you remark on how wonderful they are, there’s the briefest widening around their hazel eyes as the glow from their face fades. But it morphs instantly into a polite and measured “Thank you” while they carefully close their book. Formal and stilted, but not uncomfortable. 

It takes a few more trips of you hovering around the Archival Library to observe that this is their default. Mask on, manners sharp, neutral in all ways, in case the compliments have an ulterior moment.

There’s a pang of sadness in the realization.

A sudden determination carries into your steps, your previous reasons (or excuses) for being in the Library all but forgotten as you march your way to where you last saw the Sage. They hear you coming first, tilting their head upward and letting an excited smile slip through their professionalism.

“Oh! I didn’t know you were still-”

“You’re amazing.”

They gape, blinking, mouth trying to lure a response from their throat. 

You continue before they can refasten their formality.

“And lovely, and stunning, and more brilliant than all the stars in the sky.”

With your added barrage of compliments, their mask seems unable to be placed properly, and they slowly reshelve the book in their hands with their face turned. It takes an awfully long time, you notice, their hand tapping the top of the book’s spine once it’s settled, with a few more pats down its length for good measure despite the already snug fit.

When even they realize that shuffling their fingers over the book is redundant at this point, they let their wrist fall and tap a quick rhythm against the bookshelves.

“I’m not sure I can hold a candle to you but-”

They let it loose now. The delight, the happiness, the quiet exhilaration at your words. They almost raise a hand to their mouth to try and stifle the soft smile, but decide to let it shine outward as their eyes crinkle into a blissful, serene joy.

Instead of trying to restrain their expression, they wrap their fingers around your hand, pulling you closer and a few steps farther between the corridor of volumes. You let them lead you, let them turn and raise your hand to their lips, let them place a fleeting, secretive kiss against your knuckles before dark hazel meets your eyes.

It comes as a whisper. No caution or apprehension. All tenderness and adoration. 

“Thank you.”

Oisein: You can’t help the out-of-place comment, admiring Oisein’s glowing freckles as they scrunch up their nose over a particularly stubborn scuff on one of their leather bracers.

They look to you as the sweet words slip out. At first with an almost fearful shock, until they compose themselves with a breath and an arched brow.

“Alright then, what’re you after?”

“What?”

A smirk twists the corner of their mouth, eyes narrowing and darkened. “Complimenting me while I’m making the most unattractive face I can muster over some rancid bracers? What is it, yours need fixing? You break something? Piss off the Magesmith again?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t take that job from you."

“Good. I’d be devastated.” Oisein gives an exaggerated ‘phew’ with a swipe of their hand over their forehead, light laughter quickly following. Jokes aside, they lay the bracer down and fold their arms. “But really, what’s this about?"

You lift your face from your palm, the weight easing from your elbow on the table. “Nothing. I just wanted to tell you that you looked beautiful.”

After a hesitant pause, they make the same face from before, face twisting and freckles shifting on their cheeks as they scratch below an antler. Flickering light spasms through their pointed ears and down their neck, and they curse under their breath. Hands fly to cover their exposed markings, glowing gleefully regardless of their permission.

Their voice comes out a murmur.

“Should’ve grabbed my earring, I can usually hide that, damned things...” they trail off before taking a few steps toward you, that familiar smirk starting to curl through their lips. “Maybe I just need some practice?”

You lean back into your palm and feel the corner of your mouth lifting to match their expression while they close the gap between you, step by fluid step. Lavender eyes bore into yours as they settle their weight against the table, lifting a knuckle to trace from the base of your ear, along your jawline, down below your chin.

A slight pressure raises your face as they lean forward with a whisper on their tongue.

“Tell me again.”

Despite the many chances they have, nothing seems to be able to mute the light cascading from their skin.

The Magesmith: They scoff at your compliment, brushing it aside with the soot from their work, and go back to fumbling with the bits of metal in front of them.

You frown. "I mean it."

Their eyes flash between red and pink. "You don't have to do that."

“What?”

“Do the-” they wave the small tweezers in their hands in your general direction and sigh. “-the thing. You don’t have to always compliment me or do the cutesy talk and-”

“Can I not just compliment you?”

“No.”

The frown pulls further at your mouth. “Why not?”

A sigh sags through their shoulders as they put the tools down and run a hand through their hair. Auburn loosens from the hold of their headband and covers their eyes before their fingers pinch together at the bridge of their nose. Their lips press into a thin line, jaw set, fingers sliding down the side of their face to scratch softly at their chin before they wrap their hands around their neck.

When they don't respond, you continue.

"I'm not just doing a thing because I feel like I have to, if that’s what you’re thinking," you start quietly. "And I have it on good authority that I'm just stating facts when it comes to how incredible you are."

Another scoff sounds at your conclusion, though this one seems tinged with another emotion. Worry settles in your gut when you read the disgust on their face until you realize it's something else.

Embarrassment.

And a swirl of color that reaches the tips of their ears.

You grin.

"You're sure you don't-"

"Don't say it. You don’t have to- ugh," The response is curt as they turn away, reaching to busy their hands with their tools again, hiding their eyes and twisting something in their arm.

But the vibrant smile that breaks through tells you all you need to know.

[addictedtostorytelling]

I really don’t like how dismissive Grissom is of Sara in Burden of Proof. And the way he talks about her being emotional to Catherine. But then I look at the recent trailer and it’s the same guy who now holds her hand just because he can and my heart melts <3

hi, anon!

looking back at the grissom of the early seasons and then comparing him to the grissom of the present, i’m always struck by how far he’s come and how much he’s grown as a person/partner.

in episode 02x15 “burden of proof,” he starts out being inconsiderate of everyone on the team by putting rancid blood in the communal fridge, and he sees no problem with what he’s doing because he’s just of such a one-track mind that science takes precedence over everything for him; the human element doesn’t even register (even as the team complains to his face, seemingly not for the first time, about the rudeness of his actions).

during this period of his development, he still has a tendency to heavily compartmentalize the different aspects of his life. as heather will later explain to him in s9, “everything has its place” with him (see episode 09x05 “leave out all the rest”): his work, his social relationships, his hobbies, etc.; he partitions the different facets of his existence such that the professional and personal parts don’t overlap/impact each other.

or at least that’s what he tries to do.

—because the truth is, his best efforts notwithstanding, the “hard line” between gil grissom the night shift supervisor and gil grissom the friend has always been much softer and more permeable than he is comfortable admitting, and particularly because the people who work for him also happen to be his best friends/family, and in sara’s case, his one true love.

for as much as he tries to pretend that when they’re on the clock, he’s relating to his team members on a level that is 100% professional and has no bearing on their social dynamics outside of the lab hierarchy, such has never been the case; whatever kindness or cruelty he shows them as a boss contributes to their sense of him as a person and affects their interpersonal relationships with him. there is no true distinction between how they consider him as their employer and how they consider him as a man.

and that’s especially true with sara.

more discussion after the "keep reading," if you're interested.

__

the interesting thing with sara is that before she moves to vegas, grissom’s relationship with her is solely personal; though they meet at a work-related conference, they don’t in point of fact actually work together, and so all of their interactions are social/romantic. their whole dynamic is based in the fact that they are in love with each other.

however, when sara moves to vegas, things get messy, because suddenly for the first time there is a professional component to the relationship—and grissom wants that component to be the relationship in and of itself.

even though he’s still in love with sara, he doesn’t want them to have a personal relationship anymore—not when he so fears the consequences of them doing so. he wants them to be 100% professional. just coworkers. just a supervisor and subordinate.

but there’s the rub: for as much as grissom wants to completely ignore their romantic history and pretend like suddenly he and sara are nothing more than a supervisor and subordinate, doing so is not actually feasible.

on paper, they may be just a boss and an employee, but in actuality, they are still, as ever, two star-crossed lovers, and the history that they have together hasn’t actually been erased; it’s still present, carrying with them, inflecting their every interaction.

trying to sweep everything that they are to each other under the rug doesn’t actually make it go away.

and that’s where most of the angst between them comes from in the early seasons of the show: from grissom’s stubborn insistence on treating his and sara’s relationship as if it were solely a professional one, even though it very much isn’t, and from the inevitable slippage that occurs when he’s unsuccessful in his attempts to keep everything “strictly business” between them—from the times when he allows his true feelings for her to show through, only to then confusingly try to cover them up with a show of “big boss-man” bravado; when he vacillates wildly between acting like a boyfriend to her and acting like a manager.

while he is himself very willing to at least try to buy into the “you’re just my subordinate, and i'm just your supervisor” lie he’s telling both of them—even though he’s seldom successful in actually propagating it—she isn’t.

she sees through the bullshit and always has.

she's never understood how he can pretend that the two and a half years before she moved to las vegas never happened—that their relationship was never personal.

she knows that’s not true.

even now, after a year and a half of her working for him, she knows that there’s still more to their relationship than he’s willing to admit to—that’s why he often shows her special treatment at work and why he sometimes makes gestures that can only be construed as romantic toward her and why there’s still so much palpable electricity between them.

they’re not just a boss and an employee, and they never have been; he’s deluding himself if he says otherwise.

so that brings us to the events of this episode, and the whole thing with the raw hamburger.

for him, the hamburger is just hamburger, but for her, it’s more.

he’s looking at their conflict, thinking, “okay, so i’m working on an experiment involving raw hamburger, and sara comes in when i'm already mostly done with it. i don’t have time to slow down because the case is hot, so i ask her to handle the clean-up so that i can move on to the next thing, which is something that is 100% within my purview to do, as i am her supervisor, and she’s my subordinate. she gets upset about the assignment i've given her because it disagrees with her personal sensibilities, which—whatever. i don’t really get it, because to me science is science, but that’s her prerogative not to touch raw meat if she doesn’t want to, i guess, so i tell her she can have nick deal with the clean-up instead. to me, that’s the long and short of the matter, but to her, it must not be, because the next thing i know, she’s putting in a request for a leave of absence, accusing me of not respecting her. did the hamburger really offend her that badly? i don’t understand why she’s so upset.”

meanwhile, she’s looking at it, thinking, “i moved to las vegas believing that when i got here, grissom and i would be a couple. obviously, that’s not how things have panned out, though. since i'm a big girl, i've tried to deal with the disappointment—to play by grissom’s rules and respect his boundaries, holding out hope that maybe someday he’ll change his mind, yes, but not pushing him into anything or giving voice to my heartache. i get why he has trepidations, of course. i get what’s at stake for him. and that’s why i don’t lobby for more than he’s willing to give. i feel like so far i've been pretty good about adapting to the reality of our situation. still. that's not to say that it doesn’t hurt when he’s callous with me—when he treats me like there was never anything between us, even though we both know that’s not true. for a year and a half now, i've stood by, making the best of his mood swings. some days, he treats me like i annoy the hell out of him, to the point where i wonder why he even keeps me on the team. but other days, he’s back to being prince charming, giving me all sorts of reasons to hope. honestly, the whole runaround is exhausting, and i wish he would come down one way or the other all of the time. this raw hamburger debacle is just the latest and worst in a string of slaps in the face from him. we shared that night watching over the pig carcass together last year, and i thought it was a big deal, that it meant something to both of us. but now he can’t even be assed to remember it, and he can’t be assed to even respect me as a person. i memorize and analyze and overanalyze and pore over every little exchange that passes between us. i live and die by how he treats me, weathering the bad days, living for the good. but obviously that’s not how things are for him. obviously, i'm not that important. it's probably time for me to recognize that discrepancy. i can’t keep waiting around for him to figure things out. i've got to do something to clear my head and get over him once and for all.”

and that’s the big difference between them:

at this point in his development, grissom is refusing to look at the bigger picture stuff because it scares him and complicates his project of trying to pretend that his and sara’s relationship is solely professional. for him, it’s much easier just to assume their individual interactions happen in a vacuum and ignore larger patterns. he doesn’t want to acknowledge the grander implications of what’s going on between them, so he doesn’t; he compartmentalizes.

him telling catherine that sara is “emotional” is part of that compartmentalization: it’s easier for him to pretend that sara is having an irrational response to the situation than it is for him to admit that he’s the one who’s making things weird by pretending that there aren’t any personal aspects to this interaction, even though there very clearly are.

but sara not only doesn’t want to take that approach; she literally can’t.

she can’t help but think about their every interaction in terms of what it means within the larger arc of their relationship. to her, overtones and implications are everywhere. it's all big-picture. it all counts toward the whole.

and that’s what she tells him when she confronts him in his office: that she’s not just upset about the hamburger thing; that this incident of him being dismissive of her isn’t isolated. to her, his disrespect toward her has become chronic ever since she moved to vegas. he’s been so hot and cold with her, so inconsistent, and, after a year and a half, she can’t take it anymore.

to me, it’s very telling that when sara threatens to quit, what grissom says is “the lab needs you”—because at this point, that’s all he can admit to.

what he of course means is that he needs her—and, by the look on sara’s face, she knows as much.

it’s just that he can’t bring himself to say the words.

he’s so deep in denial.

and that’s the thing that slowly changes over the years for him—not the actual nature of his and sara’s relationship, which has always, always in reality been personal, even after she started working for him, but his ability to acknowledge the truth; to finally admit to himself and to her that they’ve always been more than a supervisor and subordinate to each other; that they’ve always been in love.

he finally calls a spade a spade eventually.

