#i don't remember how we crossed paths but we did and she was so smart and so understanding

[mainfaggot]

the last time i felt emotionally fulfilled in a friendship was when i was 15, and before that when i was 13. im turning 21 next month

[runningfrom2am]

cold nights // part sixteen

summary: you showed him colours he knows he can't see with anyone else.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.3k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, r is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: i am so excited for you guys to see everything I've got coming up for this series- ah!! also, should i post the masterlist for requiem soon?? i can't post the first part just yet, but i'm excited ab it so let me know if you guys want to see that to be able to get the vibes and stuff!

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist

"Hello there, Miss." Coryo grins at you, extending his arm to you to hold as you step out of your house and close the door behind you.

You pretend not to see, reaching down to retie your shoe which was already laced up perfectly. "Hi." You reply quietly, and his smile fades. You already seem in weaker spirits than you were this afternoon.

"Did you enjoy your nap?" He asks as you stand up straight again, making your way down the front path of your house to the street and he follows like a stray dog.

You turn when you reach the road, looking at him only briefly. "I did. Thank you." You mumble, unable to make extended eye contact without your heart beating out of your chest. It was hard to tell if you were awake or asleep when he was around.

"That's good." He nods, joining your side. He's there to walk you to The Hob, but he honestly was relying more on you to guide the way.

You don't say anything, walking with your arms crossed carefully, protectively across your midsection.

Coryo is worried, but he does know that you don't want to walk alone at night, so he tries to convince himself it's just that. Not him.

"You, uhm, you look nice." He tells you, taking notice of your change of clothes. It was refreshing to see you in something other than that short dress with the sewn-in shorts, though with the longer skirts you had worn today, it covered much more of your skin. Part of him missed the short dress that was now most definitely unwearable. It was your favourite, he remembered.

"Thank you." You say back, the hair on your arms pricking up from the chill that was starting to settle in. It wasn't a cold night, you didn't think, but colder than Twelve often saw in mid-August. Maybe it was just you. "You do, as well."

He laughs, and you look at him for the first time tonight. His blue eyes shine with the reflection of the sunset, and you're no longer cursing yourself for trusting him to walk you this afternoon. He wouldn't hurt you, and you knew that. Stupid dreams. Stupid nightmares. He saved you- he's the only reason you're alive today, you're certain.

"We're trying to blend in, Sejanus thought we were scaring people." He explains, laughter subsiding.

You smile at him. "I was going to say, that style doesn't feel like your own." You giggle. "But I like it."

"Why, thank you." He grins, tugging on the front of his white t-shirt as if he was adjusting a suit jacket.

Your dreams were just dreams. If he had that evil in him, could you live with it? That was what you had to figure out. Right now, though, with you, that darkness was nowhere to be seen. You were awake. You must be.

"How has Twelve been treating you so far?" You ask, suddenly self-conscious of his impression of your home as your feet crunch over the gravel path beneath you.

"Okay." Coryo shrugs, shoving his hands into his pockets. "It was hard to find someone to talk to us long enough to get a lead on where to find you."

"People tend to keep to themselves." You explain. "Also looking for me is an odd request."

"Why?"

Now it was your turn to shrug. "No one really wants to talk to me now, either." The stares you got were seemingly endless. People would stare, point, whisper, and it didn't particularly bother you, but you hated that maybe people were afraid. You feared that everyone thought the games turned you into something fragile, and they were scared of upsetting you with the wrong words or the alternative; you were a weapon ready to explode at any moment.

"That's because people are careless and cruel." Coryo replies, no hesitation behind his tone. "And they have no way of understanding... you."

"They're good people, honestly, I just-"

"I know that." He assures you, sensing your panic. "But it's not your place to prove to them who you are. Changed or not."

"Do you think I have changed?" You ask, genuinely curious despite the softness of your voice.

Coryo is quiet for a moment. "I would say no," He looks at you as you walk alongside him. "but you have, I think. There's more to you, now."

You chew on your lip, watching your steps as you pass under the streetlights.

He watches your reaction, nervous when you don't respond. "I don't mean that in a bad way." He clarifies. "To me, you're still you." He wants to tell you you're less naive, more experienced, that it will keep you safe, but he feels as though that wouldn't be the right thing to say. "But it's impossible to walk out of that arena the same person. We have that in common."

The flickering street lamps illuminate the blush on your cheeks for just a moment. "Thank you, Coryo. That means a great deal." 

"Of course." He hums, walking close enough now to just brush your arm with his own.

Your heart leaps in your chest, from fear or excitement you aren't sure- but you're grateful to be able to finally hear the music coming from The Hob as you approach the rundown building.

There's nowhere else you would want to be any less than The Hob during one of Lucy Gray's shows. You loved her, The Covey, the beautiful and fun music they made together, but since you'd been home, it had been impossible to enjoy yourself there.

You didn't even try until tonight.

Your fears came true. Almost as soon as you and Coriolanus walked in, scattered eyes were on you. You could feel it like pricks in your skin. It didn't help that you were with a stranger. People were dancing, drinking, laughing, but you couldn't help but feel like the laughs were directed at you. Certainly, some staring was.

Coryo looks down at you, seeing your hands still gripped onto your own arms, holding yourself together. He wasn't great with crowds, and seemingly neither were you. His urge was to retreat to the nearest wall, and so was yours. "Let's see if we can track down Sejanus." He offers, holding his arm out behind you while he looks around.

He doesn't want to touch you for fear of making things weird, but god, would it just be so easy to slip his arm around your waist and guide you more effectively. 

"There." He almost doesn't hear you over the music and the shouting surrounding you both, but he follows your finger as you point over to the bar, leaning down closer in case you speak again.

Sure enough, Sejanus is there chatting with some local guy. Coryo sighs. "I leave him for twenty minutes..." He chuckles, shaking his head. "I'll get him, are you okay to wait here?" He asks and you nod, giving him that smile of yours that he hasn't seen all night.

"Good. I'll be right back." He promises, stepping away and through the crowd to go get your friend.

You watch him go, but your attention is drawn when someone pushes past you rather abruptly which makes you jump. The girl looks at you like you're crazy, as you expected she would, so pulling yourself together again, you find an empty table by the side wall and go to sit down. This was too much for you already; you knew that before you even walked in the door, but you were just here to see your friends. Coryo would come back, Sejanus would be with him, and Lucy Gray would sing her songs while you laughed and talked like normal people do. As soon as they returned, it would be okay.

You keep your head down until you hear them bickering over the normal sounds of the bar.

"We're not here to make friends, Sejanus, we're here to-"

"No, no, I get that, but what's the harm?"

You smile at them, taking a shaky breath. "Welcome back."

"Y/N!" Sejanus grins, looking at Coryo briefly before taking the seat across from you. "Glad you could make it."

"Me too." You nod, avoiding looking at Coryo as he takes the spot standing next to you, considering there wasn't another seat.

"Here," He says, voice low in your ear as he holds a glass out to you. "Got you a drink."

"Oh, thank you." You mumble, blushing as you take it from his hand. You can't think of anything worse than being intoxicated and vulnerable in this environment, but the gesture was nice. You wouldn't deny him that.

He rests his arm on the back of your chair, leaning on it and you rest your arms on the table so you can place the glass down as you look at Sejanus. "Tell me more, what have you been up to?" You ask, desperate for some conversation to distract yourself.

"Well, we graduated." Sejanus answers, nodding toward the boy standing beside you.

"Oh, gosh, congratulations!" You smile, looking between the two of them. Coryo is stone-faced.

"I sent you an invitation." He says into the rim of his glass, looking down at you.

"Oh?" You ask, and Sejanus nods in confirmation.

"We were hoping you'd be able to make it. We were going to come get you." He explains, and Coryo lets the glass scrape against his teeth. It was his invitation that he sent, and he was the one who offered to come get you. Sejanus had nothing to do with it besides encouraging him to actually send the letter.

"I didn't- I didn't get it." You tell them honestly, brow furrowed. "I don't know if I could have... gone back, you know, but I would have at least sent a gift, or something. I am so sorry."

Coryo raises an eyebrow. "You didn't get it?" He asks, almost relieved by the idea.

"No, nothing."

"Oh. Well, nothing could be done then, I suppose." He shrugs it off. Maybe if you truly hadn't received the invite, you haven't received any of the letters he sent. Someone along the route to the address he used decided you weren't worth looking for, and that wasn't your fault. Lucy Gray had told him as much, but he trusted it more falling from your lips.

"Truly, though, I am so sorry I couldn't be there." You say, looking between the two of them with a newfound urgency. You didn't want them to resent you, especially if they thought they had been ignored. "I didn't know, honest."

"Don't worry about it." Sejanus assures you. "We didn't want to be there either."

"But I did, I would have loved to but it's just hard to get out of Twelve and I wouldn't have anywhere to stay and like I said I'm just not ready to go back but I really would have loved to be able to be there for you."

"Y/N, hey..." Coryo chuckles, leaning down again to be face-to-face with you. "We get it. We're not upset with you, I promise."

Promise. The two of you were always making promises to each other, apparently. It made you feel better and he knew that.

"O-okay..." You nod slowly, deciding now is as good a time as any to try your drink. You turn your face from him, having been just inches apart to take a sip. Beer was far from your favourite, but you were never much of a drinker anyway. You place the glass back down and smooth out your skirt over your lap, regaining your normal grin. "Well, Fortune is merry, and in this mood will give us anything."

"Very good point." Coriolanus agrees quickly, tapping his hand on the back of your chair. The smile that crosses your face when you look up at him, thinking he understood and cared to respond makes him want to collapse in on himself and sink into the floor. You deserved so much more than being elated when someone understood you, and he could give you everything if you would just trust him.

"Y/L/N, how dare you show your face here!" A voice calls you by your last name and you snap your head in their direction.

Coryo furrows his brow, watching warily as a boy about his age walks up to your table. He's ready to step in, maybe this is why you hadn't been coming- because people, boys had been harassing you. He should have seen that coming. You were beautiful, every time he looked at you it was hard to look away again- obviously, this kind of attention would be a common occurrence. He lifts his shoulders and puts down his drink, but he looks at you and you're smiling.

"Hi." You giggle, actually giggle- and it makes Coryo almost just as angry as if this random guy had just threatened you.

He leans his elbows against the table. "Been a long time since I seen you. How you been?" He asks, sipping his beer as he makes dead eye contact with you.

"Only a couple of days, River." You grin.

"Oh yeah, that's right..." He hums. "Been real interested in that book you let me borrow, you know."

"Have you?" You smile, leaning in with excitement, ready to discuss it.

Who was this guy? A friend? Something more? The way you were looking at him, the fact that you let him borrow one of your books made envy swirl in Coryo's stomach. He hated it. He clears his throat to remind you they were there before you got sucked into talking about whatever book you gave the boy.

"Oh." You look up at him. "River, this is-"

"Yeah, who are these clowns? Botherin' you?" He interrupts you, and Coryo is more peeved about that than the fact that he was just referred to as a clown.

"Not in the slightest." You hum. "These are my friends, Sejanus and Coryo. They came all the way from the Capitol just to visit me, isn't that sweet?"

"Ah..." The boy hums, standing back up and holding a hand out for Sejanus to shake before turning to Coryo as he keeps his grip on the back of your chair. "Nice to meet you both, then."

"It's Coriolanus." He corrects you as he shakes the boy's hand, squeezing it probably more than what is polite.

"Oh wow." River's eyes widen and he chuckles, looking down at you again. "You're not really the friendly type I guess. Y/N here can make friends with just about anyone, I suppose."

"River..." You frown, shaking your head at him. Coryo clenches his jaw.

"I'm sorry! Sorry, I'm not great with new people either. That's my bad." He laughs it off, patting Coryo's shoulder as he drops his hand. "Anyway, Y/N, I didn't expect to see you out and about. Holdin' up okay?"

"I'm well. Thank you." You nod, taking another sip of your drink. River was a good friend, maybe even a great one. He works with your father in the mines, he started as soon as he turned eighteen a few months before you. You've become closer since then.

"Glad to hear it." He nods at you, looking around the crowded room. He bottoms his drink, shaking it in your face. "Time for a refill so I'm gonna leave ya be, but shout if you need anything, alright sweetheart?"

"Thank you!" You call after him as he turns to walk off, winking at you.

"Sweetheart." Coryo mumbles into his glass with a slight shake of his head as he watches the boy walk away. You didn't hear him, and he wasn't sure he wanted you to.

"Who's that?" Sejanus asks. "He seems nice."

"We went to school together, now he works with my father," You explain. "but I've known him most of my life. He's very kind, just a little... outspoken. He'll always tell you what he's thinking." You chuckle, and Coryo bites his tongue.

You catch his expression of disapproval. "He didn't mean any harm, just trying to be welcoming. He was nervous, I could tell." Returning your gaze to Lucy Gray up on the stage, you smile and give her a quick wave. She smiles back, nodding at you.

"You never mentioned him." Coryo comments.

"Well, I..." You stop yourself, staring down at your lap. "I had a lot on my mind..."

"Do you know anyone else? Give us the tour." Sejanus suggests quickly, pointing around the room.

You smile, forcing yourself to ignore your worries about how Coryo is feeling. "Almost everyone, yes." You giggle, covering your mouth with your hand as you speak.

"Is that why you didn't want to come?" Coryo asks you and you look up at him again, smile faltering.

"I- It's not that I didn't want to." You answer, fidgeting now with the fabric in your lap. "I just... I don't know. It's hard to... I don't know. Everything feels so difficult these days..." You laugh nervously.

There's that word he was so afraid of. Hard. In reference to something as simple as going out and spending time with your peers- people you had clearly considered friends before the games. It seemed like another lifetime to you, he could see it in the way you so intensely watched yourself pick at your own fingernails. He wished while laying in his bed at night that you were happy here, that your life was normal, even if he couldn't be a part of it; but that was unrealistic and part of him knew that.

"It's okay." Coryo reminds you quickly. "You don't have to explain yourself to us." He smiles, trying to be reassuring. "If you want to leave we can go. Just say the word, Y/N/N."

You shake your head, looking back up at him with that same glowing smile that subtly begs him not to worry about you- but he has to. "It's completely okay." You assure him with a quick wave of your hand. "Okay, so..." You drum your fingers on the tabletop, looking around and attaching names to faces.

"That's Sienna, I went to school with her sister." You point over to a girl in a group of a few others. "And she's with Fern and Hazel, Hazel's the one with the light hair." The boy's eyes follow where you're pointing as you look over at another group. "Oh, and over with River, the taller boy next to him is Rowan." You explain. "His little brother is friends with mine. Then over there, by the stage is Billy Taupe- that's Lucy Gray's boyfriend. Kind of, they're on and off these days."

Coryo nods, trying to commit these names to memory. He didn't plan on speaking to any of them, but if you wanted to, which he doubted, he would try. 

"And that's-" Your voice cuts out so quick it's as if someone had slapped a hand over your mouth when another boy walked up to join the two standing by the bar. Quickly Coryo is looking down at you again as the blood drains steadily from your face. You cough, shaking your head. "Uh, I don't really know anyone else's names." You lie.

"You okay?" Sejanus asks you and you nod, quickly grabbing your glass and taking a few large gulps, the foul taste of beer forcing its way down your throat. 

"Yeah, just, I haven't seen these people in a while."

Coryo watches, jaw clenched tight as River converses with the blonde boy who just walked up to him and your other friend whose name he's already forgotten. River takes a swig from his drink, laughs as he puts the glass down on the bar, and then points over to the three of you. He was telling whoever the hell that was that you were there- and clearly you weren't keen on him.

"Let's go, yeah?" Coryo suggests quickly, abandoning his drink on the table to step in front of you. He extends his hand to help you up which you gratefully take. He could feel your hand trembling in his. 

He squeezes your hand gently, still shielding you from the group of boys. You didn't need to say a word. "Sejanus, I'm going to take Y/N home, are you okay here?"

"For sure." He nods, looking worried now at the very sudden shift in your energy and Coryo's clear protectiveness. "Do you want me to come?"

"No, no. It's okay." You smile, comforted by Coryo's presence behind you. "You stay and have fun."

"Alright, well, I'll see you soon?" He smiles and you nod, but Coryo is already guiding you away.

taglist: @soulessjourney , @that-veela-girl ,  @dreamyysouls, @rockstarbfs , @maysileeewrites , @baybieruth , @kitscutie ,  @fratboyharrysgf0201 , @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @drewsandsebastianswife , @niicole-87 , @queenofshinigamis , @innercreationflower , @nallasstuff , @scorpiolystoned , @iovemoonyy , @thatmarvelchick19 , @wearemadeofstardust0 , @regulusblackcore , @puredreamagination , @fantasticchaosthing , @becauseseaotters , @secretsicanthideanymore

okay suddenly tumblr isn't letting me tag more people than this so i just made some cuts unfortunately :') i just left the max amount of people i could whose users i recognized and see in my notifs all the time :) if you're not on here and you should be i'm so sorry!

also this taglist is closed now!! if you’d like to get a notification when i update, turn on my post notifications!! i promise i won’t spam y'all :,)

[raayllum]

thought it was time for an update so:

show quotes

hey sad prince. let’s go get your cube.

rayla is kind and good. she’s fast, fearless, strong—

it means i trust her. unconditionally.

come get some rest.

i don’t care if you’re crying, i’m here with you.

i can’t lose you like this, you mean too much to me.

that was brave, rayla.

i waited too long. i hope you know—i know.

good thinking with aspiro.

you’ve got to stay with me!

but would it be okay, maybe, if i stay? and we just... don't talk?

rayla is selfless, strong, and caring.

i'm glad we can be here together, looking at the stars.

she’s not a fool.

so are you two, like—did-did i interrupt something? between you and—

i’m afraid of hurting him.

i left without him because i couldn't bear to put him in danger.

if you say so, mage.

so, two primal sources. now you're just getting greedy mister mage.

you are so…

i left him alone. i shouldn't have—rayla, don't.

it's a bridge between our two worlds. and now here we are, crossing it together.

callum, are you okay?

rayla, are you okay? rayla, it's okay.

i wasn’t sure if you guys needed two blankets or just one?

just remember me, okay?

i'm so glad you're here. we need to talk.

i'm so happy to see you again, callum.

rayla, if today is our last day… i want you to know—

strong relationships need honesty. the full truth.

but not everything has changed. i would do anything for you.

he’s smart and kind and brave and he’s… 

oh, i get it. kind of a secret forbidden romance situation?

i know that face. it’s the dumb idea face.

the moon ones are the prettiest. yeah, i think so too.

see, you know you’re amazing. you’re smart and fast and beautiful.

you look nice, callum.

we can help them. rayla, we can undo this spell.

but no more detours. or heartfelt speeches.

if you die out there, i swear i’ll kill you!

you still love her, don't you?

i want to show you everything!

when you care about someone it’s hard to hurt them, even when what you’re telling them is the truth.

but i think - i know i can trust you to help me carry this.

i thought you’d like them!

yup, i draw when i’m upset.

that's the dark magic you want. just... just let her go.

he’s noble, and true.

that’s what makes her a hero. that’s what makes her… rayla.

she's not 'the elf'. she's rayla.

just hold onto me.

you okay?

when you left, it hurt him bad. real bad. he was miserable.

you’ll get through this, you big dumb human.

amazing idea! i'll try it.

i do trust you.

i’ve been thinking about something someone once told me […] you did.

what is he doing to you? let him go!

say the word and i’ll go back into that tower with you.

rayla, i love you.

my friend. my best friend.

thank you.

then take another path, dummy.

thanks for humouring me, rayla.

hold on rayla!

no, not at all. but i enjoyed it. 

we should decide together.

together.

we had something so special.

listen to me! rayla doesn’t deserve this!

no, i meant what i said. you don't need to explain or justify anything to me. you can tell me when you're ready.

but then you spread your wings, and you saved me.

are you doing alright?

rayla, i... need you.

all that talk about how love makes you stronger, but the second you see that elf girl in danger, you completely lost yourself.

i’ll catch you!

because you’re with a girl?

rayla, you’re the most amazing person i’ve ever met.

it doesn’t matter what you did before. i just want you to be okay again. 

i'm so glad that you came back!

to love is simply to know this: the tides are true as the ocean is deep.

cause i love you, rayla. i really do.

i need you to kill me.

i need you to push me.

i believe in you.

we’re gonna be okay. 

when she came back, i was so happy, and so mad at the same time. i wish i could just forgive her.

maybe so. ask your next question. 

and then you called me a mage, and that felt right.

wait. you’ll want to see this.

cause i don't think i can do it without him.

well, i'm glad you liked it.

rayla, are you okay?

i love you, too, callum.

she's alive. and wherever she is, she loves you too.

you don't have to die.

novel quotes

and for some reason she found she wanted to share what she had seen with callum, even if she didn’t tell anyone else.

“No, this is not your fault,” Callum said. He couldn’t let Rayla carry that burden alone. 

he’d been so focused on his drawing the hadn’t even noticed her looming over him. this foggy-brained behaviour was not good. he had to be more aware of his surroundings. he shook his head as he looked back down at his drawing. oh no! he’d been drawing the elf! 

but callum lingered. “are you okay?”

It was a tall order, to stand up when nobody else would. But he owed it to his stepfather - and to Rayla.

rayla met callum’s gaze and held it for a long while, as if trying to decide what to say.

Callum was suddenly struck by an intense wave of gratitude. He’d never met anyone as brave as Rayla. How did he get so lucky as to be her friend?

callum watched rayla in the early morning light through half open eyes.

Callum stared after her. He wished she didn’t have to keep risking her life for them like this.

“you’re a talented artist.”

 Rayla was now one of the best friends Callum had ever had.

he felt a hot blush creep from the bottom of his neck to the top of his forehead. why did he keep embarrassing himself in front of her?

rayla wondered if callum could see in her eyes that yes, everything was wrong

“I’ll follow your lead,” Callum said to Rayla.

“look… rayla,” he said, feeling the still unfamiliar name on his lips.

he couldn’t let rayla carry that burden alone.

despite herself, rayla grinned.

It was one thing for him to do the thing (the jerkface dance) at home… but in front of their new friends? In front of Rayla?

Callum gulped. Rayla’s thin, strong arms wrapped around him meant everything. He smiled and hugged her back.

Could he really bring himself to go through with his plan? What if he didn’t succeed? What if he compromised his beliefs and it all ended up being for nothing? […] But her blade bounced off with a clang, sparks flying. She reeled back and tried again. Nothing happened. She was in trouble. 

additional material quotes

i couldn’t lose you.

a young, talented, dorky mage, but like, cute dorky.

but the second it seems like you’re in danger, i’m jumping in after you.

[my character] cannot help but look at her.

stay away from him!

how long have you two been a thing?

when i woke up, i saw that rayla had been watching over me the whole time. that made me happy. and something else made me happy too: i finally understood the sky arcanum.

that’s… poetic, callum. 

i trust you. and you’re right.

you’re doing great!

i thought you’d make a cute face — but it’s more of a uh, angry cute.

you know i’m always here for you, right?

that’s not cheesy at all, callum. magic is love!

so i know this was supposed to be a family call, is it okay if rayla joins?

i’m not going to risk both of us. 

come here, dummy.

i let you jump into the nexus alone and i knew right away i made the biggest mistake of my life. i could have lost you.

a mysterious elven assassin with two beautiful blades to match [her] two beautiful eyes.

i never want to lose you either. i love you, callum.

i felt stupid for risking my life — and zym’s — but rayla made me feel better, like she always does.

viren has taken away everyone i love — except you.

i love you, too.

but you're basically my best friend. i wouldn't let anything happen to you, no matter what it took.

TDP shorts quotes

"It was the night everything changed. The night we found Zym’s egg, right over there! And it was the night I met—”

And beyond the Border, a warm castle, and a mage—

But I can’t let you stop me, Callum. No matter how much I want to.