it's just that it takes him a long time to get to the point where he can.

way back during the events of episode 02x15 “burden of proof,” he’s not yet to that level of self-awareness, so he acts like an ass, so much so that he very nearly loses sara for so doing. it’s only under threat of her quitting (and some coaching from catherine, who, thankfully, is much more socially aware than he is) that he manages to avoid this disastrous outcome and pull back the curtain of his own willful ignorance enough to realize that he needs to make a personal gesture or risk losing sara forever.

hence the green plant.

still.

even this particular misadventure is not enough to completely cure him of his delusions going forward; for the next two and a half seasons, he’s still in the business of trying to convince himself (despite mounting evidence to the contrary) that he can relate to sara solely in his capacity as her boss, ignoring the fact that he’s madly in love with her.

it takes a lot more near-misses and mistakes and bad turns on his part before he finally wises up—circa the end of s4 and beginning of s5—and realizes that he has to be honest about what’s been going on with him and sara the whole time.

as i talk about in this post,

when it comes to sara, grissom has always been torn between protecting his professional interests and following his heart.

as he says in episode 04x12 “butterflied,” he fears that he would have to give up everything he has worked for over the last twenty years in order to be with her—and he also fears that, once he has made such a sacrifice, she will realize his deficiencies and eventually leave him, and he will be left with nothing.

he tries to compromise between what he wants to do and what he thinks he ought to do by maintaining an “at the lab only” romance with sara, which toes the line, as far as lab policy goes, but leaves sara confused/unfulfilled and him in danger of losing her altogether, as far as it concerns their personal feelings.

over the years, there have been occasions when grissom has allowed his personal feelings to override his professional judgment when it comes to sara—we know as much, based on what ecklie says to sara about how grissom doesn’t truly document her performance and fails to appropriately discipline her for her numerous departmental infractions.

it is partially for this reason that sara feels so confused by grissom’s actions and attitude towards her: because while he tells her time and time again that he is just her boss, he sometimes acts like she is not just his employee and gives her special treatment. the way he “manages” her feels a lot like it is motivated by love rather than professional obligation.

however, these occasions typically come at no great professional cost to grissom—i.e., though he gives sara special professional consideration in these situations, he doesn’t ever endanger his own career in so doing. he is still acting “within his purview” as a supervisor when he bails her out.

take, for instance, sara’s near-dui at the end of season four.

it is unclear exactly what lab policy would have grissom do, given the situation, but one can imagine that a suspension probably should have been in order, or at least some kind of formal write-up.

however, rather than take punitive actions, grissom opts to get sara the help she needs and to do so very discreetly.

he tells her to take a vacation, makes sure she enrolls in peap sessions, and apparently keeps the whole situation on the d.l. (as we can infer from the fact that no one on team graveyard seems wise to where sara has been all summer, once the events of episode 05x01 “viva las vegas” take place).

while these actions are unusual, they are ones grissom can professionally justify taking. if the lab director finds out about them, grissom won’t get in trouble; he’ll just have to explain himself, and he’ll be able to do so, particularly as he is, technically, adhering to the letter of the law, in making sure sara sees her counselor.

and that’s what makes grissom’s actions at the end of episode 05x13 “nesting dolls” so remarkable: the fact that, this time around, he is actually putting his career on the line in order to protect sara.

not only is he directly defying ecklie, but he is also saying, point blank, “i know what lab policy says i should do in this situation, and i’m not going to do it. i’m going to handle things my own way, and if anybody has a problem with it—well, that’s too bad. sara is off-limits. we’re not negotiating here.”

grissom telling ecklie that he has already taken all the actions he intends to take in disciplining sara is basically tantamount to nick fury saying, “i recognise the council has made a decision, but given that it’s a stupid-ass decision, i’ve elected to ignore it,” in the avengers.

or, alternately, “come at me, bro.”

but it even goes beyond that: grissom isn’t just prepared to shield sara; he is prepared to take the fall for her.

he tells ecklie that he is ultimately to blame for sara’s discipline problems, shouldering full responsibility for the situation—and, in so doing, he is almost daring ecklie to fire him.

while he can be fairly certain that ecklie won’t fire him (because, frankly, he is professionally irreplaceable), he’s still willing to take that risk and put his own career on the line in order to do right by the girl he loves—which is something that he has never been brave enough to do before.

in a way, his action is symbolic—a complete reversal of the decision that he makes in episode 03x22 “play with fire.” back then, he would risk nothing and refused to take a chance on sara. now, he is risking everything, and he is going to take his chance to be with her, no matter what it costs him.

it is not at all a coincidence that grissom and sara officially become “involved” at some point near the end of season five or the beginning of season six, only after the events of episode 05x13 “nesting dolls” take place.

in fact, as i understand things, they really only could be together once grissom had finally conquered his fears and decided that he cared more about showing love to sara than he did about safeguarding his career.

—and all of this rambling is to say that for as disappointing as grissom’s behavior toward sara through 98% of episode 02x15 “burden of proof” is, the good news is that it’s not the be-all, end-all with him.

he starts off unable to acknowledge his feelings for her, treating her poorly not because he doesn’t care about her but because he’s scared and making self-interested choices, but thankfully he doesn’t stay that way; that’s not the endgame for him.

in s2, he’s still at a very early stage in his development, but through subsequent seasons, he changes and grows—he learns to act in love and not in fear, to be more transparent about how he feels, to admit how much he cares for sara not even just because he doesn’t want to lose her but because that’s what’s best for her, and he prioritizes her well-being.

that's what leads him to a place where, twenty-three years after they first meet, he’s holding her hand as they walk into the lab—a place where he’s not afraid to admit that she’s the love of his life, and he’d do anything for her.

that’s character development right there.

and it’s so satisfying to watch it happen, even if at times it feels slow in coming.

thanks for the message! please feel welcome to send another any time.

[dothedogmusic]

Explore late 80's & early - mid 90's ska in fine style with the fab Memoirs Of A Ska Librarian! Memoirs Of A Ska Librarian is a unique 5 zine publication that covers the global ska scene from 1989 to 1996, tells my own ska story, the story of my band The Bakesys, the story of The Loafers & Special Beat & the story of my Rude Skazine. To order in the UK send £12.00 to http://paypal.me/dothedogmusic To order from Europe send £16.00 GBP & to order from outside Europe send £20.00 GBP. Please include “Memoirs” & your postal address in the note section of your order.Memoirs Of A Ska Librarian features 150 ska bands from 18 different countries around the globe from that era. The bands featured are: The International Beat, Bad Manners, Maroon Town, Potato 5, The Riffs, The Loafers, Laurel Aitken, Skaboom, The Hotknives, 100 Men, No Sports, Napoleon Solo, The Ska Flames, Casino Royale, The Mighty Mighty Bosstones, Mark Foggo’s Skasters, The Bakesys, The Trojans, Natural Rhythm, Clubland, Ska-Per, Pressure Drop, The Nutty Boys, Special Beat, Mr Review, The Deltones, Les Frelons, The Busters, The Braces, The Liquidators, Bigger Thomas, Bim Skala Bim, The Toasters, The NY Citizens, Just Kidding, The Allsorts, The Latenotes, Dance Hall Crashers, Machtoc, Mad Cow, Skaville Train, Tighten Up, The Selecter, Intensified, The Cosmics, Dr. Calypso, Messer Banzani, Malarians, El Bosso & Die Ping Pongs, Blechreiz, Verska Vis, The Frits, Let’s Go Bowling, The Scofflaws, Skankin’ Pickle, The Porkers, Hepcat, Skapa, The Skunks, King Apparatus, Capone and the Bullets, Back To The Planet, Madness, Ruder Than You, Gangster Fun, Me Mom & Morgentaler, Fishbone, Skarface, Skatalà, Jump With Joey, Boy O Boy, The Newmatics, Loonee Toons, Too Hot, Citizen Fish, Ngobo Ngobo, Banana Boats, Fun Republic, The Gangsters, Strange Tenants, The Skeletones, Desorden Publico, The Mudsharks, Square Roots, The Pacers, Tom Collins & The Cocktail Shakers, The Pietasters, Skinnerbox, Steady Earnest, Mr Cranky, Mephiskapheles, The Invaders, Mustard Plug, The Skanxters, The Ventilators, Statuto, The Butlers, Dr. Ring Ding & The Senior Allstars, Ska Trek, Rude Boy System, Bluekilla, MU330, Easy Big Fella, Johnny Socko, Hoodlum Empire, Spring Heeled Jack, Suggs, House Of Rhythm, Smoke Like A Fish, Skaos, Éjectés, Red Wings Mosquito Stings, The Peacocks, Skaferlatine, Loaded, Ruda Salska, Skavoovie & The Epitones, Reel Big Fish, The Arsenals, The Grown-Ups, The Allstonians, Rancid, Loin Groin, Skavenjah, Stubborn All Stars, Tantra Monsters, The Kingpins, Less Than Jake, The Exceptions, Secret Cajun Band, Voodoo Glow Skulls, Too Many Crooks, Spithead, King Prawn, The Xplosions, The Refrigerators, Seven X, Chickenpox, Gordon, Venice Shoreline Chris, My Superhero, Animal Chin, The Planet Smashers, Stinkfish, & The Siren Six!

[tewwor-moving]

The present tears into two, half fused by influences of the past. He’s distantly aware of someone approaching. The silhouette stitched into someone familiar if focused enough. But his body screams. Too far gone, fully geared into hyperdrive to reel in the finesse it takes for recognization. His mouth burns, tongue coated in rancid blood, and it hurts. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts. Everything hurts, and it feels as if a phantom blade pierces deeper than cheek and jaw. It carves straight through him. Pins his frantic heart in an attempt to keep the stubborn organ still.

Suddenly, darkness envelopes him.

The entirety of his body locks up. Cringes back into a feeble position, trying to hide the tender vitals from potential harm. Worst of all, his eyes reflexively screw shut. As if expecting impact from a higher power that he cannot and will not fight against.

The faintest press against his forehead feels as if he’s been struck by lightening.

Whichever way he breathes, crests before slowing. It’s still ragged, yes, but the constant ringing’s finally fading. That smell of heavy smoke and warm spices pry open his throat and lungs. Slowly, fearfully, Jie starts to open his eyes. A map of constellations are the first to greet him. Somehow their names paddle their way to the surface from murky depths of his rattled mind. He hangs onto them. Clings to the solid body before him like they’re his last hope. He curls the side of his head against the pale streak among the night and stars. Hears a rhythmic thudding that calls for his own pulse to join.

One, two… One, two…

IT'S NOT A STRANGER. PERSEPHONE DOES ALL she can to make sure the armored, clawed, terrified thing protecting jie recognizes her. his snarl cuts off their voice, so they shut up and stop moving.

(even if he lunged forward and struck her, seph would not fight back. how could they?)

the whole time, they're studying his eyes. wild, unfocused, distant. ... questioning. searching. exhausted, but present. they're about to speak again, to reach out, when jie's hand brushes the mangled knife by his side and he jerks back as if he's been burned. it isn't hot, is it? she can't see heat radiating from the metal. but he reacts to it as if it has some great power over him.

persephone knows what it looks like when someone is thrown forcefully back into their past. they can see the panic flash across his face and stay there, the way his body begins to tremor like theirs did when he found them after a kill.

any move made to touch him is retracted. instead, seph shifts forward, taking the risk of moving into jie's space so that they can tip their head toward him. carefully, she touches her forehead to his, an endless curtain of smoky hair surrounding him, blocking out the glass-shards and the knife and the bodies and the blood, all enveloped in cold and vaporous shadow. shadow that, as eyes adjust to its deepest, blackest depths, begins to glimmer with distant stars. persephone's throat is exposed, her arms holding up her torso rather than defending her body. if he attacks, she will not fight back.