It still hurt. She was still gone, and Callum had no idea if she’d ever come back.

He was barely taller than Rayla herself, and couldn’t have been older than—what would he look like now, she wondered? Nearly two years older, a few inches taller—

You’re smiling in your sleep, Callum. You look so cute when you do that. I hope that maybe it’s because you’re dreaming of me.

Callum shook his head. He couldn’t think about her. Not now.

She shut the voice out. Rayla would not humor his haunting. Not today. Not now. 

Humans were frustrating. Humans were clever. Humans could do anything, they could be anything, they could take their own fates and change them—

It was impossible to say her name out loud. Rayla.

And in the crowd behind him, a flash of red. A scarf. For a moment Rayla was somewhere else, far away and safe and warm, following that red scarf instead of turning her back on it—

I have to. I love you too much not to.

I wish I could say that we will see each other again, but I don’t know if we will. I hope so.

She remembered the numbness in her own body, knowing he’d die a violent death at the base of the Storm Spire, and she would quickly follow—until a pair of wings closed around her, saving her, holding her—

I’m carrying it with me! Always. I love you. I love you so much.

"Who are you?" Rayla balked at her. It was an awful question. She wasn’t an assassin, she wasn’t an elf of the Silvergrove, she wasn’t anything at all, she was just—“Rayla.” That voice again. Rayla pushed away, trying to focus on Redfeather. “I’m—” “—selfless, strong, and caring—” He persisted, as he always did, and his voice took her far, far away. She could still see it: the stars of the desert gleaming above her and in his eyes. “—that’s what makes her a hero. That’s what makes her—” “Rayla,” she said, meeting Redfeather’s gaze. “My name is Rayla. And I’m going home.”

[theroseandthebeast]

Yuletide Recs, Batch Five

16 recs for The Queen's Gambit, Red Eye, Sable, Severance, Sherlock Holmes, Silo, Singin' in the Rain, Some Like It Hot, SurrealEstate, Tenet, Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles, Watchmen, and Worlds Beyond Number

something beautiful, Beth Harmon/Jolene

Jolene remembers the first time she looked at Beth and thought her best friend was pretty. No, not pretty. Beautiful.

Sunk Cost Fallacy, Lisa Reisert/Jackson Rippner

The Keefe job gets cancelled. What's a guy to do?

No Straight Roads, Gen, Sable + Original Characters

Five paths taken, six masks cast. Or: On a particularly windswept morning, a young girl comes a-knocking on Sable's door.

O, Lazarus!, Helena Eagan + Helly R.

Losing oxygen slowly as she hangs in the elevator up from the severed floor, Helly’s fractured mind confronts itself.

Double Tongued, Irving Bailiff/Burt Goodman + Burt Goodman/Burt Goodman's Husband + Irving Bailiff & Irving B.

Irving's falling asleep – he almost misses Burt leaving forever. Can his outie make it up to him by reuniting them, one last time? Or, MDR decide to test the Overtime Contigency Protocol on Irving before the Waffle Party, and the code detectors are only equipped to handle certain types of ink.

Indispensable, Gen, Sherlock Holmes + John Watson + Mrs. Hudson

Holmes' gift attempts have fallen through, so he offers a letter instead

her dust was very pretty, Gen, Original Female Character(s)Juliette Nichols

Dore was six when she told Missus Park that she wanted to be her shadow. “You want to work in recycling?” “I don’t want to shadow garbage,” Dore said, nose wrinkling at the thought. “Your art. Art that stays.” Missus Park repeated the words silently, then her mouth dropped open in understanding. “You mean tattoos.”

Working Honeymoon, Cosmo Brown/Don Lockwood/Kathy Selden

If you weren’t getting married, you didn’t get to go on the honeymoon. Wasn't that how it was supposed to go?

That Wondrous Thing, Cosmo Brown/Don Lockwood/Kathy Selden

2 + 2 + 2 = 3. This math works. Really it does.

Girl Talk, Gen, Jerry "Daphne" & Sugar Kane Kowalczyk + Jerry "Daphne" & Joe "Josephine" + Jerry "Daphne"/Osgood Fielding III + Joe "Josephine"/Sugar Kane Kowalczyk

Sugar wants to know if she should be saying "Jerry" or "Daphne" and, since Joe and Osgood don't seem to agree and can't be relied on to tell her which is right, she goes to get it right from the horse's mouth. The horse needs to think about this for a bit.

did we get there yet (somehow), Luke Roman/Susan Ireland

It shouldn’t be a surprise, is the thing. Luke’s always been attracted to smart, competent women. It just hadn’t occurred to him to look at Susan that way until now.

Coffee Meeting: 11 o'clock, Gen, Susan Ireland & Zooey L'Enfant

Susan has a mysterious coffee meeting on her schedule.

pull up if i pull up, Neil/The Protagonist

A safe house in the sea of time. (You’re trying to remember if Neil was smiling the last time your eyes met.)

and in the daylight, you're crossing all your wires, John Connor/Cameron Phillips + John Connor & Derek Reese & Kyle Reese + John Connor & Sarah Connor + John Connor & the Specter of His Future Self

No one’s ever died for him, here.

Across Vistas, Dan Dreiberg/Laurie Juspeczyk/Rorschach

Laurie and the boys take a roadtrip across the country to see her mom.

Charted, Gen, Ame & Suvirin "Suvi" Kedberiket & Eursulon Toma + Grandma Wren

All stories started somewhere, even if that somewhere is far from here.

[karrenseely]

A Letter to my bio mother.

A few years ago my mother wrote me out of the blue, after having not spoken to me for 20 years. She ignored me when I finally managed to graduate college despite all she'd done to me, she (and the rest of the family) ignored me at my father's funeral, she ignored me when I graduated from medical school. That first year after she and dad disowned me I wrote to them about once a month. I never got a response. That Christmas I stopped by our house and dropped off Christmas presents for everyone (Mom, Dad, Sister). Mom wouldn't even look at me and retreated into the house. Dad basically told me to go away, I didn't belong there anymore. It hurt, a lot. Then a few weeks went by, and I got a box in the mail, I was excited because the return address was my old home, I thought maybe, they've finally accepted me and come to their senses. I opened the box and was immediately crushed, they had sent back all the gifts I'd worked so hard to find for them, unopened, still in there wrapping paper. So needless to say, I was very surprised to see she had messaged me on FB, and that old hope resurfaced once again. I opened the message and was crushed... once again. She had sent me a message to yell at me. This is the letter I would have liked to send back. Instead, I blocked her because it hurt so much, even now I second guess that decision because a part of me still wishes she could have loved the daughter she had.

The message I am responding to: "I just saw your go fund me page. Our hope in "cutting you off" was to leave enough time and space for you to grow up and really think about the huge step you were wanting to take. It didn't help that YOU told us it was our fault and then demanded that we pay all your medical expenses to have the surgery. You are as much to blame for the family separation as your Dad and I are. I will accept my part of that blame. I knew when we did it that we might never see you again but it was a risk both of us were willing to take because we were hoping you would not choose to take such a difficult path through life. It was a gamble and we lost, but so did you. You have a wonderful, intelligent, funny, sweet, smart family members you have never even met. Erin's kids, Paul and Kayla. Your loss, believe me. They are great great kids and that is not a comment just from their grandmother. We hear it all the time from other adults that get to know them. When you left I lost my only son, then I lost him again when you had the operation. Not having children you can not begin to comprehend the depth of that pain. Losing a parent doesn't even come close. God gave me a second chance to have a son in my stepson, Karl, and now that has been snatched away from me as well because he committed suicide in April. Do not underestimate the amount of pain and loss your family has gone through because of your choices. Your Dad, Mother, Grandma Seely, Grandpa Seely, and all your aunts and uncles grieved for you and the person we all knew and loved named [Deadname]. Fortunately, your Grandfathers never knew what you were doing as it would have destroyed both of them. Life changes ALWAYS leave huge ripples in the pond. I wish you well in your chosen life but don't place all the blame on the family YOU chose to leave behind."

Dear Mom,

I do not understand you. I am your daughter. I have always been your daughter. On some level I'm sure you've always known this. I'm sure as a toddler I said I was a girl. I remember doing lots of things that were not typical for a little boy, but certainly were for a little girl. So I'm sure you knew, though you denied it. You denied me.

I will always be grateful to you for letting me play dolls and barbie with my sister, for letting me get a doll instead of a transformer, for teaching me how to cross stitch, knit, and encouraging me to read. For teaching me how to do household chores and how to cook. For making sure I took my medicine and staying up with me at night when my asthma was bad, for sending me to camp Not-A-Wheeze, for not letting me die on those horrid nights when I couldn't breathe. For saving my ankle and my ability to walk. For going to bat for me when that teacher really didn't like me because I had such a hard time acting like a boy.

But this is also why you hurt me so deeply. Because I mistook you loving the son you thought you had, that you wanted, for loving me. I was hurting so much. By the time I came to you, I was desperate. I was already self harming, though you never knew. I had already gone through the process of accepting I was trans, not that I liked it, but it was the only way I knew of to find any relief from the torment of not being allowed to be me. I was dying. I was already fighting the shame I'd been taught. I'd already learned it was bad to be a girl, and that it was doubly bad to be girl that everyone insisted was a boy. I had desperately tried to hide it, I was terrified of being friends with girls, because I thought if I was, someone would learn my horrible shameful secret. I had been dealing with these feelings for years before I came out to you. And I knew, if I didn't get help, I wasn't going to survive. So I came to you. But you denied my feelings and called it a phase... except this phase had lasted for years, when I look back, it lasted as long as I could remember, though I didn't understand that at the time.

I was so lost and confused, my parents didn't believe me. I didn't know what to do, so I tried to last a little bit longer. I think I came out to you again. This time you denied I was your daughter again. Things were bad, really really bad. By that time, puberty had already started and was destroying what little comfort I could find in my body, worse, to my horror, my voice started to drop. I knew there was treatment to stop this from happening, and I so desperately needed it. But everytime I asked for help I was denied. Worse, anytime I couldn't hide the fact that I was your daughter you yelled at me, shamed me, made me believe I was freak, a pervert, a monster. I felt so helpless, so hopeless, and so very very alone. I broke. I know I stopped growing mentally at that point. I dissociated so much, that what memories I have are fragmented, and I got stuck at age 15/16 for years. I couldn't cope with the world anymore. Somewhere in there you sent me to a counselor. I didn't know you were hoping he would erase me. And he hurt me, he hurt me so much. I thank the gods and the universe that you didn't force me to continue seeing him, and instead sent me to the only female psychologist in that office... but it was in that office, it was impossible to fully trust her, I never was able to talk about how I was really feeling, because I never felt safe in that office.

I stopped feeling safe at home too, after I came out to you. My parents who were supposed to love, accept, and support me, instead turned on me. Demanded I explain why I existed, why I knew I was a girl. Adult's can't even explain this, and you demanded this of me, a child. And no matter what explanation I managed to draw up, it was never enough for you. Instead you twisted it, and used it to dismantle any self worth I had, any sense of safety I had with you. For some reason, looking back I have no idea why, I trusted you right up to the day you disowned me. I thought I deserved everything you did to me. I thought that if you didn't love me, then no one could. I never even tried talking to my only two real friends I had after you disowned, as I was convinced they would hate me too if I came out to them. Thankfully, I was wrong about that.

Sometime later, I began to learn that what you did to me was wrong, I began to understand it was abuse, but it didn't really sink in, until I was at a queer youth retreat and one of the sessions was about the power and control wheel. It was then that I really saw what you had done to me, that what you were doing to me was abuse. You gaslit me from the day I was born, and everytime I tried to tell you otherwise, you told me I was crazy, I was shameful, I was broken, I sick, I was wrong, I was sin incarnate. You did everything you could to try to control and erase me short of outright murder. Worse, you actually told me you wanted me dead. What kind of mother tells her daughter she wants her daughter dead?

At some point, my maternal grandmother got a hold of me. I think it was a letter via snail mail. I learned that she still wanted to have a relationship with me. She didn't understand, and she constantly misgendered me and dead-named me, but she at least talked to me and welcomed me into her home. Then a few years later after she moved into assisted living for awhile, she disappeared. There was no forwarding address, I had no way to contact her, you stole her away from me. By that time she didn't have the cognitive faculty to get a hold of me on her own. I never saw her again. You took away the only living relative that still wanted a relationship with me... Then years later, you dangled her contact information in front of me, like I had done something wrong by not talking to her all that time. And you told me she was dying. But by that time I had already grieved for her, I couldn't go through that heart break again, and she was so far into her dementia that she wouldn't remember me anyway... why reopen those old wounds. Today I understand that was my CPTSD (from you, my peers, and society's abuse) telling me to avoid anything that would hurt.

Then, seven years ago... gods has it been seven years? It still hurts so much. Seven years ago, you apparently found out about my project to try and create a halfway house for homeless LGBT+ kids. You decided to write me the last message I ever got from you. You blamed me for what you did. That somehow it was my fault that you disowned me. You know, that day that you cut me out of your life, out of our entire family, you showed me your love was conditional. I remember you telling me that you'd take me back if I only would continue to pretend to be a boy for you, but you would be monitoring me to make sure I wasn't letting the real me out. You shattered the love and trust I had in you.

Even if I figured out somehow that I was wrong and I was a boy, how could I go back to you? To parents who never really loved me enough to let me figure everything out, to parents whose love was so conditional. And yet you say you did it for me. That is a lie. You did it for yourselves in a last ditch effort to try and continue to control me to be your imaginary son. You didn't do this to help me understand "what a huge step [I} was wanting to take." I was already well aware, I had spent years figuring that shit out even before the first time I came to you looking for help. I knew what I was in for, I'd had flashes of it for years in the abuse I suffered from my peers when they saw the girl I was trying to hide. I knew it from all the research I had done, from the fellow trans people I knew online by that time.

I didn't choose to be disowned. You chose to not love me, accept me, or support me. You chose to disown me. I didn't have any say in the matter. And yes, how you chose to respond to my distress, my suffering IS your fault. Shaming me for being your daughter when you wanted your imaginary son. Shaming me for being a girl, for teaching me that I was something that needed to be hidden, something horrible, something icky, for forbidding me from talking to my sister about it, the only other person I had ever considered talking to about it after coming out to you, why? The only conclusion I could reach at that age is that I was so sick, so horrible, I would somehow corrupt her too. So I obeyed you and no, I never told her. She learned some of it on her own, but because I wasn't allowed to talk to her about it, she considered me a pervert. I never discussed any of it with her... not until after you disowned me.

So yes it is your fault. I WAS A CHILD! Worse, I was your child! Of Course I thought you would help me! It's why I came to you in the first place, it's why I kept coming to you. Because I WAS YOUR CHILD! I was your daughter and I was suffering so much. The only two paths I could see, that I could ever see was death or finally getting to be me, in a body that didn't constantly hurt me so much. But you denied me all of that. You denied me. You chose to do all of that to me. For what? For an imaginary son that never existed? You broke me. Of Course I blame you for that. I blame you for all the emotional abuse, neglect, and medical neglect you did to me. You were my mother, you were supposed to love ME, not some imaginary person you wanted instead, but ME. It is beyond twisted to me that you think I am as much to blame for what you chose to do to me. I didn't have a say in the matter. I had two options: live and be myself (while apparently losing everyone I ever loved) or dying. I chose to live. I refused to die for you. You haven't accepted any blame at all. You never did. All you do is try to gaslight me into believing that my being your daughter is somehow my fault. I didn't get the choice. You decided to create me. You decided to give birth to me. You decided to accept the responsibility of raising me. And then when I refused to be what you wanted... you threw me away like garbage. The only reason you never saw me again is because you never accepted that you had a daughter instead of a son. You never loved me. You wanted me dead and told me so yourself. With everything I went through growing up, it's a miracle I survived. To this day, I don't know how I did. Not with how much you tried to destroy me. You gambled with my life, hoping I would choose to continue to pretend to be your son, that I would continue to endure the constant torture of not being me. I would not have survived that. I barely survived at all.

Thank you for reminding me how much you took away from me. You took away my parents, my sister, my extended family. You took away everyone I ever loved. Thank you for reminding me that I have never been allowed to meet my niece and nephew, who by now are adults living their own lives. I pray to this day that neither of them were LGBT+, given the family they grew up in... it would have been a nightmare for them. I still grieve that they never tried to get in touch with me, that my sister never allowed me to be part of their lives.

You said when you disowned me you "lost [your] only son." But that's the whole problem. You never had a son. And you refuse to see this. To this day, you deny my existence, and blame me for it. And you assume I don't have kids. I have 3 wonderful kids who are becoming adults as we speak, or are approaching adulthood far to rapidly for my liking. They are amazing. And unlike my niece, nephew, and step brother, you chose to never have them be a part of your life. I am so proud of them. So please don't presume to know how I would understand the pain if I were to lose them. And please don't presume to think that the pain of losing a child is the same as losing everyone you ever loved, of knowing your parents hate you, of knowing your mom wanted you dead. The pain of knowing this when I was still just a child. These are two entirely different traumas. Please don't equate them. And please don't presume that it wasn't you who chose to throw your child away like she was garbage.

When father died, you ignored me, you tried to keep me away from his funeral. If my sister hadn't called me, I would never have known. And then at the funeral you never acknowledged my presence, no one from our family did. Instead you had your church lackeys try to push me out the door while I sat in that chair weeping, grieving. Did you know, that it was then that I finally understood you were not ever going to love me, accept me, or ever be a positive part of my life.

My grandfathers never knew the real me, because you made me believe telling them would kill them. I remember I tried reaching out to one of my uncles once, but it was such a hard conversation, and it only felt like they wanted to get off the phone. They never called me back or tried to reach out to me. No one except my maternal grandmother ever reached out to me in any positive way. So please don't tell me they all grieved for me, they chose to never talk to me again. They chose to cut me out of their lives as much as you did. I have very little sympathy for them, given when you disowned me I was homeless. I couch surfed throughout that summer. I really needed their help, since you refused to help me. Had it not been for some amazing friends letting me stay with them, and helping me get back on my feet, I would have ended up on the streets, like so many homeless LGBT+ kids. They chose to do that to me, just as you did. So no, I won't cry any tears for them choosing to throw me away too.

You mentioned that I had a step brother, whom I was never able to meet. You seemed to think you could replace me with him. I feel so bad for him, that you would put that burden on him. And then before I even knew I had a step-brother, he took his own life. I wonder every day if it was because he was LGBT+ and the abuse he suffered killed him. I wonder all the time if you abused him like you abused me. I wonder, what if he had been able to talk to me, get support from me, if he'd still be here. It hurts to know he died by suicide, because I wonder if it was for the same reason I almost died. I will always wonder...

You wrote this letter hoping to hurt me I think. You succeeded. You hurt me again. I had managed to live my life, find a family for myself. A family that actually loves me for me. Whom I can share all the joys and sorrows of life with. Whom got to see the joy I experienced when I finally got to be myself. When I didn't have to hide anymore. Who got to see me graduate college, who got to see me go to medical school, who saw me graduate and flourish. With three wonderful children that I helped to raise, and 6 others that are like nieces and nephews to me. But out of the blue, you wrote to me, to try to hurt me again. For what? Because I wanted to help other LGBT+ kids who went through what I went through? How petty is that? And yet despite everything I had accomplished, everyone I loved currently. You still managed to find me and hurt me again.

The day I got that message from you, was the day I was finally able to make a choice about our relationship. I'd never been able to before. It was the day blocked you from contacting me on FB ever again. Please don't try to contact me again. You made your choice, and it is apparent to me that you will never acknowledge what you did to me. How much you hurt me. How 27 years later I'm still in therapy over what you did to me. I've long since lost hope that you'll ever tell me you love ME and that you're sorry.

Sincerely, your daughter, always,

Karren

[heathfall]

HalfClan, Moons 7-12

Interesting things happening this moon(s)!

Moon 7: Frogpaw is now Frogears in honor of their spirit. They're still strange, but thanks to Nectarfoot, she's now also smart!

Speaking of Nectarfoot, she retires alongside Frogears' warriorhood. Being able to see Frogears through to warriorhood has done her good, and now she's calmed down and ready to settle down for her retirement.

(We'll see Frogears shortly. Don't worry.)

Also, Cricketstar catches yellowcough and loses a life. The dialogue said "several" lives but she was only down to eight, so.

Moon 8: Not much happens. Roachheart continues to be a bit of a prickly guy, complaining about people behind their back. Nectarfoot seems to be settling well into the elder's den, bickering with Alderfur.

Patrol time! We sent out Frogears, Marigoldfrost, Roachheart, and Cricketstar. They found a mysterious rabbit, shaking and moving rather un-rabbit like. After careful consideration, they hunted it and ate it as normal. Things seemed to be okay, but the thought lingers in all of their minds.

Moon 9: Cricketstar encouraged a fight between Clanmates, causing Frogears to gain a scar, and Alderfur was maimed by Cricketstar for questioning her leadership.

(Our brave new warrior, and literal old lady. I can't tell where Alderfur's scar is, but it's there. I guess the struggle of trying to keep a new Clan together is getting to Cricketstar?)

Her text says she's feeling sore. I bet she is, considering she's beating up her Clan.

Moon 10: Cricketstar's reign of terror continues. She injures Marigoldfrost (the other new warrior) and then retires Roachheart, who on the bright side is now wearing a very pretty lavender flower, given to him by Frogears.

Mousedapple tries, unsuccessfully, to convince Frogears to run away from the Clan together. He's the deputy, by the way.

(Marigoldfrost)

Cricketstar catches yellowcough again, and this time loses three more lives (down to five). I wonder if StarClan is trying to get rid of her? She keeps feeling a sense of dread.

(Roachheart is now living a great life in the elder's den. We now have three elders and five warriors, counting the deputy).

Patrol time! Brackentail takes Jasperstream, Turtlerun, and Mousedapple out on an herb collecting mission. They have a great time talking to a StarClan cat who comes down to join them.

Moon 11: Roachheart goes for a wander and is returned to the Clan.

Frogears and Cricketstar cross paths again. Frogears lies to Cricketstar, and finds the way Cricketstar acts increasingly uncomfortable. Meanwhile, Marigoldfrost imagines what having kits with Frogears would look like! How nice.

Moon 12: Not much happens this moon either. Jasperstream, Mousedapple, Frogears, and Marigoldfrost all go on a patrol, and hear an odd rustling from the border. Thankfully, it happens to be a mouse, and Frogears returns to camp with a big mouse hanging from her jaws.

Scene (Moon 10):

"What is the meaning of this treachery?" Frogears heard a yowl from the clearing. They crept out silently, spotting Marigoldfrost bristling at Cricketstar.

"I said, I will not lead a patrol into QuietClan territory," Marigoldfrost said, quietly. "They're far bigger than us. Things have been peaceful so far, but they won't stay that way if we try and invade our neighbors."

"I am your leader," Cricketstar said in a dangerous voice. She was far too thin for how early into leaf-bare it was, the yellowcough she had caught still ravaging her body. "You listen to me."

"I will not do it," Marigoldfrost replied. "Mousedapple will-"

"Mousedapple is not the leader. You will do wise to remember that, and remember your place."

"I will not." Cricketstar leapt at Marigoldfrost, screaming. Frogears could only watch as her leader bowled over her friend, flattening her against the cold ground. Despite her illness, she was strong, and had several years more practice than Marigoldfrost did. Marigoldfrost tried to shove her leader off, but to no avail.

"Cricketstar!" a voice that sounded like that of a lion roared. In a flash, a grey cat came sprinting into the clearing, breaking the two apart. Brackentail. "What in StarClan's name are you doing?"

"Punishing a traitor," snarled Cricketstar.