[xofaddiction]

                                   𝓇𝑒𝓂𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝑔𝑜𝑜𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔                                  𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓉𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓈 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓈𝒽𝑒𝒹 𝒾𝓈                                    𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝑜𝓃𝓉 𝒹𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓃𝑜 𝓂𝑜𝓇𝑒                                     𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝑔𝑜𝑜𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉                                          𝒶 𝒹𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉'𝓈 𝒹𝑒𝒶𝒹                                     𝓎𝑜𝓊'𝓇𝑒 𝓌𝒾𝓈𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓃 𝒷𝑒𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑒

full name:  tirzah mizrahi

nicknames:  zah, zahzah, bunny

age:  30

date of birth:  november 1

zodiac: scorpio

gender:  female

pronouns:  she/her

sexuality:  pan

physical

hair color:  dark brown

eye color: hazel

height: 5′3″

weight:  115 lbs

personality

morality:  chaotic neutral

positive traits: compassionate, honorable, charming, gentle, strong, lighthearted.

negative traits: distant, stubborn, callous, temperamental, suspicious, cold.

job: freelance escort

skills: adaptable, artistic, creative

family

parents: adam and rivka mizrahi (deceased)

sibling: myriam mizrahi

backstory and details - ＴＲＩＧＧＥＲ     ＷＡＲＮＩＮＧ :                                      mentions of cancer, death, alcohol, abuse & drug usage

                                                  ✴ ✴ ✴ ✴ ✴ ✴ ✴ ✴ ✴

Her upbringing was nothing short of mundane. When her sister came along, the monotony continued; A family of 4 who went about their normal lives and supped together every night lived in a quiet kind of bliss. It  remained so, until the cool autumn evening when Tirzah’s mother lost her appetite. According to doctors, by that time the cancer was already so bad she’d only have a couple of weeks. In a perfect world Tirzah would have had a million moments left with her mother: gushing over first kisses, crying over first heartbreaks, filling out college applications, prom photos, graduation, graduation, wedding, baby- whatever it be, the experiences were lined up. However, no world is perfect, especially not a rotted one like this.  Those few weeks passed too quickly for a ten year old girl who had a lifetime yet to live. Her mother died Devil’s Night, two days before Tirzah was set to turn eleven. The mundane little family was decimated, buried beneath the ash of the eruption that shook their world. The world kept turning, but not for them. It didn’t take long for their suburban complacency to change. In a matter of months, the now single father plucked his children from their cozy Winnetka home and right into some inner city 2 bedroom setup. It didn’t take long for her to become the parent her sister needed; the toddler-aged girl had no mother and their father was grief-struck and distant, more so than he’d ever been. She was a child raising a child, alone and wallowing in her grief. Tirzah hadn’t noticed anything amiss until she was almost thirteen; when her mother’s jewelry started to disappear. Beautiful gold and jeweled pieces that, with each passing day, diminished in number. She interrogated her four year old sister and reminded her of the rules of dress-up, though it made no impact. Stirring late at night from a dryness in her throat, Tirzah spotted the real thief; her own father tucking a set of diamond and white gold earrings into the breast pocket of his flannel shirt. Late into her thirteenth year, she noticed the rancid smell of liquor steeped sweat that lingered on the laundry she did. She noticed the crushed cans in the bed of her father’s truck. The newspaper with red sharpie marking sports pages from top to bottom, notes scribbled in the margins. The years passed sluggishly by; she was doing too much and could not do enough to fix what was broken. Money squandered on gambling and liquor didn’t leave much in the way of survival for the girls. Tirzah fought as hard as she could at every turn, trying to do anything to snap her father out of it, but it never had a positive outcome. Most verbal fights came to blows between herself and her father. It was in her nature to respect him, but the moment he raised a fist, she raised her own, no matter how much smaller and weaker she was in comparison. Stealing her resolve, Tirzah did what she needed to do: drop out of high school at the age of sixteen. The bottom line was- they needed to live. Eight hours spent away from home was welcome, but it was too much time wasted. Rumors spread as to why: pregnancy, elopement, illness, some strange combination of all three. The truth was: she had to support herself and her little sister. In place of school, she got a full-time job serving at a little diner in town. The pay was low, but tips were good as the food was greasy. Still not a perfect world, it was the best a high school drop out could manage. She started serving and worked her way up to manager a few years in. Co-workers came and went, times changed and presidents didn’t change shit except their rhetoric, passive patrons of Chicago became dear, protective friends she held in high regard. But the diner wasn’t enough. She picked up another job during the evening as an elderly neighbor’s caretaker. Tirzah was always gentle and kind with the woman, always interested in her stories and her life, happy to be there. Part of her felt bad that she had only begun speaking to the woman for the sake of financial gain, but she was happy to have gotten to know her at all. When the woman died, she left Tirzah the remnants of her estate: there wasn’t much, but it was a good little nest egg to set aside. Without the second job, Tirzah got hired on as a sometimes stripper at a seedy little club that misused her for all she was worth. She was still so young, still barely allowed to do much more than try to survive in a world that wouldn’t value her lack of education.  Tirzah was a child unable to ever experience a childhood, she buried herself in work and parenting. Like most people, she clung to vices that offered temporary comfort, especially during the typical young-adult party phase. She drank, she smoked, she swallowed pills like candy and snorted things that shouldn’t be snorted. Partying without abandon, sleep was few and far between. She worked all day, parented a few hours at night, then worked the rest of it, partied when she could and took uppers to keep herself going, only to repeat the cycle over and over. The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, yet expecting a different outcome. A turning point came the day she dropped of exhaustion in the middle of the diner. No one was aware of the drugs she was taking, or of the amounts she consumed, but they knew how hard she worked. Doctors at the hospital chastised her, people at work pitied her, her sister worried ceaselessly. Thankfully, it was a wake up call; she slowed her usage gradually until she grew out of it altogether; one of her biggest fears was turning into her father, growing as weak and dependent as he was. And Tirzah had managed to thwart it.

As if by some cruel trick of fate, Devil’s Night of 2016 came, and ended in another death. Her father, deeply indebted to local bookies, had been capped by someone all too eager to take the job. Tirzah was in the diner, cataloging necessities for the next restock of supplies when two police officers came in and shared the news.  She wanted to be upset, wanted to hurt, but she knew why he was dead and why she couldn’t bring herself to care. She was numb to the loss, in a way she hadn’t been when her mother had gone. Her father was a stranger, and his murder his own fault. In many ways, she lost her father the same year she lost her mother. He was gone, body turned to ash and kept in a little box in the trunk of her barely-running car. All that mattered was keeping her little sister safe. Thankfully, the kid was away at school in another state, and fate answered from a late-night interaction at the ramshackle diner.

An older woman, dressed in a designer cream-colored power suit, laced in pearls and diamonds looking for all the world like a politician took her place at a burgundy booth. She called herself Caroline, came in for a coffee, she claimed, but left TIrzah with a possibility: sell fantasy, charge thousands, live comfortably. Like any little girl, Tirzah once dreamed of grandeur; princess, rock star, mermaid. She never wagered the final would be the nearest she’d get; a siren beckoning men to her bosom. Whiskey on the rocks in a smoky bar, Tirzah drank as she gnawed over the offer, the idea masticating in the jaws of her mind. She thought it was a good idea; she needed a break after working so hard over half her life, but she didn’t want to be under anyone’s thumb. When she returned home that night, she set up a website to sell herself. Business came slowly at first, but soon her reputation spread throughout society and she made a wage that helped make living worth it. Now working out of GENESIS and the website, Tirzah makes money aplenty; enough to keep herself afloat, enough to support her sister, enough to be free for the first time in her life.

[b-chansbbygirl]

Animals - Part 1

Warnings: descriptions of SEXUAL ASSAULT, asshole characters, angst(maybe?), poor language/swearing/cursing, name-calling(bad words)

Word Count: approx. 2,330

A/N: This is the first installment and I’m SUPER excited. I really hope you like it. PLEASE heed the warnings and tell me if I left any out. I am not responsible for any adverse reactions you may have to this story. Feedback is always appreciated!

——

“He’s here.”

Ana nudges your arm, nodding in the direction of the front door.

It’s like clockwork; the bell above the door to the diner rings every morning at 10 a.m. right before the lunch rush. He always takes the table in the corner near the door and always orders the same meal. He’s gone by 11, leaving behind a clean table, a generous tip, and a polite ‘thank you’ as he leaves.

“And?” you huff, scrubbing at that stubborn coffee stain on the bar counter. Your fingers hurt from the effort but it’s been there for weeks and you won’t be satisfied until the damn thing is gone. 

“And,” she starts, “you’d better get his number before I do.”

“God, will you stop?” You roll your eyes, tossing the dirty rag through the window of the kitchen and into the sink. “I mentioned it one time.”

“Still.” Ana shrugs, toeing the kitchen door open. “He’s cute. You should ask him.” She disappears behind the door and it swings after her, squeaking on its hinges. 

Sighing, you glance over at his table. He’s hunched over his menu like he is every morning, but you know he’s going to get the same black coffee and blueberry pancakes. Pulling your notepad from your apron, you approach his table.

The grin he sends you makes your face heat up like a furnace. That, and those steel-blue eyes and that one sharp canine that pokes out from under his upper lip when he smiles has you as shy as a schoolgirl and weak in the knees. Not to mention the deep timbre of his voice that washes over you like warm chocolate.

“Good morning,” you smile, doing your best to keep eye contact. It’s kind of impossible, though, with that innocent little smirk. “The usual?”

“Actually, I think I’m gonna try the breakfast platter.”

“Oh?” you grin, scribbling his order on your notepad. “Changing it up?”

“Yeah,” he chuckles, leaning back in his chair as he picks at the edge of the menu. “Yeah, you could say that.”

The way he’s staring is starting to make you self conscious, but it’s not uncomfortable; he’s always been polite and respectful. He’s not looking at you like a piece of meat like some men do. It’s the type of look that makes you sweat and puts butterflies in your belly. “Alright, then.” Stuffing your notepad and pen back into your apron, you pick the menu from the table and hug it to your chest. “I’ll be back in a few.”

Turning on your heel and marching toward the kitchen, you catch Ana in the window grinning at you. She raises her eyebrows as you round the corner of the bar and stuff the menu on a shelf. “So?”

“Just make the damn food.”

Her laugh echoes in the diner as you shove the order slip in her face and force her back into the kitchen.

——

Your eyes have been dancing between the clock on the wall and John Doe in the corner for the past hour. You’ve refilled his coffee once already and you’re anxiously dreading for 11 o’clock to roll around. You’re cleaning the coffee machine when the bell above the door rings at precisely 10:52 a.m..  

“G’mornin’, sweetheart.”

The voice makes you jump, nearly knocking you off your stool. Glancing over your shoulder, those butterflies are gone and replaced with nausea. Turning around and stepping down, you wipe your hands on your coffee-stained white polo shirt.

“Good morning, Brock.”

“It sure is,” he grins. The way his eyes rove your body sends a chilled shiver across your skin, and you’re sure that nausea is going to get the better of you.“How’s my favorite girl?”

“If you aren’t going to order anything, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“Easy, I just stopped by to say hello.”

“Well, you said it.” Avoiding his eyes, you pulled a slip from the register and slid around the corner of the bar towards the man with the blue eyes and slicked-back hair. 

A cold hand wraps around your arm, spinning you until your spine clashes with the edge of the counter. Brock is on your front in the next second, caging you in with his arms and thick chest.

“I take time out of my day to stop by and this is what I get?” he questions, tilting his head as you turn away. “I missed you.”

“Please, just go away.”

“Don’t be like that, sweetheart.”

“She said back off,” a voice barks, tone deep and aggressive, straight from the chest. You vaguely recognize it, but it’s sharp and demanding, not the soft velvet that you’ve been crushing on for weeks.

Brock’s eyes rake your face as his tongue presses irritatingly at the inside of his cheek. He spares a glance over his shoulder and grins, pushing himself off the counter. “Did she?”

“She did.” Blue Eyes is standing behind him, tall with his chest out and head high. That warmth in his eyes is gone, the blue now as cold as ice as he stares daggers. “Yeah? And what are you gonna do about it, Barnes?”

“Do you really wanna find out?”

They’re chest to chest, staring each other down. You’re frozen, waiting for the first punch to be thrown with a white-knuckle grip on the edge of the counter. The tense silence between them is almost deafening as the other few customers quiet their conversations.

Instead, Brock nods. “Alright,” he surrenders, taking a step back and glancing at you over his shoulder. He sends you a toothy grin. “I’ll see you later, sweetheart.”

You watch as he sidesteps around Blue Eyes towards the door, their eyes on each other until Brock is on the street and out of sight. 

He watches through the window for a moment before releasing the tension in his shoulders and turning his gaze back to you. It’s soft, now; the cold stare he gave to Brock is gone, now only replaced with concern and a furrowed brow, his head hung low. “Are you okay?”

His voice pulls you from your shocked state. His eyes are watching you, searching for any bumps or bruises.

“I- yeah. I’m okay,” you nod, sighing and rubbing your clammy hands unconsciously on your apron. “Thank you.”

His lips quirk at the corners. “You don’t need to thank me.”

Nodding again, you run your fingers through your hair. “I, um, I have your bill.” You look down to your hand where the paper is crumpled and the ink is smeared.

“Is it alright if I stay a while?” he asks, his eyes flicking to the clock. A few more minutes wouldn’t hurt. “I’d like to try the pie special.”

“Of course,” you smiled, toying with the ruined paper in your shakey hands as you move behind the counter. He sits at the bar this time, his hulking form of muscle and leather in plain view of the street outside. 

“I see you in here all the time,” you say from behind the counter, kneeling to pull the pies from the cooler. “What’s your name?”

“Bucky,” he replies as you rise to your feet. You hold out the pies for him and he nods to the blueberry, silently watching as you cut a slice and set it in front of him. “Yours?”

You smile, your cheeks once again on fire as he takes his first bite, the altercation with Brock now at the back of your mind. “Y/N.”

Bucky sits at the counter the next day. And then the next, and the day after that. He’s left that lonely table in the corner behind in favor of keeping you company. He stays past 11, now, too. Sometimes he’s here even when you lock up in the late afternoon.

If you’re being honest with yourself, you enjoy his company. Ana teases you about it relentlessly, claiming he’s your ‘lost puppy’. You just roll your eyes and serve his daily slice of homemade blueberry pie. 

——

The key clicks in the lock when you close the diner at 5 p.m.. A shiver takes over you at the cool chill in the air, autumn finally setting in as the sun sets. 

Bucky had left an hour ago, speeding out of town on his one-of-a-kind Harley-Davidson. The two of you have gotten close in the past few weeks, but it’s not like you’re complaining; he’s charming, sweet, and he’s got the prettiest eyes you’ve ever seen. 