"Giving everyone yellowcough, more like. Go back to your den. You'll be a far kinder leader when you're well rested." Marigoldfrost still laid on the ground, and Frogears feared for a moment Cricketstar had killed her. At a nudge from Brackentail, though, she uneasily stood, blood dripping from her face.

"I'm sorry, dear," Brackentail said. "I'll get you cleaned up in just a moment." Brackentail left for her den. Frogears found that she could move at last, and crept over to Marigoldfrost. Her wounds looked deep, but Frogears had confidence in Brackentail.

"Why did she do that, Frogears?" Marigoldfrost asked softly, fear sparking in the eye that wasn't swelling closed. "Did I deserve that?"

"No. No," Frogears said. "No more than I did, or Alderfur did. There's something wrong with Cricketstar, Jasperstream is sure of it. If only Mousedapple could-"

"Mousedapple can't do anything," said Marigoldfrost bitterly, hunching back over. "I heard him talking about running away with you. What good is a deputy that runs away when things get hard?"

"I-" said Frogears. "I don't know." She shuffled closer to Marigoldfrost. "But I won't go with him. I'll stay here with you, no matter how hard it gets."

[shawnjacksonsbs]

Swifty? Or Swiftie?

Or

WWTSD? Hmm . . . 2-24-24

"Just because you understand the path you're on doesn't mean you won't feel the pain of it." - Patricia J. Hutchings

Since the entry I posted last week . . .

I saw the Bob Marley movie, One Love.

I felt the pain of my friends losing one of theirs, literally after he fell off.

Had an old friend find his way back to a good fellowship group (fingers crossed).

Had the transmission go bad in my work truck, while simultaneously having the means, and love to get it repaired.

Another member of my grandparents' generation passed. That number is super limited, and dwindling.

I watched Miss Americana, which made me like her even more. She's climbing the ranks of people I aspire to be like, love, respect, and why. (And she might be a superhero soon too, I mean, c'mon, could the universe be anymore obvious?).

I knew I was about love and peace, even gratitude, but am I Swiftie?

I mean, so far . . .it looks good.

~ full stop

Catching back up. I wrote that above the other day.

As an added bonus, I have granddaughters who adore her- Taylor Swift, I mean.

Her and her music, and who she is as a person, she obviously doesn't need my approval, but she has it.

Haters always gonna hate, but she is playing, and winning, I might add, and the only thing I'm seeing that we don't see eye to eye on is probably her religious affiliation.

But so, guess what she's in good company there, because she has that in common with a lot of my other inspirations(?), aspirations(?).

Calling them heroes seems mockingly pushing it, but maybe role models. Then again what's a hero to you? A champion? Maybe.

Looks like my grands have once again shown how truly smart they are, and if they continue to follow her, and people like her, and her ideals, I believe it'll take them far.

I'm even a fan of a few of her songs, and her ability to pull them into existence.

~another stop

Look, I have struggle in my life still, just like most everyone else, but. . .

But, I'm still at peace, even grateful for most of the struggle.

And my deathbed regrets list stays small.

Wishing a similar perspective for everyone else, is still the life I'm striving for.

Life is wonderful, and life is short, and a lot of people will never understand too many of its . . .relevancies(?). They wash over and dilute what they think they need for them to get through.

It's the hardest pill to swallow.

The young though, they are our hope.

And, and I love that she finally came around to using her platform to encourage others to see life, similarly.

A little outta left field with this entry?

Maybe?

Idk.

Idc.

Just keep sharing your love and your laughter with the world around you, and I'll do the same.

And remember that being kind is one of the greatest things you can ever be.

The combination of my granddaughters liking her,, and them Chiefs (lol), and if I'm being honest (the haters hating), all made me a fan of Taylor Swift.

Swiftie? Well, only time will tell.

I did read a short story about her during last week's Pawpaw’s Storytime, for those of you that follow. If you get a chance, go check it out. Lol

May be a special bonus tomorrow as well. 😉

Until next week;

"No matter what happens in life, be good to people. Being good to people is a wonderful legacy to leave behind." - Taylor Swift

[mutatedangels-a]

Shit, Peyt. Go to therapy.

The story must have sounded so weird coming out of her. At the store, she was happy-go-lucky with a tinge of sarcasm that her regulars had come to accept from her. And it was the same with the people in her life. Peyton's friends, no matter how close or how new they were, weren't strangers to the blunt way she talked about the fucked-up things that happened in her life. They knew that she wore a happy face no matter what kind of bullshit she was dealing with.

But she'd also heard once in a while that her trauma shouldn't be brushed under the rug.

And she knew that. She liked to think she was smart enough to be self-aware. And yet, there was still something holding her back from seeking help.

Perhaps it was because she was lucky to have all that she did. She didn't have to rely on the Tower name to keep the lights on at the store. Her apartment was in good shape. She had a car. What did she have to go to therapy about?

She was realizing more and more, as Corvus described this notion of gray—that it was an entirely unknown phenomena to her. If there were any good memories of her birthday party that year, she couldn't remember. The snot-filled cake sort of ruined it all.

The blonde listened to him, cracking a little smile whenever he called her gorgeous and intelligent. How did he know how to make her feel better, all the time?

"Gosh," she rolled her eyes at herself before gazing up at the sky. The clouds were overhauling the sun, turning everything all... gray. She glanced back at him. "So sorry that every time we hang out ends up being a Peyton Pity Party." But there was a genuine, warm look in her eyes as she studied Corvus.

They were unlikely friends. The kind of people who would maybe only cross paths in high school, where cliques were not only rampant but more obvious in such a microcosm. She took pride in being friends with people from all different worlds, though; she refused to limit herself to the circle her parents had curated for her.

That circle was only rich, one side of the spectrum. No gray to be found there. It was stark white.

Corvus, on the other hand, was vibrant color.

His idea amused her. She shook her head, laughing. "That sounds fun, but..." She winced. "I don't know. You said it yourself, it's about to rain. We should just head back inside." Back to her apartment to hang out some more.

Her eyes fixed on her hands; she messed with her prim, pale pink manicure. After a beat, she dared look at him again, biting back a smile. "Where do you think they sell ice cream cake?"

A rumble of thunder. // @octoberscrye

If he had the faintest idea of who she was, it wouldn't change his words. Corvus was not known for mincing words. There was nothing for him to gain from lying to her, or to sugarcoating his thoughts with her. There almost seemed to be a faint surprise in her eyes, but it was whisked away as quickly as an asthmatic gasp on a windy day.

He decided it wasn't his business to worry about it. Not making it his business was why he had survived this long. It was why he was going to continue surviving.

"Alright, alright," he shifted for a few moments, then made an aggravated noise. Corvus got up, his long legs raising him to his full height for a few moments before he grabbed the chair and turned it backwards, so the back of the seat faced Peyton. Then he sat down, facing her so his legs sprawled on either side and he hugged the back of the seat. He was never known for being able to sit properly.

"So your dad fucking sucks. And it was the worst timing on the face of the earth. But consider this..." He leaned his head so his chin rested on the back of the chair.

"When you think about that day, and you think about what happened before that, there's a fondness. The dark can't take away that light. Even the smallest light dwarfs the dark. It ruined everything after the cake, and I'm sure it caused a lot of bullshit in your childhood, but it didn't completely ruin that party."

He drew in a breath.

"Grey. Grey is happy memories of your birthday before the cake, and the trauma after. Grey is your mom remembering your birthday for the first time in six years, but she's using again. Grey is hanging out with a gorgeous, intelligent woman," he quirked a grin at her, green eyes shifting to look up at the sky, "But it's starting to look like rain."

He absently reached to brush his dark hair away from his face, the black giving way to a hint of purple in the sunlight, obvious remnants of an old hair color.

"You wanna know something I learned?" He grinned as he spoke, watching the hints of grey in the clouds in the sky.

"You can just go to a grocery store and buy a birthday cake. They'll even write shit on it, if you want. And..." He leaned in a little, a mischievous whisper.

"It doesn't even have to be your birthday."

Corvus winked.

"What do you say? Re-do on twelve year old Peyton? We can even do ice cream cake, if you're feeling fancy."

// @mutatedangels

[caroldantops]

"good afternoon, professor wheeler. sorry to both-"

the end of the sentence was caught on your throat, as it froze along with the rest of your body. you knew you should've knocked, but the rush to get to the office after being held up in that dreadful lecture made you forget about it.

at this point of the semester, getting time with prof. wheeler was like being part of the track team. every student was always hounding to ask her for advice, and you felt grateful to always have been able to answer your doubts before class. but now, with her assignment's deadline approaching, you had no choice but to fight your way through the zombie horde. so you decided to take a shortcut.

nancy, as she insisted you call her, had a clear soft spot for you. she (and her wife, prof. buckley) always greeted you when crossing paths in the busy hallways, your questions were answered without that stern tone she used with your classmates, and the grades on your tests and essays(and only yours, as you found out later) had a note of praise, like "well done!" or "you're getting better! :)". With that, you assumed it would be okay to take a minute of her lunchtime to ask for better sources to research. Everyone else could wrestle for her after lunch.

It did not surprise you to find her with professor buckley (robin, as she also insisted). And it shouldn't have surprised you to find them in the position they were in, but it still did. Robin was seated on the desk, her shirt open and her legs spread. In between them was Nancy, kissing her wife's neck as one of her hands was clearly about to remove her belt. It took them one second to notice you at the door.

"Oh, hi smart girl! How are you?" Robin asked, not even moving to fix her clothes. "You wanna talk to Nance?"

"Is it about your assignment, sweetie?" They both looked at you, expectantly. Nancy had stopped kissing Robin but kept caressing her tights.

"Y-yeah, but i can come back la-" you manage to stutter before Nancy interrupted you.

"And deal with that army of the dead? Don't be silly, i have time for you now. Just close the door and take a seat, okay?"

You do as she says, keeping your head low. When you dare to look up again, both women are still in the same position, with no sign of stopping their previous activity. Nancy looks at your blushing face, about to apologize, and reassures you warmly:

"It's okay, sweetie. Robin was supposed to lock the door, but I guess she was too distracted with my skirt to remember," she moves her stare to her wife "weren't you, daddy?"

"Yes, mommy." Robin admits, looking at both of you, before stopping her eyes at Nancy with anticipation. "I'm ready to take my punishment when we get home."

"We don't have to wait so long. That is, if our little pet doesn't mind watching it. Do you, sweetie?"

You feel your mouth freezing again, so you just nod. They both shake their heads at you.

"Use your words, smart girl."

"Y-yes please."

With that green light, they move from their position. Robin gets up and goes around the desk to bend over it, right in front of you. Nancy then finally removes her belt and lowers her pants and underwear, and you jaw drops seeing her ass so close to your face. Nancy looks at you again, amused.

"Do you have a ruler i can borrow, sweetie?" You hand it to her, after blindly scrambling through your backpack. Your eyes just can't move away from the view. They can barely blink, even when Nancy begins the spanking and the sound of every hit makes you jump in your seat.

"Our little pet is enjoying the show, Rob," Nancy laughs. "I think she wants to be spanked next."

"But she's such a good girl for both of us. What should we punish her for?"

"I mean, she did enter without knocking." Nancy pointed. "And you're not supposed to meet me at this hour, are you baby?"

Her words break your trance and you admit, blushing again. "No I'm not, professor."

"Such an eager little puppy," She shakes her head condescendingly "Take off your panties. As soon as I'm done with Robin, we're both gonna teach you a lesson."

-👻

[bugsy-maria]

Tenth Doctor x Daughter! Reader

Summary: the doctor leaves his daughter in 16th century England. In his eyes, he was doing it out of love but to her, he did it because he wanted to replace her. and one day they cross paths in a somewhat pleasant way.

I walked along the crowded streets of Madrid Spain. I had already been here 3 other times but I still liked it. I looked at all of the vendors along the busy marketplace downtown. I felt a weird feeling so I continued to wake wherever felt right in hopes of an adventure. my Dad and I always used to go on them till he dropped me off in 1537 England. he told me to go outside and look around but once I got out, he left.

still, nonetheless, I love going on adventures. I continue walking till I get into an alleyway behind a bakery. I see something blue at the end of the alleyway. I quickly walk to it, I knew what it was but I needed to be 1000% sure as right now I'm only 999.9% sure. my jaw dropped once I stood in front of it. I reach out my hand, I touch the wood, and hear the all too familiar hum of the tardis.

"Oh, I missed you too." I smiled at her. tears of joy pricked the corners of my eyes. I reach for the handle and push open the door. just to see a new layout. it seemed as though the theme was blue, with the console having a blue light in it. I run-up to the center excitingly, my hand grazes across the control which causes a moan of the beautiful machine to be released.

"How about an adventure huh?" I asked her. I ran around the controls hitting buttons and pulling things. the tardis starts to shake, but it's not the shaking that I remember, but instead, it's a violent shake that completely throws me to the ground. I quickly stand up and land her as fast as I could. i loud wheezing sound comes from her making me worried.

"What did you think you were" the man stopped talking once he saw me. and I instantly knew who he was.

"Dad?" I looked at him in shock.

"What did you say?" a blonde girl from behind him said.

"Oh," I said realizing that he only got rid of me so he could have other people document him.

"Oh? what do you mean- oh." he realized when I was thinking. he looked between blondie and I. "No! it's not that."

"It sure looks like it."

"Looks like what?"

"Well it's not that I promise." he completely ignored blondie.

"You made a lot of promises you couldn't keep."

"But he keeps a lot of them!"

"Look blondie, you don't know him like I do." I looked her in the eyes, "Why did you have to pick such a naive one?" I groaned at him.

"She followed me and stuck around!"

"You said I could stay!"

"Yes, but you did the following part first."

"So we agree you replaced me. well, that's great." I sarcastically spoke.

"Oh I know what you are." blondie said with an all-knowing tone that I just knew was wrong.

"Oh? and what is that?"

"Rose."

"No, let her talk. I want to hear her say the wrong thing." I smiled, a smart tone in my voice. she walked up in front of me, staring me in the eyes.

"You used to travel together, and then you," she poked my chest, "fell in love with him, and when he dropped you off at your one-room flat where you live alone you felt so sad and out of place. and know you find him again, but he has someone new. face it you weren't good enough." I kept my face serious which I found to be insanely hard as all I wanted to do was burst out laughing. "Now, am I wrong?"

"Yes." I burst out laughing, bending over to catch my breath. "Oh, you couldn't be more wrong! well, you could but it would be really hard to be. I'm his daughter, he left me in 16th century England for about 500 earth years. I am not jealous especially not of you, in fact, I'm mad at him because he replaced me with such a slag!" I shouted the last part.

"(Y/N)!"

"No! you don't get to tell me what to do anymore! You left me! you wanted nothing to do with me! you lost your privilege of being my father 9 generations ago." I turn back to the controls putting in the coordinates for the earth.

"Stop it. you're acting like a child." he shoved me behind his arm, pushing me back from the controls.

"A child? you left me and you expect me to be okay with what you did?"

"The Daleks wanted to kidnap you and turn you into one of them, they wanted to kill you." his hands clenched the rail that ran along with the control panel. "I had to leave you, I was putting you at too much of a risk."

"If you told me that I would have-"

"You would have said that it was all going to be okay and that there was no reason to worry. then you would have gone to the Daleks and make a deal that if they take you then they have to stay away from me."

"Yeah." I chuckle lightly.

"I could never replace you." I felt him hug me.

"Wouldn't be that hard, you already did it seems." my eyes grow teary from the hug.

"No one could ever make me love one as much as I do you."

"you're not leaving me now."

"Of course not. never again."

[takenyoomies]

Takeomi's "Day Off"

Title - Takeomi's "Day Off"

Rated - T

Summary - When Senju said it was his "day off", this was not what Akashi Takeomi had in mind.

Tags - Food, Movies, Wakasa Lock-picking, Swearing, Benkei Slander, Mildly OOC

Characters - Takeomi, Wakasa, Benkei, Senju, Draken(mentioned), Shinichiro(mentioned), Terano South(mentioned)

TWs - mentions of character death

Word Count - 2977

Read on AO3

The evening forecast calls for-

“Rain.”

Thunderstorms until the late evening, and it will then clear up around nine o’clock. Back to you for the local news to talk about how you can protect yourself from-

Click.

Takeomi sighed as he took another drag off of his cigarette, neatly ashing it in a black ceramic ashtray he’d found long ago in the belongings of none other than Shinichiro Sano. With his gaze affixed to the ever infinite tile ceiling, one thing crossed his mind. What was he going to do on his day away from the rest of the members of Brahman?

It wasn’t often that the scar-faced man had a rare “day off,” as Senju called them. He chuckled at the idea as he hadn’t been employed since he lost his ambitions, though all things considered, helping manage the gang members did feel like a full-time job. There was the somewhat apathetic Wakasa, who seemingly followed Senju to the ends of the earth. However, enjoyed the occasional prank. Benkei was pretty hot-headed in their quarrels. However, outside of them, he seemed to enjoy the more minor things...only to also become hot-headed about those too. Takeomi rubbed the bridge of his nose as he remembered the time they went fishing only for Benkei to pick a fight with his fishing pole for not catching him any fish. There also was Senju, his sister, who was calm for the most part until she wasn’t, and it became a game of World War between the five of them as they tried to figure out who stole the last manju from the plate in the middle of the table. And lastly, there was of course the new member of the gang, Draken, who hid mainly in the shadows and made a relatively decent hot curry.

The scar-faced man stood from the well-loved recliner, stretching his back as he made his way to the kitchen to grab a beer, “Wonder what they’re up to today…” He murmured as he opened the fridge, plucking a silver can from its place on the shelf. He turned his body to walk back towards the living room only to hear the doorbell ring. He froze in place, blinking. No one other than four people knew he lived here, and all four of those people knew it was his day off.

The bell rang again.

He pursed his lips, thinking that perhaps they would go away.

“He has to be home, and he never goes anywhere.” A deep voice stated, almost in annoyance.

“True...I don’t see the point in him going anywhere, to be honest, and it’s raining.” A tired voice replied, almost sounding bored with the situation.

Takeomi huffed, “Oh, so they think I’m a hermit?” He thought to himself, crossing his arms with a smirk.

“Well...we could always use...that.” The last voice said, the doorbell ringing one more time.

“Oh! I like that idea.” The deep voice spoke excitedly.

Takeomi blinked, wondering what that meant, only to hear the telltale sound of scratching at his door. He hurriedly rushed over, unlocking the door as he quickly realized what that was.

“How many times have I told you, if I’m not answering the door, don’t get Waka to pick the lock!” He yelled in exasperation as he whipped open the door. Benkei collapsed into the genkan while Senju and Wakasa remained kneeling outside, both looking up at the semi-tired-looking man holding a beer, a cigarette between his lips.

“Oh. Hi Takeomi.” Wakasa finally spoke with a wave, his bored face showing how unaffected he was by the man in front of him.

Benkei groaned as he rose from his position on the floor, “If you would’ve answered the door, maybe we wouldn’t have had to use Waka.” He rubbed his head, “And would it kill you to open the door slower?”

“You act as though I’m some item for you to use when you get locked out…” The two-toned-haired man retorted, standing from his crouched position, patting his pants as he put away the lock-picking kit back into his bag.

The buff man clicked his tongue, “As if that’s the biggest fucking issue here.”

Takeomi sighed, looking at the group in front of him, “What are you three even doing here?” He questioned, noticing the plastic bags, “It’s my day off.”

“Well…” Senju started, standing from her position on the ground as well, “We were going to meet up at the park, but it’s raining.”

“Yeah, I wonder who did that.” Benkei huffed sarcastically, crossing his arms.

“You can’t blame me for the rain every time.” Takeomi pointed out, taking a drag off of his cigarette.

“I can, and I fucking will.”

“Regardless of if Takeomi made it rain,” Senju cut in, looking over at the several plastic bags on the concrete behind them, “Your apartment was the closest.”

Takeomi exhaled, the smoke wrapping around him like the safety he needed in that moment as he paused to think. Yes, he could refuse them entry. Unfortunately, though, that would likely just cause them to force their way in like usual. He sighed in defeat, “Alright, get in.”

Senju smiled, “Yay!” The smallest cheered, rushing into the apartment past Takeomi and Benkei.

“Wait, shit, she’s gonna get the chair!” Bekei roared in sudden realization, attempting to blow past the other man as well, only to be stopped by an arm.

“Pick up the bags and then go fight over the chair. Don’t make Waka carry everything.” Takeomi warned, only to receive a glare in return.

“You do it if you’re so concerned.” He snapped, sliding under the arm that was blocking his path inside and rushing inside, “Hey Senju, you got it last time!”

Takeomi shook his head, “Never changes.” He looked over at the plastic bags that Wakasa was beginning to gather up, “It’s always us, huh?”

“Been that way since…” Wakasa trailed off before shrugging a bit, the lollipop in his mouth shifting, “Take these, and I’ll carry the rest.”

The older man knew what he meant by that sentence and was somewhat thankful he didn’t finish it. Sometimes he wondered if that ghost would ever stop haunting the three of them. He shook the thought as he grabbed onto the two plastic bags, peering into them and noticing the sheer amount of food.

“Just...how much did all of you buy?” He questioned, the cigarette on his lips nearly dropping in astonishment.

A hum of amusement came from Wakasa’s throat, “Senju kept putting things in the basket, and Benkei...Well, you know him.”

“And you?” Takeomi questioned, only to see the two-toned-haired man pull out a bag of lollipops. The scar-faced man's lips tilted into a smile, “How predictable.”

“Please,” Wakasa began as they walked inside, Takeomi could already hear the sounds of an argument, “My simple tastes are far superior to Benkei’s ridiculous tastes in cola-flavored garbage.”

Takeomi snorted, “I didn’t know you had a candy complex.”

Wakasa rolled his eyes, “Is that even real?”

“Beats me.” Takeomi chuckled as they made their way into the living room to see a smug-looking Senju placed in the comfortable recliner and an angry Benkei gesturing.

Benkei groaned, “Like I said, you got it last time so, get up!”

Senju smiled sweetly as she settled herself into the recliner, “No, I’m comfortable.”

You could see a vein pop on the buff man’s forehead, “Oh my god, you’re so!” He attempted to piece together before growling once more.

Senju snickered, “Use your words Benkei.”

“Senju, don’t be mean to the wildlife.” Wakasa sighed, placing the bags on the coffee table.

“I am not an animal!” Benkei yelled in offense.

“Hm. Debatable.” Wakasa shrugged as he sat down on one of the pillows.

Takeomi shook his head, placing the other plastic bags onto the table, opening his beer, taking a sip, and wrinkling his nose. Warm. However, this seemed to get the attention of Benkei.

“Hey, Takeomi, if you’re having a beer, share one with the rest of us.” The bearded man complained, strolling over to him.

“Bring your own.” He breathed, waving his spare hand at him, sitting down at the table beside Wakasa, “You just were at the store.”

“If I remember correctly, you said you were going to bum one off of Takeomi.” Wakasa’s bored voice cut in, exposing the other’s plans as he opened a bag of hard candy.

“I-I did not.” Benkei huffed, crossing his arms and looking to the side.

“I clearly recall you stating, Waka, I’m gonna get a beer from Takeomi, so I don’t have to buy a six-pack! I’m so smart, haha or something of that effect.” Wakasa mimicked the burly man set before himself, popping the lollipop out of his mouth and pointing at him with it.

Takeomi hummed, “Is that right?”

“No way, I would never say that!” Benkei denied, holding his hands up in refusal.

“Senju can confirm it, probably.” Wakasa sighed, popping the sweet back in his mouth.

“Ain’t no way she heard sh-”

“I was in the other aisle. Even I heard you say it, Benkei.” Senju confirmed.