Sighing, you tuck your jacket tightly around your chest and prepare for your 2-mile trek home as the sun fades. It’s not a bad night; the sky is clear enough to see the stars, and it’s not yet cold enough for your toes to freeze. Which is a good thing, really; you’ve yet to get your furnace fixed.

The back road you walk is quiet and dark, save for the gravel underneath your feet and the light of the moon. The road isn’t traveled often at this time in the evening, so it’s odd to see a set of headlights and an old-fashioned Ford 4x4 twisting around the windy road and through the trees. You step off to the side as it passes, paying it no mind.

It pulls over, he doors creaking open and slamming shut as two sets of heavy boots crunch the leaves along the side of the road. Your gut turns with intuition and you don’t dare look over your shoulder, quickening your pace and taking larger strides.

“Hey, sweetheart,” a voice slurs as it moves closer, “where you goin’?”

A chuckle and a second voice slurs behind the first. “I don’t think she likes you, Don.”

They’re obviously drunk. Even from their small distance away you can smell the rancid scent of stale beer and cheap liquor. It’s a wonder they can drive that rust bucket they call a truck.

“Hey.” A hand grips your upper arm, pulling you back midstep and twisting you around. “I was talkin’ to you, dollface.”

Even in the dark, you recognize them; they’re occasionally at the diner, only there to ogle at you and Ana. They’re disgusting and rude, and you’ve had to ask them to leave multiple times because of it.

“Let me go,” you hiss, tugging at his hold on your arm.

“C’mon, honey,” the other man coos, coming up on your back. His fingers ghost as the hem of your coat before slipping under and crawling up the expanse of your back. “We’ve had a long day. Can’t you cut us some slack?” 

“Don’t fucking touch me!” You jerk your elbow back into his face and he yelps as his nose snaps. He stumbles back, gripping his face as blood begins to drip down his lip.

“You fuckin’ bitch!”

The hold on your arm throws you onto the road. Suddenly, your coat is being ripped open and drunk fingers are fumbling with the buckle on your belt. “You’re just askin’ for it, aren’t you?” Don’s weight on top of you is heavy as you kick and shove, his hot breath nearly making you gag. “A pretty little thing like you out here all by yer’self, then you go an’ hurt my friend. What’d you think would happen?”

Your cries and pleas fade into the dark scenery as he chuckles sickeningly in your ear. His fingers pull at the buckle of his belt, and it jingles the light from the moon is suddenly shadowed.

A deep,  guttural growl comes from just behind the treeline, branches and leaves snapping under heavy yet careful footfalls. Both men freeze, slowly turning to glance over their shoulders. There’s a beat of silence with them still on the ground, one hovering over you and the other still bleeding from his face, before a loud vicious snarl rips through the trees.

They’re off the ground and stumbling across the road on drunk feet in a flash, shouting profanities at each other. The truck is barreling down the road before the doors are slammed shut, tires squealing on the old pavement as the taillights fade out of sight.

You’re too distracted to notice they’re gone. 

Just a few feet away, the moon is blocked by a towering figure. Grey-white fur is illuminated by the soft glow of the moonlight. Ice-blue eyes glow in the dark and stare down a long pointed snout at your form on the road. Its claws scrape the pavement just inches away from your shoes, and it seems as it’s as tall as the trees.

You don’t dare move. The rational side of your brain is telling you it’s a hallucination from adrenaline, and the other is trying to haul your ass off the ground. Either way, what you’re seeing isn’t possible. You’re suddenly thrown back into your childhood with stories of monsters in the woods that aren’t real. 

Whoever wrote that bullshit was wrong.

Your breath hitches in your throat as it lowers its head down to your level. Any malice or aggression it had shown moments prior had disappeared; its eyes are gentle and warm as it watches you, but there’s hesitance in its body language. The crease in its brow is almost human-like.

You blink up at the beast, still as stone and holding your breath. Its claws scratch against the road as it shifts its weight. It raises back to its full height and turns, giving you a last glance over its shoulder before its tail is whipping through the cold air and into the dark. 

Your breath comes out as white smoke when you finally release your breath. It’s quiet, now. No crickets or wind, just you and the moon. It’s almost as if nothing had happened. 

Had it happened? The bruises, scrapes, and cuts are real. But was that thing real? Either way, it doesn’t matter.  You don’t sleep that night; you’re too busy nursing your injuries and watching the woods from your bedroom window.

—— Like it? Let me know!

Tags: @iheartsebastianstan​ @plums-and-peaches​

[iamfallinforeverything]

Talk

So, there's something I need to get off my chest and this is the only way I know without getting on my friends nerves. I probably messed up the timeline, but I just wrote from memory and what fitted best. 

Fandom: The Originals (Kol Mikaelson)

Summery: You and Kol need to Talk about something.

Warnings: it could be a little bit sad so angst? and swearing 😅

“We need to talk Kol.”

“I don’t have time for your bullshit right now, can’t you see? I’m working as opposed to you darling.”, he answered with so much contempt and sobriety in his voice.  

“Kol please. It’s important.”, I said pleadingly. 

“I can’t imagine one single thing that’s more important than this, my love. Can you leave now? I want to talk with my brother in private.”, and with that he shoved me out of the room and closed the door behind me. 

He looked at me with so much disgust. As if I was rancid blood. Maybe I was. Maybe I was already to old for him. 

Alone I went back to my room. I still had my own although I hadn't slept in this bed for weeks. I was sleeping in Kols bed and everyone here knew that. And still he treated me like shit, as if I was a nobody and not his lover. What have I done wrong to deserve this treatment? 

I sat down on the little balcony to read one of the many books Kol gifted me, but Elijah had different plans. 

“Y/N, I’m going to run some errands. Do you want to join me?”, he asked from the door. 

Elijah wouldn’t accepct a no, I knew that, so I said yes. Also I wanted to get out of that depressing room of mine.

“I’d love to Elijah.”, I answered him and got back up.

I put some shoes on and a light jacket. I threw my wallet and my phone into a purse and looked at Elijah. 

“Where are we going?”, I asked as we left my room. 

“You’ll see little mockingbird.” , Elijah answered and I followed him.

We went into the garage and he opened the passenger door of his car. Gladly I let myself slid into the seat and put the seatbell on. Meanwhile Elijah walked around the car and sat inside the car as well. He started the enginee and I looked out the window. I watched as he elegantly drove the car out of the garage and led it then safely through the streets of New Orlans. Slowly we left the busy streets behind us. I could recognized the way Elijah drove and knew that he would bring us into the Bayou where Hayley lived. I got excited because I knew I would see my good friend again. I haven’t seen her in such a long time. 

The car stopped after some time and I could already see Hayley coming out of the little hut.  

“Y/N!”, she smiled as I got out of the car. 

“Hayley.”, I smiled back and hugged her tight. 

“What are you two doing here?”, she asked and then looked at Elijah. 

“I thought our little mockingbird needed to talk to you.”, Elijah answered and put his hands inside of his suit pockets. 

I smiled at him. Of course he had heard what Kol said to me. 

“Also I thought the two of you could do a little sleepover.”, Elijah answered and opened the trunk of his car and took one of my bags out of it. When did he pack that?

Jackson came out of the hut and said: “I’ll take that.” 

Elijah just nodded and gave him my bag. Jackson nodded back and I smiled at him as he passed by us. 

“I’m going to pick you up tomorrow afternoon.”, Elijah said. 

“Okay. Thank you Elijah.”, I smiled. 

He just nodded and got back inside his car. 

“So firstly you have to tell me why the hell Elijah calls you mockingbird.”, Hayley laughed. 

I laughed as well and answered: “I don’t know. Maybe because I'm always humming some tv commercials.” 

“That’s going to be it mockingbird.”, Hayley smiled and I just rolled my eyes. 

We went to the footbridge that was by the little hut. We just sat there and talked about everything and nothing. Hayley told me about what it was like living in the Bayou and I told her about what it was like living with the Mikaelsons. 

We laughed alot and I was finally some kind of happy again. If there wouldn’t have been the stuff I wanted to talk about with Kol. 

After Dinner Hayley and I went back outside. We just laid on the floor and looked at the stars. In New Orlans it was almost impossible to see some stars because of all the lights, but here, in the Bayou, I could see every single one. 

“Y/N?”, Hayley asked after a while of silence. 

“Yes?”

“What happend?”, she asked without looking at me. 

“What do you mean?”, I asked back because I had really no idea what she meant. 

“Why are you here? Elijah wouldn’t bring you to me if nothing would have happend.”, she explained.

I took one deep breath and folded my hands over my belly. 

“It was nothing. I just wanted to talk to Kol about something and he said that he don’t have time for me. Nothing new.” I shrugged. 

“That’s not nothing.” 

I just shrugged again and looked at one of the brightest stars. 

“For me it is. There is so much other stuff between us. The only time he has for me is inside of his bed.”

“You need to stop doing that to yourself. You know that Kol won’t change for you and that he will forever treat you like shit.”, Hayley said and I could feel her eyes on me but I just kept on looking at the stars. 

“I know. But I don’t want to loose him. He can be different. He is different when it’s just us.” 

“Yeah, because he wants to fuck you. That’s all.” 

“I know. I know that but I don’t have the strength to change it. I'd rather have him like that than not at all.”, I said and I could feel how tears started to form in my eyes. 

“But it’ll destroy you.” 

“And if it does? It wouldn’t matter anyway.” 

“Don’t talk bullshit. It would matter! You’re my friend and I don’t want to see you so unhappy. He isn’t good for you Y/N.”, Hayley said obtrusively and sat up to look at me.  

“I know that he isn’t good for me. I know. All I can think about is him. I can’t even picture myself being with someone else. I just can’t.” 

“And no one says you have to. Now. You should just stop letting him play with you. You’re a human being with feelings and needs and if he’s just being a completly dickhead towards you, then you should let him go. He can be a dickhead to someone else.”

“You’re right Hayley. But it isn’t that easy for me.” 

“I know. But that’s what you have to do to feel good again. You’re never going to be happy like that.” 

I nodded and Hayley laid back down. 

“I can talk with him if you want.”, she said. 

“No. That’s something I need to do myself. I just have to be strong enough.” 

“You are. You just need to find that strength again. And I’ll help you with that.” 

“Thank you Hayley. You’re the best.”, I said and looked at her smiling. 

“I know. You don’t have to tell me.”, she smiled and I laughed. 

We laid there under the sky full of stars for a little bit longer and just looked at them. 

It was late when we went back inside the hut and fell asleep.

Jackson let us sleep in and made us a really nice breakfast. I haven't been as relaxed as this morning in a long time. In the Mikaelsons household I was always tensed and tried to be as invisible as possible. 

After our breakfast Hayley and I just sat outside and talked for a little bit longer. She showed me pictures of Hope, who was still living somewhere outside of all this bullshit with Rebekah. She missed her and I could understand that. If I had a little daughter who was living far away from me I would miss her as well. Hayley had so much going on in her life and she was still there for me and helped me with my Kol bullshit. 

Late in the afternoon came Elijah to pick me up. My heart got heavy and I just didn’t wanted to leave. Here I could be... myself. They accepted for who I am and I didn’t have to turn myself into a ghost. 

Hayley and I stood up and she immediately wrapped her arms around me. 

“I’m going to miss you little mockingbird.”, she laughed and I just rolled with my eyes. 

“I’m going to miss you too.”, I answered. 

“Come back soon, alright?”, Hayley said as she let go of me. 

“I will.”, I smiled. 

Hayles smiled back at me and I turned around to look at Elijah. 

He smiled at me kind of sadly. I was sure he knew that I didn’t wanted to go back. Kol would be pissed, I was sure about that. I left without saying something but in fact it was Elijahs fault. He kidnapped me and brought me into the bayou. 

“Elijah?”, I asked as we drove into the streets of New Orlans. 

“Yes?”, he asked back. 

“Can you like.. kill me? Before Kol does it, you know.” 

“He won’t Y/N. I’ll make sure of that. You’re not his property and you can do whatever you want. He is the last one to have a right to be angry. You are the one who should be angry. He dosen’t treat you the way you deserve it. Don’t let him make you feel like... well, shit.”, Elijah shrugged and I had to laugh. 

Hearing Elijah swear was something that happend rarely and when it happend it was hilarious. Elijah was the one who was most noticeable to have grown up in a completely different time. He was elegant, had class and behaved like a real gentleman. But sometimes the “new time” or whatever you want to call it, slipped through and it just sounded wrong. As if it shouldn’t come out of his mouth.

“It’s difficult Elijah. He has so much temper and then he’ll just shut down. And then it's more rewarding to talk to a wall than to him. It’s exhausting.”, I sighed. 

“I know, but you have to fight throught that. You’ll have to scream and you have to be persistent. He's stubborn and you’ll have to be more stubborn. You can do this, I know it. You’re strong. And even if he’s trying to kill you, I’ll have your back and kill him first. He’ll come back, you won’t and I will not let that happen, okay? Don’t worry mockingbird.”

Elijah parked the car infront of the Mikaelsons house. I was nervous and my heart was beating so fast I thought it would jump out of my chest. I took a deep breath and went inside the house next to Elijah. I wasn't even completely through the gate when Kol was already standing infront of me. His eyes were full of anger and I could see how much it took of his self-control to stay somewhere near calm. 

“Where the fuck were you?”, he said angry. 