“Okay, maybe I did say that,” Benkei muttered, looking to the side, “But come on, beer is expensive!”

“And bumming it off of me makes that okay?” Takeomi asked incredulously, shaking his head.

“Yes.” Benkei grinned, only to receive a look of disapproval from the man.

Takeomi sighed, “I’d say you’re unbelievable, though this is far too in character for you.”

Benkei snorted in amusement, “The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Eyebrow twitching, the scar-faced man sighed once more, "If you could stop swearing in front of my sister, that'd be wonderful."

Benkei huffed, "I don't think she minds it."

"Well I-"

Senju waved an arm, interrupting the conversation, “Hey, can you pass me the sour gummy worms?” She asked, as if to ignore the on-going conversation about herself.

Wakasa sighed and looked over to Takeomi, “You’re closer.”

Takeomi stared daggers at Benkei, who shrugged with a lopsided grin. He turned towards Wakasa, “Fine, fine.” Takeomi groaned, putting his cigarette out into the ashtray, “Which bag are they in?”

Wakasa shrugged, opening a can of juice, “Probably the one with the candy.”

Takeomi pulled one of the bags forward, fishing around for the bag of sour candy. “Is this the right bag?” He questioned as he fumbled through the several different types of snacks.

“Probably.” Wakasa’s bored eyes peering over at the man, “Actually, they might be in the other other candy bag.”

Takeomi stopped his search to look up at the two-toned-haired man, “You mean to tell me you have two entire bags of candy?”

The accused party sighed, “Listen, blame Senju for that one.”

“Nuh-uh Waka, you pitched in to at least half the damage!” The light-haired girl chimed in, crossing her arms with a knowing look.

Benkei snorted as he sat down at the table, “And by half, that’d be one bag each.”

“Thank you. I can do basic math,” Wakasa replied, rolling his eyes and pulling the other bag forward. His fingers instantly pulling out the bag of sour gummy worms, much to Takeomi’s surprise.

“How did you…” Takeomi started, only to have the bag of gummy worms flung into his chest, “...Nevermind.” He breathed, standing from his place at the table and walking over to the snowy-haired girl, “Here.”

Senju grinned, “Thanks.” She spoke happily as she grabbed the package of sweets out of his hands, biting open the top with her teeth.

Takeomi sighed attempting to grab the package back from her, “Hey, you’re gonna ruin your teeth like that.”

Wrinkling her nose, Senju looked up at Takeomi, “You’re not the boss of me.” She spoke sarcastically with a slight smile, shoving a gummy worm into her awaiting mouth.

The dark-haired man raised a brow, “...And I’m assuming you forgot that sour food is sour, again.”

Senju’s face had contorted, her nose wrinkling as her lips puckered, “Shut up…” She whimpered, shoving another gummy worm into her mouth.

"You're how old?" Takeomi questioned with an amused smile, as Senju pouted.

"Worst brother ever." She huffed.

Benkei tilted his head over only to burst into laughter, “Happens every time, man.”

“You do the same when you eat spicy food.” Wakasa mentioned as he took a sip from his drink, “Remember the time we ate Draken’s hot curry? You were crying like a baby.”

Takeomi snorted as he remembered the scene, Draken had said he would make them curry since they were eating out too much, and Benkei had been the most excited about it. But, of course, this only seemed to fire up the braid-haired man more when it came to making the curry, so when it came down to them eating, he had even given Benkei an extra serving.

“Do you remember when he took the first bite?” Takeomi pondered as he walked back over to the table, Benkei groaning and placing his head on the table in embarrassment.

“Man, quit it, do you have to?” Benkei pleaded, peeking an eye up towards the man.

“Do you mean the it burns part or take me to the hospital one?” Wakasa questioned with slight amusement.

The buff man grumbled, “I’m going home. This is bullshit.”

“So you can bark, but you can’t take a bite?” Takeomi teased, grabbing his beer and taking another swig, once again scrunching his nose, “This is disgusting.”

“Then why are you still drinking it…?” Wakasa sighed in exasperation.

“Because wasting beer is a cardinal sin.” Takeomi clarified.

Benkei sat up quickly, pointing at both Takeomi and Wakasa, “You know what else a cardinal sin is? Dunking on your homies.”

The two-toned-haired man blinked, before shaking his head and clasping his hands together, and looking directly into Benkei’s eyes, “So is having an IQ of below 70, but we’re still accepting of you, Benkei.” He spoke carefully before downing the rest of his drink, “Alright, are we watching a movie?”

Benkei sat at the table, mouth agape, unsure of what to say or do, all while Takeomi and Senju snickered uncontrollably in the background.

“Sure, we can do that.” Takeomi finally spoke through his laughs, lighting a cigarette, “Though we’re not watching Jurassic Park again and making Terano South references.”

“Aw, come on!” Senju pouted.

“We could always watch Pulp Fiction?” Wakasa offered with a half-hearted shrug.

Takeomi raised a knowing brow, “You just want to say the does he look like a bitch part again, Waka.”

He sighed, “Guilty.”

“What about-” Benkei began.

“No.” Takeomi interrupted.

The burly man huffed and crossed his arms, “But I didn’t even say shit!”

“We are not watching Austin Powers.” The man with the cigarette proclaimed, shaking his head.

“...Fine.”

“What about Goodfellas?” Senju pointed out, swinging her legs from the recliner, “That’s always a favorite.”

Benkei groaned, “We’ve watched that like 20 times, though.”

Takeomi hummed, “What’s 21, though…”

“Waka can probably quote all the lines in that one, too, then.” Benkei thought out loud.

“Did you hear him last time?” Senju asked while tilting her head to the side, “He even did the voices.”

“He wasn’t here last time we watched, remember?” Takeomi pointed out, taking a hit off of his cigarette and exhaling.

“Oh, right!” Senju realized.

“Wait, you mean to tell me I missed Waka doin’ Goodfellas impressions?!” Benkei asked, looking around at the group, “Why did no one tell me!”

“You miss a lot of things when you screw around doing other things.” Wakasa pointed out as he stood, “Goodfellas it is.” He walked over to the bookcase and grabbed a VHS case for the movie.

“The real question is...did we rewind it when we watched it last time,” Senju commented as Wakasa walked over to the television set and shoved it into the VHS player.

“I don’t see why we wouldn’t ha-” It was not rewound, “Goddamn it.” Takeomi huffed.

“Short intermission, I guess.” Wakasa breathed as he hit the rewind button, walking back to the table and plopping down.

The smoking man chuckled, “You know, I didn’t expect to spend my day off like this?”

“Oh?” Wakasa asked, raising a brow.

Benkei snorted, “What, did you expect to sleep all day and drink beer?”

Takeomi rolled his eyes, “No, though that sounds peaceful compared to the mess all of you seem to bring.” He huffed, inhaling the last of the cigarette and putting it out into the ashtray. The VCR clicked, signifying the tape was done rewinding. “I got it,” Takeomi stated as he stood from his seat at the table, walking towards the TV set.

“I guess it is your day off…” Senju hummed, her legs once again moving back and forth as she spoke, “But, we missed you.”

Benkei’s eye’s widened, “Shhh!! You weren’t supposed to tell him!” As he attempted to silence the small leader.

The scar-faced man’s hand stopped as it reached forward. He blinked. They missed him. He felt his heart swell in his chest as a smile spread its way onto his face.

“Hey, Takeomi...” Wakasa questioned boredly after a moment, “Tell me they didn’t take you out with just that?”

“I’m fine.” He responded, pressing play on the VCR and turning to walk towards the light switch. While the smile on his face had disappeared, the warm and fuzzy feelings had not as he switched off the lights. Making his way back to the table, he received an all-knowing look from Wakasa as he sat down.

As the previews for the movie were nearing their end, Takeomi leaned forwards towards Wakasa, attempting not to alert the other two members of the room.

“So, even you missed me?” He questioned quietly as the beginning scene started, the two-toned-haired man not entirely paying attention.

“Yeah, yeah…” the two-toned-haired man dismissed, the piece of candy in his mouth shifting against his teeth.

“Hm.” Takeomi hummed, leaning back on his elbows and looking up at the tiled ceiling once more. He could vaguely hear the storm outside over the sound of Wakasa quoting the movie, Benkei’s obnoxious wheezes of laughter, and Senju’s tiny kicks against his favorite recliner that he always gave up to one of them instead to sit on the floor himself. A gentle smile once again made its way back onto his face.

Maybe it should rain more often.

[abysscronica]

Hi hi~ hope you’re doing well!!

I just wanted to piggyback on the execution ask a little bit. If the marines successfully executed her, would Kid get revenge or just focus on becoming PK in your opinion? Assuming Killer wouldn’t reign him in.

Also, randomly thought of this just now, if she died during the fishman attack, how do you think this would affect Kid’s psyche? I know this is getting kinda deep into like analyzing his character, but I’d really love to hear more of your opinions and analysis of how Kid’s mind works. Either in your story or in canon. Or, how do you think Kid would move past Killer dying?

Anyways, thank you and have a great weekend~ ^ㅅ^

Hey, sorry it took so long to get to this ask! I'll divide it in parts because it's actually three different scenarios.

Marines executing birdie

If birdie were to be executed by the Marines, Kid would go absolutely feral. He will want revenge for sure, and Killer won't sway him from it, because he'll be secretly seething as well, even if he's much better at hiding it.

What Killer can do though is convincing Kid to be smart about it (after an initial homicidal sprint). Attacking the headquarters would just lead them to their death. Focusing on finding the ancient weapons instead? Becoming the new Emperor and absolutely annihilating any marine warship that crosses their path? Enforcing the efforts of pirates already destabilising the status quo (like Blackbeard)? That sounds much more efficient.

This way, focusing on becoming the PK indirectly serves the revenge as well.

One thing for sure, and the whole crew with him, would become much more brutal, bitter and violent in his path to greatness.

Birdie dying during the Fishmen attack

That would be also quite terrible for Kid's psiche. You know, when a person dies we often tend to remember them better than they ever were. Mostly the good things remains. We idealise them. As time passes by, this phenomenon can increase its grasp in our mind, even if we eventually learn how to deal with the pain or we find a place to put it.

Given the particular moment of the Fishmen attack, when Kid and birdie were at their best, I think this would happen to Kid. They had admitted their feelings to themselves and to each other, they weren't thinking about the future or their situation and just enjoying the moment together.

If the loss came at a time like this, Kid would basically think he lost the love of his life, even if it might be a subconscious feeling. Even after the initial devastating pain and rage, his heart would harden and he won't let anyone new close to him again. Any woman that came along would be compared to an idealised image of birdie and kept at distance or treated harshly as a tool.

He would still follow his dreams and continue his travels, he would still trust his crew with his life, but I don't think there would be any more romance for him. And, even after decades, when the pain doesn't mar him on a daily basis anymore, the dream of that little feisty woman he once "loved" would still visit him at night, from time to time.

Moving past Killer's death

This is very tricky. Kid and Killer grew up together, set sail together, fought together all along. I wonder if Kid even really knows himself without Killer at this point.

Unfortunately we didn't get their backstory (yet?), which would be great to answer this.

Did they make a deal with each other before starting their adventure? Like, if one of them dies, the other won't let that stop him?

I feel like they should at least have had a conversation at some point. Probably initiated by Killer. He's so ready to sacrifice himself for Kid that it would be weird if he didn't ask his captain to move on from his potential death. And if he did, I feel like Kid would do his best to honour that promise.

But he wouldn't be the same Kid. The loss of Killer would be much more devastating for him compared to birdie's, although he'd be more prepared for it.

It would take ages to find a new balance without his partner. I see two possible scenarios: either Kid acknowledges he needs to slow down and find a new way to live and be a pirate, or he throws himself blindly ahead regardless of the consequences.

And if he does manage to realize his dream and become the new PK, I can see him become the new Kaido: from this point on, it's either death or chaos.

[mrs-cavill-wife]

Forbidden Witch (1/?)

Pairing: Charles Brandon x Female Reader (Cassandra of Boudicca)

Warning: Fantasy. Language. Forbidden Love. Tell me if I miss something.