I looked anxiously at Elijah, who just nodded at me. He briefly put his hand on my back and then left. But I knew that he was nearby and would listen to us, which gave me security. 

I took a deep breath, walked around him and said: “Somewhere.” 

Kol walked around me with his vampire speed and stopped right infront of me. I got scared and took a step back, which Kol took immediately back into my direction. I could feel his breath on my skin which scared me even more. 

“You’re going to tell me where the fuck you were.”, he hissed.

“No. I’m not your fucking toy. You can’t use me whenever it pleases you. I’m my on person and I can decide on my own where I go.”

Kol growled and looked deeply into my eyes. He always does that because he wanted to be the stronger one, the superior one, but this time I wouldn’t give up. Today I was the stronger one. I wouldn’t look down. 

Kol growled even more and turned around. He speeded to the other side of room and punched the wall. It immediately crumbled into small pieces. 

“Y/N, can you please tell me where the fuck you were and why Elijah, of all people, took you?”, Kol said and looked at me. 

“I told you.” 

“You said somewhere.” 

“Yeah, I told you Kol. I’m tired of your bullshit. I’m enough to keep you’re bed warm late at night and the rest of the time I’m like a fucking ghost. Because if I’m to loud or if I dare to talk to you, you’re just screaming at me. I’m done with your bullshit Kol. I’m done.”, I said and crossed my arms infront of my chest. 

“Are.. are you breaking up with me?”, Kol asked shocked. I never thought he would react that way. 

“How can I break up with you? We were never in a relationship.” 

“You know what I mean. Are you done? Are you really done?”

“If you keep treating me like that, then yes. I deserve more than that. I deserve more than screaming and a quickie.” 

He looked at me without understanding, like I was stupid. He came closer and looked me in the eyes again. 

“Fine. Then leave if you deserve more than me.” 

“Kol, I deserve more than you’re treatment. I know that you can be different, because I see that every single night. But I don’t want to be your foot pedal at day.”, I said softly.

Kol looked down and I took some steps in his direction. I put my right hand on his cheeks and pulled his head softly up. I looked into his beautiful eyes and saw all the pain from the last years. 

“Kol, I don’t want leave. I don’t want to leave you, but I can’t keep living like that. It hurts Kol. And I don’t want to be hurt anymore.” 

He nodded and put his hands on my waist. 

“Y/N, I don’t want to loose you. Don’t leave.”, he begged.

I pulled my eyebrows together and looked at him sadly. 

“Kol, you already have.” 

His walls crumbled down and tears formed in his eyes. I never thought Kol would cry. But I know it was the right thing. I needed to leave. I needed to heal and become myself again. I needed to do that. 

“Don’t leave me. Please Y/N.”

“I have to. I need to heal form the damage you made Kol. I’m not myself anymore. I realized that yesterday.” 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Y/N. Please, please don’t leave Y/N.” 

I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him tight. Kol wrapped his arms around my back and laid his head on top of mine. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath to breath his individual scent in one more time. I slowly let go of him and looked at him. 

“Goodbye Kol.”, I said and my arms dropped to the side of my body. 

“I’m going to fight for you. I’m not going to give up.”, Kol said and his famous fire returned to his eyes. 

I smiled and stroked his cheek one last time. 

“I know.”, I answered. 

I turned around and went upstairs to pack my things. Elijah was already there and some bags laid across my bed. 

“You’re doing the right thing Y/N.”, he said and tears started to stream down my face. 

“Why does it feel so wrong then?”, I asked. 

“It’s going to be better.” 

I nodded and opened the first drawer of my dresser. I took some of my clothes out and put it into one of the bags. 

“I’ll do that mockingbird. Don’t worry.”, Elijah said and shoved me lovingly out of the way. 

I couldn’t see what he was doing because he was using his vampire speed. In only a couple of minutes all of my stuff was in the bags. It wasn’t much anyway. 

“I’ll bring that into my car. You’ll wait here.”, Elijah said and in each hand he had at least three bags. 

I just nodded and Elijah speeded away, just to come immediatly back. He took the last few bags and I just looked at him. I didn’t even know where I should go now. 

“Come on mockingbird. I’ll bring you out of here.”, he smiled and I started to follow him. 

Kol was still standing where I had left him. I could see the tears on his face. I’ve never thought he would care so much. 

I went the stairs back down. Elijah never left my side and waited patiently for me. 

“It was a pleasure to meet you Y/N.”, I was shocked when I heard Klaus speak from above. Of course he also had to say something, even if it was only a simple farewell.

“Me too Klaus. Thank you for letting me stay here for so long.”, I answered and looked at him. 

He nodded and put his hands on the railing. I smiled, looked one last time at Kol and then went outside. I left this house behind me, together with Kol. 

I need a new start. Without Kol and his crazy family, expect from Elijah. Surprisingly was he the normal one. 

“Where are we going?”, I asked as Elijah started to drive. 

“You’ll see little mockingbird.”, Elijah answered and smiled widely. 

I knew exactly where we were going and I couldn’t be happier.

I’m going to feel better. I’m going to heal. I’m going to be fine. With Hayley, Jackson and Elijah by my side.  

I’m going to get through this. 

[punkrockmixtapes]

Rancid - I Wanna Riot (Feat: Stubborn All Stars)

[frankieboy55]

Who can attest for the greatness of a God? Who can affirm the kindness or the cruelness of a father? The gods have been much forgotten in our recent days. They forged and destroyed land we know, both with blood and fire. Yet, who now can recount the tale of the God’s Plague?     A howl pierced through the trees; the swamp was coming alive. Although the sun was setting on the bayou, the beasts were rising. Predators were on the prowl through the black waters.     Lyle knew the dangers of the twilight, but he also reaped its reward. The fish were always hungrier come nightfall. Most fisherman never ventured so far beyond these trees, let alone beyond daylight. Bayou Black, aptly named for the lack of sunlight beneath the thick canopy, was shunned by the residents of Adrianna.     Look for the great cypress where the birds roost. That was what he was told by the elder outdoorsman, Gabin. The man was known in his village as the wisest huntsman and fisherman, and practically family. He knew Bayou Black better than most, but still not nearly well enough.  Lyle was told to follow a small channel that broke off from Adrianna’s central river: the Merillion. There it would lead to the “unmistakably large tree” that many birds made their nests. Their white color would make the already unusually large tree stand out even more so. Gabin had been adamant of only two things: don’t stray from the channel and above all else do not stay beyond dark. Lyle wondered what had frightened the old man. Something in his eyes screamed to leave the notion behind, so Lyle had sworn off going past dark. At least from Gabin. Still he remembered how his wrinkled mouth quivered. What in Vectus’ name had his saggy eyes seen?     He pushed all his questions to the back of his mind. His small pirogue would surely dump him into the dark waters if he wasn’t careful, and he had to look for the channel. It was supposedly unmistakable, but he was searching in the twilight and he was unfamiliar with this edge of the Merillion.     After a sharp bend he spotted the channel. There was no doubt about it. The entrance was adorned with dozens of twig-woven shields. Some shields, carried by old twine, swayed melodiously, barely skimming the water’s surface. Others were hung higher overhead, or tied to tree trunks.      Lyle knew the symbol, as most everyone did. The Shield of Vectus. It was a protective sigil against the servants of Demudeas; a sigil that gave hope against all evil. It had been used for the thousands of years that followed the absence of Vectus: the god of triumph against destruction. Although Lyle knew this symbol as one of peace and safety, he couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that gripped him. It seemed more ritualistic, he thought. When he crossed the threshold the light quickly faded and he was left only to the dim glow of his shoddy lamp.     Lyle pushed on. The black water seemed to reflect no light, but he was kept steady by the trees that sluggishly passed by. He could see nothing more than a half rod’s distance. Bayou Black consumed all light. He relied on a push-pole to narrowly weave and feel through this endless void. The occasional splash or hiss kept lyle on his toes. Owl’s hoots were amplified under the unseen roof and rang on for several heartbeats. Despite hearing these things, Lyle expected more. More mosquitoes and biting flies. More shrill calls of unseen birds. More anything. Everything seemed to be holding its breath. The calm before the storm.     Gabin sat alone in his home. He lived like most in the swamp; elevated. His shoddy shack hung a few feet above the water, held up by many thick logs that were anchored into the mud. Such was the Adrian style. It was the only way one could live on solid ground in the wetlands.     The shack was toward the edge of his village, or what could be roughly classified as a village. The locals called it the Southern Tribute. This was because the inhabitants' houses lined the southern banks of the Greater Merillion Tributary. It would have been a more lively spot for salt traders or fishermen if not for the distance from the true Merillion.     Gabin was thankful for his neighbors. Many seasons before, the Southern Tribute had few inhabitants; roughly five families. Now it boasted more than twenty. Each night he took comfort in looking out from his front porch and seeing the glow of the smoke-fires within the other houses.      A night fire was the only way anyone in Adriana could sleep without being harassed by the millions of mosquitoes and gnats. He could see six houses beyond, before the bend. All but one had a fire dancing visibly through the open doors and contrasting darkness.     Having known everyone, he knew that one-man shack belonged to Lyle. Lyle the lone fisherman. He had known him and personally taken Lyle under his wing since he inherited the small cabin from his uncle. Gabin had known his uncle for the majority of his life, so he felt it was his duty to take care of him. Lyle reminded Gabin of the man that once lived in that same cabin, the man he spent countless hours drinking with, and he had come to thoroughly enjoy his presence.      Like his uncle, Lyle also was a natural rebel. He took warnings as challenges, and even openly disputed the word of the wealthy land owners that ruled the vast wetlands. This was a dangerous act, but he and his uncle did it all the same.     Gabin, awoke from the dreams of yesterday to the present horror. Only one house was unoccupied, and Gabin knew why. That damn fool has gone to Bayou Black! He rushed to his pirogue but feared he was already too late. Seldom did the swamp show mercy.     Lyle noticed the current slowing. He had been riding the canal for only a short while when he saw something directly off the bow. Ominous white orbs manifested in the darkness. At first they were as distant and dim as stars, perhaps a trick of the eye, but as the fisherman drew closer they grew brighter. Images from stories of specters that prowled the swamp danced in his head. He was still growing closer.     A shiver traversed his spine. He began to paddle backwards but made little difference. The water was stronger than anticipated. Lyle inched forward at a painfully slow pace. Then the ghostly white lights were upon him. Only then did he notice that they were perched in a large tree, scattered across the many long branches. Upon further examination, the white orbs transformed into snowy herons. Vectus help my stupidity. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly to ease his nerves. This must be it.     There was no doubt in his mind that this was the tree. The massive cypress towered above to unseen heights, but Lyle guessed it rose well above the canopy. The base of the trunk was almost an arm span wide and the lower branches ran parallel with the still water for several boat lengths. This was only apparent due to the white line of birds that ran its span.     "This had better be worth it" he muttered to himself. His voice echoed through the trees and carried on. Be Worth it… Worth it… worth it… marveled at how loud his voice had been amplified.     Lyle turned his attention to the deck of the pirogue. He fumbled in the dim glow of the lantern for the hook and bait. He grabbed a rancid liver of a fowl and began to slip it onto the hook. As he slumped over to focus, he heard a hoarse whisper in his ear.      "Worth it" said the voice. It bounced off the trees once more. The herons all took wing in unison and disappeared into the night. He turned, frantically looking for the source of the whisper but only found the vast blackness of the bayou.     Lyle was stubborn, even foolish at times, but he was not a complete idiot. He quickly used his paddle to push off the great cypress to turn himself upstream. Lyle paddled as quickly as the bayou permitted. His fear lit a fire underneath him and gave the young fisherman astounding strength.     He heard the chatter of birds overhead. Small branches fell around him. He was being pursued by something overhead. Trees creaked and limbs shook. The swamp came alive with the sounds of animals that sounded almost as frightened as he was. Almost. What in the name of the gods is that.     He was so preoccupied with the invisible canopy that he did not notice the cypress knees on the bank. They stuck out of the water like jagged teeth, waiting for the unwary. He glanced off one, caught another and became lodged between them. The force jarred the lantern loose from its pole and fell into the water. Darkness enveloped, and he still worked to get his small craft free.      Come on! In the name of all things help me! Please! He feared to give this silent prayer a voice or he may draw whatever it was to his location. He knew very well predators were attracted to the sound of struggling prey.      The chatter of birds slowly died out and he was left in silence. The only sound that remained was the thud of the paddle on the cypress knee. He was breathing rapidly. Lyle felt he could not fill his lungs properly and took shallow breaths. With all of his strength he gave a great shove and was dislodged. He almost wept tears of joy.     As he floated backward on a high of victory and fear one thing sobered him; he still heard heavy breathing, but slower and deeper. It came from just behind him. His blood ran cold. Before he had time to turn he heard it right up to his ear.     "Worth it" said the voice in a rasping whisper.     Gabin made exceptional time for his age. The only thing that was more taxing than the rowing was his own guilt. It was his own fault that Lyle went past dark because he had specifically forbade it. He should have known. Fear of Bayou Black had made him abandon reason. How could I have been so blind? I should have known. That boy is too stubborn.     He passed through the mouth of the canal, which he could have only found due to the hanging shields in the lamplight. No light seemed to penetrate the void ahead. He started to scan each bank but found it difficult.      As he peered into the darkness he was struck in the head. He reeled back and shook off his dizziness after a few moments to find a white bird flopping in the boat. It croaked as it writhed at his feet. It flapped its ruffled wings uselessly. More white birds whirled past, flying all around him against the current, croaking sporadically. Some were clotheslined by the lantern pole, or by low branches and joined their friend flopping in the small pirogue.      After Gabin found his wits he began to push the herons over the side with his paddle, afraid to chance their cursed touch. What is happening?     Before he had a chance to assess the situation, a shriek pierced the night. It was so horrid that Gabin almost mistook it for some wild hog or eagle. He knew however that it was human. It was then agonizingly cut short. Lyle! Gods no!     "Lyle!" he found himself shouting. "Lyle where are you?" he called down the canal. He found no answer, accept his own echo.     Ahead he spotted a small boat. It was hard to place the shape or color but it had to belong to Lyle. As he moved closer he realized he was too late. In the canoe, amidst the claw marks and splinters, lay shreds of a light tunic stained crimson.     Somewhere above him he heard a whisper. "Worth it."     He spun, lantern in hand, to barely make out a silhouette of a nearby tree. In it held a pair of large green reflective eyes and a toothy smile glinting in the lamplight.

[nctyourbrcther-blog]

Nose is nestled in a bundle of white locks, arms strung around her waist. Breathing in her scent and allowing silence to fall upon them, he merely holds her close and tight. “I do not wish for you to fight in this war, Sigyn.” Voice is hushed, barely audible unless one is listening close enough. Plenty of times has he tried turning her around, has fought and attacked in hopes she would be deterred from fighting a battle she did not belong in. Perhaps it is because even the Trickster knows all too well, how willingly sacrificial she is for far too many souls that will be on the battlefield, and shall be lost that day. With his hands on her waist, he turns her around, grip firm as green eyes lock upon blue ones that he never wishes will seize to exist. Eyes from a woman whose soul burns so bright, that has become a vital part in his life. 

Changed it, reformed it and has made it almost impossible to breathe and think straight if she is no longer a part of it; a part of his heart.

 “If you are to come…” 

And he knows she will – he hates her for it. Truly despises her stubborn will to go. Part of him, does not wish to fight himself… needs no reason to fight besides mortals that trust him less than they can throw him. Yet he owes it to Thor, his brother regardless of all their squabbles in the past. “Then you must stay at my side, at all times. Not once, will you part from me.” Loki cannot protect her if she strays too far, finds herself half way across the field. Soft exhale, of what can be considered of both irritation and impatience comes from the God as his thumb brushes along her lower lip. Closing their non-existent space, his head tilts and his lips brush against hers with every word he utters. “You are my heart, my beloved.” And so he kisses her, kisses her and touches her with the most amorous of nature. A kiss so deep, so heart felt, as if it is kissing her for the very last time. Because it was. 

Time strikes, their time is up. Leather and metal straps are tightly woven into place, golden helmet settled upon black hair as the daggers, sword and mystical weapons are so perfectly hidden away. No more than a few words come from the Jotun even as they descend into the field that rancid monster is expected to appear on. 

For the first time, they all stand side by side, a large of army that is flanking as many sides as possible with the initial mission to surround and overwhelm. To spot a weakness and aim for it, relentlessly, in hopes that they shall shorten the gap between themselves and victory. Victory that did not come without a sacrifice he had felt coming, one that he held as a deeply rooted regret even now, standing before Freya. One of the very last few he expected to communicate with him after the loss of Sigyn, an opportunity he did not pass on. Knowing her, it was something important that had to do with his beloved. Of course he had shown up without a second thought to withhold him, even if it could have been a vengeful ploy against him.

Months had passed since Sigyn’s death, yet the image of her final moments constantly dwell in his mind to replay the instance as if he will be able to somehow go back and change it. Ah, but a second change will come. Perhaps not today, nor tomorrow, nor in the close years to come - but it will surely happen. 

And until then, he will mourn her silently without breaking. Miss her so badly, it begins to physically pain the Trickster to the point he must find some sort of release and momentary distraction. Become accustomed to sleeping once more without the company of his wife. Sleep had evaded him for some time after her death, only resting when he’d collapse from exhaustion. Not once did he touch her side of the bed, but he’d lay so close, holding her pillow to breathe in her scent through out the night. Because only was he allowed to dwindle and succumb to the feeling of deep loss when he was alone in their room. A room that goes without being touched or changed, her items still remaining where she had left them. Not even the sheets had been changed for some time, not until her scent fully faded away from them. 

                “I will not force her to remember. Should she desire to have her memories                  once more, they will be on her own accord.” 

Both a promise to himself and to Sigyn, who is to eventually come back as a mortal with locked away abilities and memories that only her helmet will unlock. A helmet that he holds, so gentle in between his hands, as if it were made of the finest glass in all the realms. Original plan was to allow the Goddess rest, rest she very well deserved after all the centuries she has spent being tugged back and forth in. Sadly, no one else is able to hold the infinity stones within themselves quite like she had, not without becoming lost to the darkness and losing control far too quickly. With her sacrifice, not only did many get to walk home, but there was a shake in the balance that the Gods could not fix nor shake. Looming darkness becoming heavier and heavier each passing day that she did not exist.

 And perhaps... the darkest thing of all was the way fate was rewritten, and she was stripped away of her well earned time to rest will be cut short for their own selfish needs.  

No specific time or year is provided, or location is given to the Trickster. Because he isn’t meant to find her before her time. She is meant to be born, to grow and learn, to become a young adult and live as natural as the course of a human life can allow. Their meeting is a gravitational pull that was suddenly turned on by a switch, and Loki was able to feel the pull from a distance away. He knows that it is Sigyn, that it is his beloved because it’s a pull that he felt a century ago when she was still his. Centered, grounded and strong. Everything she had been when he had been nothing but a God that was crumbling away, barely able to pick up his own pieces. When she had come into his life, it’d been filled with so much disdain and spitefulness that even the thought of how he treated her now made him sick towards himself. All the sacrifices she made, the abuse and hurt she has gone through.

 Even now, he feels a pang of guilt that she must be brought to the world of the living where she is bound to suffer once more. The fact he is happy for this is what brings forth that undeniable guilt. He should have agreed to let the world plummet, so long as she rests. 

When Freya stated Sigyn can be brought back, he had jumped far too quickly on the opportunity. Being selfish would pay off to his benefit, and he’ll happily live with that guilt once she’s in his arms, where she belongs.                           ____________________________________________

Drawing in a breath, he takes in her scent, nose nestled in her darkened hair as he had done before the battle. Only he is much more relaxed, both unwinding on a cushioned bed and loose to little clothing. He’s pressed against her back, and his arm lays around her. Bright shine of the sun is just beginning to peak between the blind gaps, birds singing and chirping as they begin their early day with the rest of the world that is also awakening. After a year of being steady, he’d finally convinced her to move into his penthouse. Where he’s able to keep her close and under his watch and protection at all times. Until her status is unlocked, she is completely under the radar. Both from immortal enemies and Gods alike, but he chooses to believe she still requires his protection. Just in case.

 Allowing his hand to glide up her side, he tucks her hair back, leaning up on his side by propping himself up on his elbow so he can place a kiss to her cheek without waking her. 

Slipping out of bed, he heads to the kitchen where he begins to brew her morning tea, leaning against the counter in deep thought. Today, would be the day she will make her decision.Or so, that she would be presented with her decision. Loki raises a hand, and there’s a smoke of green mist that sparks, tightening before it expands and her helmet appears. For the past century, he had taken care of it, kept it close and hidden away. Lips that are pinched tight pulls into a soft smile, and he has to refrain a laugh from escaping him as the memory of her taunting his horns after he mocked hers. Her voice had come through so crystal clear, he could almost feel the phantom touch of the way she would pull at his horns after he’d purposely bow his head to allow Sigyn the chance to reach. 

Removing the boiling water and placing it aside, he props the helmet on his living room stand first before he prepares the tea. Setting it on the table, he quietly steps back into the room, bending his knees so he’s besides her side of the bed. And he can’t bring himself to wake her up instantly, the way her face is free of all inner demons and stresses that hound her throughout the day, are all gone. Peacefully at rest, and even with the change of hair color, it is his Sigyn. His Sigyn, before her death, his Sigyn when he’d wake moments before her and he would watch over her. If he watched her long enough, he would forget and look past her hair and he could almost swear it was white again. 

Then he’d blink, and the image would be gone. 

                                        “My love, my sun and stars.                                                                             it is time to wake.”

@gcddesscffidelity 

[inu-jiru]

A Fallen Star

Gotta make it…

Gotta make it…

I’ve gotta make it!

Those words had been echoing in Orion’s head for days. The young male raced through the forest undergrowth, his tongue lolling from the side of his mouth. His claws sank into the soft soil, launching him forward with each step. How many miles he had traveled, he couldn’t be sure. But what he did know what that the murderous bear, Monsoon, was in the area. The rancid scent of bear filled Orion’s nostrils, causing him to pick up his pace.

Yamabiko, Andy, Bon...Rigel...everyone...I’m almost there!

He wasn’t supposed to be there. In leaving the fallen Paradise, Orion had broken the promise he made to Akame. Akame… The ginger male gritted his teeth at the thought of the old male. In what seemed to be his last moments, the old ganin had trusted Orion to keep his word, and yet...here he was, far from the army he was supposed to be leading.

Forgive me, old man...I didn’t mean to break your promise, I swear…

The youngster shook his head; there was no time for regrets right now. His paw pads were sore; if he kept on, they might’ve started to blister. But Orion couldn’t stop. Even the slightest delay meant death for for his friends and his brother. Orion’s thoughts wandered to Rigel. Would the dark male even care to see him, despite his intentions? Their final words to each other had not been kind, even if, admittedly...Rigel had been right in some regards. Orion refused to let anyone else say it, but he was no fool; he had been selfish and arrogant lately, nothing like his father or grandfather. But even with his faults, he cared about Rigel. He cared about all of his comrades. It was because of that he was defying Akame’s words, and entering Monsoon’s territory.

How’s that for selfish, Rigel? I’m coming to save you guys. I’m not about to let you die because of Sirius.

A surge of anger suddenly shot through the Akita. Sirius… This was all because of him… He just had to play the self-righteous hero and run off. It was a pity, really. With the power of the three brothers combined, the Paradise could be saved. Alas, something had happened to his older brother, and Orion had no choice but to see him as nothing more than a liability. There were more important things to worry about anyway.

“This way! Monsoon’s stench is growing stronger!”

The thunderous sound of pawsteps filled the air as the runaway Ohu soldiers galloped down the forest path. Leading the pack was Akakamakiri, the now ex-member of Ohu’s ranks. His nose quivered, searching for any sign of Sirius’ scent.

Sirius, thought the Wolfhound. Where the hell are you?

“We mustn’t go on any further!” Rocket’s voice rang out from behind him. “We’ll surely be killed if we just run in like this!”

“Pheh,” Akakamakiri scoffed, not even bothering to look back. “For an Ohu dog, you sure talk about running away a lot. Stop trying to tell us what to do. We’re going to Sirius and that’s that. Now either shut up or beat it.”

The Borzoi shook his head, letting out a frustrated sigh. Beside him, Rigel gave him a sympathetic stare. Even if Akakamakiri and the others continued to be stubborn, Rocket’s efforts were definitely appreciated. If only some other sensible dogs could’ve joined them…

Onward, the small pack went, until the forest ended, and revealed the open hills. They paused, panting from exhaustion. The Kamakiri brothers pressed their noses to the ground and began to sniff about while the others watched.

“Eh?” Kurokamakiri lifted his head, staring at his comrades. “What are you guys waiting for? Come and help! Even if your nose isn’t that great, it beats standing around.”

With that, the young males, Gennai, and Tsuyoshi walked after the Wolfhound brothers, joining them. Rigel and Rocket stood at the side. Even if they were running with them, they were making it very clear that they no intention on actually helping in their foolish plans. A low growl emitted from Akakamakiri’s throat, but he said nothing. Finally, Yamabiko spoke up.

“Here!” he yipped. “Sirius and Orion went this way!” Without waiting a second, Akakama and Kurokama rushed off.

“You’re welcome…” Yamabiko murmured, staring after them.

“Let’s just go,” said Gennai gruffly.

The males were off again, making their way up and down the hillsides, and entering the next patch of forest.

GRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRR!

Monsoon’s heart-stopping roar shook the earth. Following it was the familiar sound of barking dogs. One in particular caused Akakamakiri’s ears to perk.

“Could it be…?” he began.

“It’s Sirius, brother!” Kurokama yipped. “Let’s go!”

“Wait!” Rocket began, but it fell on deaf ears as the Kamakiri brothers, Yamabiko, Andy, Bon, Gennai and Tsuyoshi picked up their pace. “Dammit…”

“Come on,” said Rigel. “Maybe we can get through to Sirius, and get out of here before anyone tries starting a fight.”

“Hopefully…”

Sirius couldn’t move, only able to stand stalk still, staring wide-eyed as the Demon Bear tore apart the hound dogs who had been sent to smell him out. The tora-ge hadn’t even gotten to know their names...now, they were dead, and for what? To kill a bear who had done nothing to them? A surge of rage built within Sirius’ chest as he watched the final hound bite down on one of Monsoon’s toes, trying desperately to make him suffer.

“Stop!” Sirius ordered. “Leave Monsoon alone! You’re only angering him more!”

“Stop?” the hound growled back, his teeth sinking deeper into the bear’s flesh. “Stop!? He slaughtered my comrades; I’m not stopping!”

“He’ll just kill you too!” argued the Akita. “Don’t make the same foolish mistake! I can talk to Monsoon, get him to stop--”

“Gah!” The hound had been kicked away effortlessly, knocking him flat on his back. He had only a second to realize Monsoon’s foot wes coming down on him.

“Monsoon!” Sirius barked. The bear didn’t acknowledge the tora-ge as he crushed the last hound beneath his paw. Red liquid flowed out, turning the grass a bright shade of crimson. Still, Sirius called to the bear, his determination never fading. “Zion, come here and translate for me! Maybe we can calm him down!”

The white Akita peered out at his comrade from the shrubberies. Disbelief was radiant in his eyes. Sirius stamped his paws.

“Zion! Zion, come out here!” Monsoon’s eye fell upon the tora-ge, his tongue running along his blood-covered paws.

“You’re still here?” the bear growled. “You pitiful mutt...I’ll smash you to pieces!” Monsoon brought up his monstrous paw, and brought it down on the unsuspecting Sirus. Zion’s eyes widened.

“Sirius!” he cried. “Look out!”

“Sirius!”

A flash of red and black shot through the sky. Sirius looked up, and to his surprise, spotted Akakamakiri and Kurokamakiri latching onto Monsoon’s paw. Monsoon bellowed in pain, his paw thrashing wildly to shake them off, but the Wolfhounds refused to let go.

“Akakama…” murmured Sirius, dumbfounded. ‘Kurokama…”

“Sirius!” Bon’s voice rang out. “Oh my God!” Sirius glanced back, seeing his old comrades emerge from the foliage. They surrounded the Akita, eyeing Monsoon carefully.

“Those idiots,” Rocket hissed, glaring up at the Kamakiri brothers. “They’re going to get themselves killed…”

“Let’s get Sirius out of here,” said Rigel, stepping close to his brother, and nudging him towards the undergrowth. Sirius backed away, staring at Rigel as if he had suddenly grown a third eye.

“Rigel…?” questioned Sirius. His eyes darted from face to face. These dogs...did they really come to save him? Akakama and Kurokama...had they learned nothing from the months before? Were they really going to torture Monsoon further? The tora-ge’s lip curled back in a snarl, and he began to bark at his former leaders. “Let go of Monsoon!”

“Not this again…” Andy muttered.

“Get him away from here,” Rigel ordered. “Now.”

“What? No!” Sirius began to struggle as the other dogs began pushing him towards the shrubberies. “Zion! Zion, help me! Tell Monsoon to stop fighting the Kamakiri brothers! DO SOMETHING!”

“Shut up!” Monsoon threw down his paw. “Enough with your annoying barking!” Akakamakiri and Kurokamakiri braced themselves, and jumped off the bear’s paw just as it smacked the ground. They rushed to the other dogs, Akakamakiri attempting to pick up Sirius by the scruff.

“Let’s go, Sirius,” said the red Wolfhound. “We’re not letting you die here, not after all you’ve done for us.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Sirius snapped. There was a pause. Everyone was taken aback; it seemed Sirius’ patience had finally reached its limit. “I’m trying to stop this war once and for all, can’t you see that? Why must you all insist on torturing Monsoon so much? He hasn’t done a thing to you now! He just wants to be left alone!”

“So why don’t you leave him alone?” Rocket suddenly asked. Sirius paused, shooting a stern look at the Borzoi.

“Because I understand him! I know you all are hurting him! I’m the only one who can save him from bloodthirsty dogs like you!” Everyone was prepared to argue, to put it in Sirus’ head once and for all that this talk of “saving” Monsoon gone on for far too long. But not a word got out, at least not one that got Sirius’ attention. The tora-ge had suddenly torn through the other males, rushing to stand in front of Monsoon. The bear glared down at him, his paw raised, ready to kill.

“Still you approach? You must really desire death. Very well; allow me to give you what you ask for, mutt.”

“Hold on, Monsoon!” Sirius demanded. Monsoon ignored him, his paw hanging over the dog.

“Sirius, get away!” Rigel shouted, his heart racing. This was it. Sirius had finally lost his mind. “Please, bro!”

“Listen to Rigel!” Yamabiko added. The others began to join in, ordering and pleading for Sirius to find his sanity. But alas, it was hopeless. Sirius glanced towards the bushes Zion had hidden himself in. The white Akita stared back at him, a strange, new emotion in his eyes. But Sirius had to desire to decipher it. He needed his translator.

“I won’t ask again, Zion! Come here and translate for me, now!”

“No…” Zion finally said, his voice soft. “I won’t translate anymore…”

“...What?” Sirius’ ears fell slightly. “Zion...Zion, quit messing around. Come here, I need you! I--”

“DIE!” Monsoon’s roar drowned out the dogs’ words, and he finally brought his paw down. Sirius gazed up at Monsoon, his eyes begging Monsoon to stop.

“Monsoon…”

“NO!”

Sirius let out a panicked yelp as he felt a sudden force push at his side. He was set flying, landing with a thud on his side in the grass. There was a muffled cry of pain as Monsoon’s paw finally fell still.

“Rigel!”

“God! God, please, no!”

Sirius looked back over his shoulder, seeing just who had given up their life to save his. The back half of Rigel’s body stuck out from beneath Monsoon’s paw, one of the claws piercing right through his back. His hind paws kicked rabidly, as if it would somehow help him to free himself. A stunned and horrified silence fell over the other dogs.

“...Rigel…?” was all Sirius could think to say. Just then, Monsoon began to bring up his paw, bringing the impaled Rigel up with it. He opened his drooling maw, and was about to feast on the unfortunate male, when suddenly, another streak of red flew through the air, up towards Monsoon’s face. Sirius stared up at it, his head tilting slightly. Who on Earth was…?

“AHHHHHHHHHHH!” the newcomer unleashed a powerful battlecry, catching everyone’s attention.

“Who…?” Andy began.

“That sounds like…” murmured Yamabiko.

“Orion!” Bon shouted.

Indeed, soaring overhead, performing his family’s greatest technique, was Orion. He had finally arrived.

“You again…!?” grunted Monsoon, his single eye widening in alarm. Orion was getting dreadfully close. The Demon Bear recalled the past, when his father was killed by Gin. He remembered how his head had been ripped from his body in a single swipe. Fear overpowered his anger, and Monsoon quickly dove to the side. However, he had not been fast enough to avoid the Battouga entirely. Orion whizzed past his head, his fangs slicing through the bear’s tough skin with ease. A long, deep gash had formed in the side of Monsoon’s head, spurting out blood.

GRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRR!

Wave upon wave of stinging pain washed through Monsoon’s body, sending him into a fit of rage. His paws swung up, clutching his head. The sudden, jerking movement caused Rigel to slip free of Monsoon’s claw, and he feel down, down, down to the ground.

CRUNCH!

“Rigel!”

The Akita’s comrades rushed to him quickly. Even Zion stepped out from the bushes, going to Rigel’s aid. Monsoon stormed off, bellowing and tearing away at the flora in his rage. It wasn’t long before there was a grim silence. Up above, Orion landed on a high branch, stopping to catch his breath.

“Rigel…” he panted. “Oh, shit...I hope I wasn’t too late…”

Orion began to jump down the branches, making his way to the forest floor. As he grew closer and closer to the scene, he could make out the voices of his comrades.

“We need to get him back to Ohu!”

“There’s no way we can get him back in time.”

“Bullshit! Why are we wasting time talking when we could be doing something to save him!?”

Orion’s heart skipped a beat.

No…

“Rigel!” Orion cried as he jumped into the clearing. The eyes of his comrades feel upon him, but he ignored them, looking only at his brother. Rigel’s broken body lied in the grass, blood pooling around it. His eyes were glazed over in shock. Orion took a step back, his head slowly beginning to shake.

“Orion…” Yamabiko began, his eyes soft with empathy. “I...I’m sorry…” Orion said nothing and quietly walked towards his brother’s body. He rested a paw on Rigel’s shoulder, gently shaking him.

“C’mon, Rigel, get up,” he barked. Despite his efforts to hide it, his voice was cracking. “D-Don’t be a baby...Y-You’re fine…Look, I’m here now. We can take Sirius and g-go home...”

“Or…Ori…” Rigel tried to speak, before he violently began coughing, spitting up more blood.

“Don’t make him talk, Orion,” said Rocket, trying his best to speak calmly despite the situation.

“L-Let’s just go get help…” said Bon, his paws shuffling about worriedly.

“It’s too late for help,” barked Gennai grimly. “He’s already lost too much blood, and if we move him…”

“Don’t say that, goddammit!” Tears were beginning to stream down Orion’s cheeks. “We’re gonna take you home, and you’re gonna see Grandpa, and Dad, and M-Mom, and B-Bella, and…” Orion came to a stop when he felt Rigel’s paw rest on his. Despite the pain from his wound, the black Akita couldn’t help but smile. Even if his last words to Orion hadn’t been the kindest, Orion was still his brother, and he could never hate his flesh and blood. Rigel’s eyes then wandered over to Sirius, who stood a short distance away from the other dogs. Slowly, he extended his other paw to the tora-ge. Sirius hesitantly walked over, earning himself a cold stare from his ginger brother.

“Guys...” Andy barked in warning.

A brief moment of silence passed, before Sirius and Orion looked away from each other. Orion lied down, his head lightly brushing Rigel’s. Sirius soon did the same, and with the last bit of strength he could muster, Rigel wrapped his forelegs around his brothers’ shoulders, pulling them in for one last hug.

“I...love...you...guys…” Rigel choked, his voice barely higher than a whisper.

“Aw, Rigel…” Orion sniffled. “Cut the sappy crap...you’re...you’re gonna be...aw, dammit, Rigel...I...I love you, too, bro…” Orion buried his nose into Rigel’s cheek, giving him a tender nuzzle. He heard the shuffling of paws, and looked back to see that Sirius had removed himself from Rigel’s embrace, and was now standing over his brother, staring down at him with his usual, stoic expression. Orion snarled.

“Well? What are you waiting for!? Tell Rigel you love him, or...or I’ll beat the hell outta you!” Sirius disregarded Orion’s words, letting out a sigh and shaking his head.

“You should’ve just stayed in Ohu,” he said. “But you didn’t know better. I forgive you, Rigel, and I promise, I won’t let your death be in vain.”

“...What?” Orion gawked at Sirius. Even the other males couldn’t help but look at Sirius in utter confusion. “Who the hell do you think you are, talking about forgiving him? If anything, Rigel should be forgiving you! Go on, apologize to him!” Orion turned to Rigel. “Rigel, don’t you dare die, not before Sirius apologizes.” Rigel didn’t respond, instead, lying motionless, his eyes now closed. Orion’s heart began to pound as he raced to his brother’s side, shaking his body again.

“Hey! Hey, Rigel! W-Wake up! Sirius hasn’t apologized yet!” Rigel didn’t stir. Orion’s ears pressed flat against his skull. “Rigel! RIGEL!” Orion threw his forelegs around his fallen brother and began to cry. It was, perhaps, the first time in his life that he had ever shown true emotion for another dog. Yamabiko, Bon, Andy, Zion, Rocket, Gennai and Tsuyoshi joined Orion’s side, shedding their own tears for the fallen star. Sirius backed away, standing near the Kamakiri brothers.

“I…” Sirius began quietly. “I think I should go…”

“What?” replied Akakamakiri in surprise. “After all that, you’re still just gonna run off to that bear?”

“I’ve been set back by all this. I need to go and try to calm Monsoon down…”

“Stop acting stupid, Sirus. We’re taking you back to Fatugo Pass.”

“No. I won’t go back.” Sirius looked Akakamakiri right in the eyes. The red Wolfhound snorted; he was beginning to grow agitated.

“You’re going back one way or another,” he barked. “And if I have to drag you back, I will.”

“Or,” Sirius began. “You can come with me.”

“Eh?” Kurokamakiri spoke up. “What are you on about?”

“Listen, I can’t go back. I won’t go back. I need to protect Monsoon, no matter what anyone says. You guys may not understand, but I know you won’t leave if I ask. So come with me, keep me company.” Akakama and Kurokama shared a glance. Neither of them had any interest in Sirius’ gaming of befriending the Demon Bear, but it wasn’t as if they could just go back to Ohu. Perhaps...perhaps they could still help Sirius, they way he had helped them in the past.

“Fine,” Akakama finally said. “Let’s go.” Sirius nodded, and together, the three ran off. Andy’s ear twitched, and he glanced back.

“Hey, Sirius and the Kamakiri brothers,” he yipped. “They’ve run off again!”

“How annoying,” Gennai grumbled. “We were just about finished here, as well…”

“C’mon…” Rocket prepared to run. “They couldn’t have gone off too far. We can still--”

“What’s the point?”

There was a silence as everyone glanced at Orion. The red Akita’s tears had finally come to a stop, but he still clung tightly to Rigel’s body. He spoke in a voice that was oddly calm, albeit a bit scratchy from his wailing. Admittedly, it was alarming. Orion never acted like this, especially when something bad was going on. He would yell, bite, kick, headbutt...this...this just wasn’t Orion.

“Don’t you guys get it?” Orion continued. “He only cares about that bear now. He...He doesn’t care about Ohu anymore, just making that...that Demon happy...He...he killed his own brother and he doesn’t even care…” Another batch of tears streamed down Orion’s face.

“Orion…” Yamabiko began, taking a step towards him.

“Just leave me alone.” Yamabiko let out a small whine. Bon gave him a nudge.

“C’mon, Yamabiko...let’s just go and see if we can catch up to Sirius, ok?” the white Shepherd barked. The Kai took one last look at his friend, before sighing, and nodding. The remaining males rushed off after Sirius, Akakamakiri and Kurokamakiri. The sun was beginning to set, the sky a gentle orange. The forest began to grow dark and cold. But not even the even winds matched the coldness that filled Orion’s heart.

“I’m sorry, Rigel...I...I’m so sorry…”

[dawnasiler]

Editor's Picks: 18 of the Best Cream Cleansers (For When Your Skin Is Feeling Dry or Sensitive)

If you've got dry skin, sensitive skin, or skin that always feels tight after cleansing, then you may want to switch to a cream cleanser.

Also known as cleansing cream, this type of formula is both gentler and more hydrating than other kinds of face wash, like foams and gels. 

That's because these cleansers have a creamy texture, which doesn't produce a lather. Not only do they clean the skin without throwing off its pH or stripping its protective barrier, but they also deposit moisturizing ingredients.

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But not all cream cleansers are made equal! Here's what I look for, plus the best products I've found to date.

What to Look for in a Cream Cleanser 

Cream cleansers from Omorovicza, MV Organic Skincare, Burt's Bees and Dr Roebuck's.

When choosing a cream cleanser, you want to check the ingredients list for the following criteria:

Sulfate-free: Sulfates are harsh detergents that are too stripping and irritating for a cream cleanser... or ANY cleanser, for that matter! Look for products with gentler surfactants, such as sodium cocoyl isethionate and cocamidopropyl betaine, or no surfactants at all.

Silicone-free: Silicones are synthetic smoothing agents that leave an occlusive film on the skin surface that can be difficult to remove (and clogs pores!). For that reason, I don't think they belong in a cleanser.

Petroleum-free: Usually listed as mineral oil, petroleum derivatives are also very occlusive and don't absorb. Dr. Ava Shamban even asserts that mineral oil can damage the skin barrier and cause water loss.

Hydrating ingredients: Instead of silicones and mineral oil, cream cleansers should include emollients and humectants to bring moisture to the skin. Think: glycerin, squalane, coconut oil, fatty alcohols, shea butter, etc.

PUFA-free or low-PUFA: PUFA stands for polyunsaturated fatty acids, which are unstable plant oils that quickly oxidize. Since you don't want to rub rancid ingredients over your skin, choose stable oils or an oil-free formulation. If you must use PUFAs in your cleanser, keep the product in the fridge and use it up within two months.

Fragrance-free or low-fragrance: In a cleanser, this isn't as problematic as it would be in a leave-on product (like moisturizer), but it's still best to limit your exposure to irritating fragrance ingredients if possible.

I've also noted the paraben content and cruelty-free status of each product below.

Some cream cleansers rinse clean with just water, while others require more careful removal. So make sure to check out my cleansing cream tutorial for tips on how to use them the right way!

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The Best Cream Cleansers

Dr Roebuck's Noosa Nourishing Creme Cleanser

✓Sulfate-free ✓Silicone-free ✓Petroleum-free ✓PUFA-free ✓Paraben-free ✓Cruelty-free

Dr Roebuck's Noosa Nourishing Creme Cleanser

Dr Roebuck's Noosa Nourishing Creme Cleanser is one of my favourites—a lightweight cream cleanser that would work for ALL skin. It's made with mostly natural ingredients, including jojoba and macadamia oils, and is free of fragrance except for a little bergamot oil (which gives it a lemony scent). In my testing, I found that it rinsed clean with just water.

Naturally Serious Major Moisture Gentle Cream Cleanser

✓Sulfate-free ✓Silicone-free ✓Petroleum-free ✓PUFA-free ✓Paraben-free ✓Cruelty-free

Naturally Serious Major Moisture Gentle Cream Cleanser

Naturally Serious Major Moisture Gentle Cream Cleanser is a recent arrival to Sephora's clean beauty department, and it's formulated with "no B.A.D. ingredients"—meaning bad, ambiguous or debatable! You'll find coconut oil and a coconut-based surfactant in here, along with several plant extracts and antimicrobial probiotics. 

Arcona Four O'Clock Flower Gentle Cleansing Cream

✓Sulfate-free ✓Silicone-free ✓Petroleum-free ✓PUFA-free ✓Paraben-free ✓Cruelty-free

Arcona Four O'Clock Flower Gentle Cleansing Cream

Arcona Four O'Clock Flower Gentle Cleansing Cream is formulated for all skin, especially reactive skin. It's named for the Mirabilis jalapa flower, which helps calm and take down redness. The two types of clay will draw out impurities, while hyaluronic acid and seaweed will deliver hydration.

Beautycounter Nourishing Cream Cleanser

✓Sulfate-free ✓Silicone-free ✓Petroleum-free ✓Low-PUFA ✓Paraben-free ✓Cruelty-free

Beautycounter Nourishing Cream Cleanser

Beautycounter Nourishing Cream Cleanser is one of the brand's bestsellers. It has a light texture and can be applied to wet or dry skin, rinsing away easily with water. You'll find a mix of gentle surfactants, fatty alcohols and aloe vera in this formula.

SkinCeuticals Gentle Cleanser

✓Sulfate-free ✓Silicone-free ✓Petroleum-free ✓PUFA-free ✓Paraben-free 

SkinCeuticals Gentle Cleanser

SkinCeuticals Gentle Cleanser is especially suitable for "post-procedure" skin—after lasers, chemical peels, microdermabrasion, IPL or injectables. It contains three percent allantoin, glycerin and orange peel oil, which are softening, soothing and hydrating. You can also use it to remove stubborn long-wear makeup.

Pai Camellia & Rose Gentle Hydrating Cleanser

✓Sulfate-free ✓Silicone-free ✓Petroleum-free ✓Low-PUFA ✓Paraben-free ✓Cruelty-free

Pai Camellia & Rose Gentle Hydrating Cleanser

Pai Camellia & Rose Gentle Hydrating Cleanser is one of the mildest cleansers you'll find, perfect for sensitive skin and eczema. It is completely free of detergents, and instead is high in camellia oil, castor oil, glycerin and shea butter. So you'll want to use a warm, wet cloth to remove it properly—and it just so happens to come with one! One side is muslin for gentle exfoliation, and the other is a soft terry flannel.

Kypris Cleanser Concentrate

✓Sulfate-free ✓Silicone-free ✓Petroleum-free ✓Low-PUFA ✓Paraben-free ✓Cruelty-free

Kypris Cleanser Concentrate

Kypris Cleanser Concentrate is a unique concentrated cream cleanser that comes in a pot. A little goes a long way—all you need is a pearl-sized drop on dry skin. Then, by adding a few drops of water, it emulsifies into a milk. Like all Kypris products, it's loaded with plant extracts and oils.

Omorovicza Moor Cream Cleanser

✓Sulfate-free ✓Silicone-free ✓Petroleum-free ✓PUFA-free ✓Paraben-free ✓Cruelty-free

Omorovicza Moor Cream Cleanser

Omorovicza Moor Cream Cleanser is not just for dry skin; it's also for oily, acne-prone and combination types. The star ingredient is a mineral-rich Hungarian Moor mud, which has both purifying and nourishing benefits. Plus it has zinc oxide, which may balance sebum production to help pores look smaller. I love this for a morning cleanse, or a second cleanse in the evening (after first removing makeup).

Kora Organics Cream Cleanser

✓Sulfate-free ✓Silicone-free ✓Petroleum-free ✓Low-PUFA ✓Paraben-free ✓Cruelty-free

Kora Organics Cream Cleanser

Kora Organics Cream Cleanser is specifically made for normal to dry complexions. Miranda Kerr says it's her go-to cleanser for removing heavy makeup at the end of the day, without drying out her skin. I love that the base is aloe vera (not water), and it's high in glycerin and macadamia oil.

Kora Organics Gentle Cleanser

✓Sulfate-free ✓Silicone-free ✓Petroleum-free ✓Low-PUFA ✓Paraben-free ✓Cruelty-free

Kora Organics Gentle Cleanser

Kora Organics Gentle Cleanser is a richer cream cleanser designed for sensitive skin. It, too, is high in aloe, glycerin and macadamia oil, but with a more soothing blend of plant extracts and fewer essential oils. Miranda says she uses this one after travel or sun exposure.

Burt's Bees Brightening Daily Facial Cleanser

✓Sulfate-free ✓Silicone-free ✓Petroleum-free ✓Low-PUFA ✓Paraben-free 

Burt's Bees Brightening Daily Facial Cleanser

Burt's Bees Brightening Daily Facial Cleanser is my favourite drugstore option. (They actually sell another cream cleanser, the Intense Hydration Cream Cleanser, but it's too high in fragrance!) This is a 98.7 percent natural, olive oil-based cream that does a good job of cleansing and rinses clean with water. If you wear a lot of makeup, you may want to precede it with a makeup remover at night.

Blume Daydreamer Super Gentle Face Wash

✓Sulfate-free ✓Silicone-free ✓Petroleum-free ✓PUFA-free ✓Paraben-free ✓Cruelty-free

Blume Daydreamer Super Gentle Face Wash

Blume Daydreamer Super Gentle Face Wash is from a new company specializing in chemical-free feminine hygiene products and self-care items. This cleanser is in fact one of the most natural formulations I've seen, and features olive oil, coconut oil, Moor mud and glycerin.

MV Organic Skincare Gentle Cream Cleanser

✓Sulfate-free ✓Silicone-free ✓Petroleum-free ✓PUFA-free ✓Paraben-free ✓Cruelty-free

MV Organic Skincare Gentle Cream Cleanser

MV Organic Skincare Gentle Cream Cleanser feels so good, you almost want to leave it on as moisturizer (but please don't!). Rich in camellia, olive and coconut oils, it is nourishing and gentle for dry and sensitive skin, but also lightweight enough for oilier folks. They recommend that you remove it with a warm, wet cloth.

Aurelia Probiotic Skincare Miracle Cleanser

✓Sulfate-free ✓Silicone-free ✓Petroleum-free ✓Low-PUFA ✓Paraben-free ✓Cruelty-free

Aurelia Probiotic Skincare Miracle Cleanser

Aurelia Probiotic Skincare Miracle Cleanser is an award-winning creamy cleanser that both removes makeup and cleans your skin—you just need to remove it with a soft muslin cloth. It is quite aromatic, and boasts an all-natural ingredients list (including shea butter, cocoa butter and plant essences). This one can be used on all skin types.

Peet Rivko Gentle Cleanser

✓Sulfate-free ✓Silicone-free ✓Petroleum-free ✓PUFA-free ✓Fragrance-free ✓Paraben-free ✓Cruelty-free

Peet Rivko Gentle Cleanser

Peet Rivko Gentle Cleanser is completely fragrance-free—so there's no synthetic perfume or even essential oils in here. It's from a new natural skincare line that's geared at sensitive skin in particular (but can be used on all skin, of course). The ingredients list is super short and includes glycerin, green tea and aloe vera.

Honua Hawaiian Skincare Pa'akai Cleansing Cream

✓Sulfate-free ✓Silicone-free ✓Petroleum-free ✓Low-PUFA ✓Paraben-free ✓Cruelty-free

Honua Hawaiian Skincare Pa'akai Cleansing Cream

Honua Hawaiian Skincare Pa'akai Cleansing Cream is packed with tropical ingredients sourced sustainably from farms in Hawaii—such as local sea salt, seaweed, comfrey and hibiscus. (The latter is what gives it the pink colour!) It's suitable for all skin types and can even be left on for 15 minutes as a mask.

Puremay Soft Velvet Cleanser

✓Sulfate-free ✓Silicone-free ✓Petroleum-free ✓Low-PUFA ✓Paraben-free ✓Cruelty-free

Puremay Soft Velvet Cleanser

Puremay Soft Velvet Cleanser is your best bet if you're looking for a K-beauty option with clean ingredients. This is an unusual cream-to-foam formula that produces a rich lather thanks to its mix of gentle surfactants and plant oils. Since it's pH-balanced, it won't strip the skin.

Acure Seriously Soothing Cleansing Cream

✓Sulfate-free ✓Silicone-free ✓Petroleum-free ✓PUFA-free ✓Paraben-free ✓Cruelty-free

Acure Seriously Soothing Cleansing Cream

Acure Seriously Soothing Cleansing Cream is very affordably priced, and formulated with gentle, non-toxic surfactants. It also contains hydrating and soothing ingredients like chamomile, calendula and coconut oil. Despite the creamy texture, it is said to rinse off easily with just water.

Shop Editor's Picks

Do you use cream cleanser? Have you tried any of these?

Editor's Picks: 18 of the Best Cream Cleansers (For When Your Skin Is Feeling Dry or Sensitive) syndicated from The Skincare Edit