Author's Note: Here I go again writing inspired on a dream I had. I can say, besides "The Tudors", there's a little of "The Witcher" too because there's familiar monsters and characters. Most of the name of places on this fanfic is all my creation but some I searched on Google or asked help from my friends. Hope you guys enjoy it, reblog if you do and I'm all ears to feedback! My tag List this time is for my last followers, THANK YOU SO MUCH! Part 2 coming soon!!

Tag List: @lexyvaldez26 @thereisa8ella @natura1phenomenon @mrsavery @number1chonie @themanfromu @littlefreya @legendarywizarddetective @lovingbearherringhairdo @zealoushound @deangal-101 @everydaymultifandom @summersong69 @jgtfvhsg @tellingyouastory @sillyrabbit81 @nuggsmum @pussyverson @oh-for-fic-sake @foodieforthoughts @fanficlover91 @r-t-doll @its--fandom--darling @poledancingdinos @hlkwrites @rmtndew

Riding under the moonlight, this is definitely one of the things that brings me peace. I love to run aimlessly with my horse, Atlas.

Was having a little party in the village, my village, the place where I was born. Boudicca. In fact, I spent more time at Aretuza, a school for witches, sorceress. I was "discovered" when I was about eight years old. My parents were simple traders, workers, but the income was never enough for the three of us.

I remember the day when I was playing with the pigs, few of which had not yet been sold and that woman appeared. Skinny, with a beautiful gray dress, perfectly neat hair, looked like a queen at the time. Tissaia. I saw her watch me for a long moment, before the question that would change my life.

"How much do you want for the girl?"

Yes. She wanted to buy me. I was in shock for the moment. She and my parents argued for a long time and I just wondered what would a rich woman want with a muddy little girl? A new servant, perhaps? No, she must surely have millions.

Today I know, Tissaia is tricky, smart, knows the words to use. Like a snake observing the prey, taking notes of the moves, the weakness and the best moment to the first attack. She had been watching me and my family. I had called her attention when she was passing through Boudicca, she saw a lot of potential in me, despite my young age, I would be her apprentice.

And so it was done. She made a deal with my parents. She would pay them a kind of penance, a new house, enough to live in safe and happy, but they would have to forget me. I could hate them but I know they didn't have much of a choice. I knew that they loved me and did it to save me, they had in mind that I would have a good life and become something bigger than any opportunity I would have there.

And technically, that's what happened. Aretuza was difficult, the other students were much older than me, more sure of themselves, some came from noble families. I was scared but over time I became determined. I became one of the best and youngest witches in Aretuza, Tissaia said that my power was pure chaos and more. I could destroy an entire kingdom if I wanted to. So good, Tissaia said that I could become a dean just like her, or maybe something like an assistant, she would love to have me by her side but it was never my will and unfortunately for her, I went down my own path when she had nothing more to teach me anymore. It was the first time that I saw a small hint of sadness in her strong image on the day I left.

She is the one who gave me the Atlas. She said it was an albino horse, rare, just like me. I hugged her. Tissaia of Vries is a tough woman, obviously she didn't return my action, but she watched me as I rode away. Until my image disappears from her field of vision.

It was a long journey but I returned to Boudicca. A few years had passed and unfortunately, when I arrived, the city lived in poverty and my parents.. had died of an illness. I blamed myself for a few days. I could have helped them but I couldn't have known they were succumbing.

I remember visiting our old house, or what was left of it. I felt something so strong inside me, I think it was the first time that I lost control, when I realized, my hands were red, bleeding from my nose and fire was mirrored. After that, with the help of the surrounding residents, I built a new home.

And since then, I decided to stay. I help people. With their illnesses, attacks by monsters, thieves, disappearances and every kind of problem you can imagine. I even once helped a poor gentleman who was "unable to fulfill his duty as a husband" with his young wife.

There is a bit of everything here and I venture to say, since I stayed things improved a lot, I was known, at least here. "The famous Cassandra of Boudicca, our savior".

My thoughts of my story went away, a noise in the water caught my attention. It was night, everything was dark, except for the moonlight. I left Atlas eating grass and went looking for the sound. I passed through a bush and saw. A little blonde boy. Swimming. All by himself. What a dumb idea.

I was determined to leave but something in the water caught my eye. A pair of eyes? Oh no. At least, six pair of eyes. Getting closer and closer to the little boy. FUCKING NEKKERS.

"BOY, GET OUT OF HERE"

My scream was enough to make the Boy look at me and stop. Of course, an opportunity for those monsters to attack, and so they did. FAT FUCKING SHIT.

I ran towards the boy, held out my hand and he grabbed it. I pulled him out of the lake and behind me, casting a spell towards the group of Nekkers. It was enough to push them away, but not enough to make them give up.

Now, I was the first option. They tried to attack me but they are nothing to me. I lures them out of the lake, with the boy behind me, and as soon as they are all on dry land, I cast a fire spell, turning them into a "beautiful" barbecue in a few seconds.

Seeing their dead bodies, I took a deep breath and looked at the boy, crossing my arms. He signed, it seemed like something part of his everyday because he knew what my first question would be and answered me.

"I know it is late and dangerous. I ran away. I was to swim a little and knew that my father would not let me. But don't worry, the royal guard must already be behind me, it's not the first time."

Dear lord, what's up with those kids those days?

"Do you know your way back home?"

He nodded and I huffed. I grabbed his hand walking on my way back to Atlas.

"Where are we going?"

I put him on my horse's back, climbing immediately afterwards and starting to ride.

"Back home, little troublemaker"

It wasn't a long journey, but that boy talked a lot. I learned that his name was Eric, son and heir to the kingdom of Aluma, his father was Alexander, and his mother, Queen Madeline. I also learned that he loves to escape. Poor parents.

[herstarburststories]

You Have A Home

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader

Summary: After a call from Y/N, Sam comes back town to help -- and brings Dean with him.

Requests: N°1 heyhey, could you do a Sam x reader where they went to college togehter and later meet again and they realise their feelings for eachother...xx + N°2: can you do a college sam headcanon with medicine student reader

A/N: This was fun! The monster here is mentioned in season 6, when the boys ask Bobby for advice on how to kill it. This is my first Samgirl long imagine, with Dean being the flirty he is. I wrote this almost one year ago, so it's more crude and I'm nervous to be posting it! And my piece for @cajunquandary 's 600 challenge, my prompt was monster of the week. Dividers by @talesmaniac89!

Dean's eyes remained on the road when the bitter statement left his body, tangled with a wry chuckle, “I can't believe you are still in touch with those people.”

“Those people?” Sam arched elbows, slightly skeptical by his brother's tone, “They were my friends, Dean.”

“Sammy, all our friends? Dead. They all die. Or worse.” He glanced at him for a moment, pursing his lips together. It might not be an easy assignment, but was part of the job. Sammy had tried to run away plenty times and always came back, when would he understand? “We don't get to have friends. You should've learned that.”

“They are not our friends, they are my friends. Also, they don't know about the hunting life, they aren't in harm.” Sammy hissed once the other locked his green eyes on the road again. Dean sighed, moving one hand away and up from the steering wheel in a rendition gesture.

“Whatever you say, man. I'm just warning you, this doesn't usually end up good for them.”

Sam scoffed, Dean could get on his nerves sometimes, “We saved many people that got to have a good life.”

“Yeah, but those people didn't know us before that. I told you when you left Stanford--”

“I didn't keep contact, okay!? I just... I just still have a phone that they have the number of. No social media, no calls on birthdays.” Nervously gesticulating, he added, “I know how to keep them safe, Dean.”

“So, old friend?” The eldest Winchester asked after the few minutes of silence that followed Sam's outburst, “Female old friend?”

“Yes. (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” Dean smirked, and Sam to rolled his eyes at his behavior, “Keep it in your pants.”

He'd let out a malicious laughter before turning on the radio, the first guitar sounds of AC/DC playing in the background.

“I think you'll be the one not keeping it, Sammy.”

“Hello?” The woman in nothing but a towel who had opened the door greeted them with a question, her brown eyes glaring at the two men with clear confusion.

Dean had no shame to check her out, innerly celebrating that she was still wet from her shower. Perhaps visiting Sam's friends wasn't that big mistake. “Hey, you.”

She grimaced at Dean for two seconds before turning her attention to Sam again, sudden recognition written on her face.

“Sam? Sam Winchester?” He nodded, smiling that light-hearted boyish grin at her. Not caring about her dressings, she just threw herself at Sammy, hugging him tightly. “I missed you!” She pulled away only to hit his shoulder. Her short stature didn't match Sam's, but he'd still make a grimace at her attempt of slap. “Why didn't you call? God, your hair grew a lot. Listen, I have some scissors.”

“Tried that, didn't work.” Dean interrupted their reencounter, trying to get in the conversation. An usual lopsided grin on his face, “Dean Winchester, Sam's brother.”

“Layla, Sam's friend.” She gave him a friendly smile in return, opening space for them to pass through the door before closing it, “Come in, I need to change in clothes.”

“I wouldn't even dream of that. Seriously.”

Layla would just wiggle one of her brows at Dean's comments, not impressed by it, “Ele é sempre assim? (Is he always like this?)”

Thankfully, Sam still remembered a bit of his friend's native language. He just chuckled, managing to apologize for Dean's typical Dean behavior, “Unfortunately. Sinto muito. (I'm sorry)”

“(Y/N) is in the kitchen. I'll be right back.” Her accent was thicking stronger duo the comfortability around Sam. Excusing herself, the caramel skinned girl leaded upstairs.

“What did she say?” Dean asked, side glancing at the path Layla had just gone on, not even sure of which language she'd just spoken, much less what was said. Sammy didn't bother replying, satisfied to grin at his obvxion brother. “Dude, come on!”

“Sam!” A well-known voice filled the room as the image of (Y/N) appeared in front of them, dressing your loyal cook's avental. You didn't think twice before jumping on Sam. “I missed you, giant!”

He, like always, caught you with a light-hearted laughter, “I missed you too, cupcake.” You two spent a few moments like this, enjoying each other's warm and long lost touch, until Dean cleared his throat. You finally went back to the ground, embarrassed by having a stranger to see that level of intimacy between you and Sam, “This is Dean, my--”

“Handsome brother. Hello, cupcake.” Dean was so going to tease Sam for the rest of his life for it.

“You really live up for Sam's description.” You giggled, heading towards the kitchen “Come in, I'm baking.”

“So, you and Layla still live together?”

“Most of the time, yes. You know how she is, comes and goes. Never wanted to stay in a place for too long and got a job that supported that.” The boys followed you, Dean examining the kitchen and trying to discover what you were cooking through the smell, while Sam couldn't take his eyes on you, “Apparently, just like you.”

Even though your back was facing them as you checked the food, the bite didn't pass unnoticed, “I had to leave, (Y/N)”

“I understand that, Sam. But you never called or texted. It was like I--” You quickly corrected yourself, “We never existed for you.”

“It's not like that.” Sam sighed, how could he justify? He knew you wouldn't buy a simple excuse. You were smart, and knew him too well to swallow a 'I went on a trip with my brother and just decided that college wasn't my deal' and leave it for that.

“I'm here!” Layla declared, arriving into the room with an excited smile, it was good to have the gang back together. Although, the tangible tension almost made her go back to the shower, “Am I interrupting something?”

“A sitcom DR.” Dean answered with sarcasm, spreading his figure on the chair when you turned around with an apple pie in your hands “What about we talk about the ca-- Is this pie?”

“We heard a scream followed by a loud roar and (Y/N) stayed near the camping part because there was still a signal and I went looking for who it was. When I got there, the thing ran away. Jorge's body... No human did that. His chest was cracked open irregularly, as if it was done by an animal and his heart looked weird. Like it was squeezed and drawn on up somehow?”

“We got a Samia.” Dean stated, relaxing on his spot. Some sault, rosemary and fire would do the job just fine, “Let me guess, it left a clawn near the body or inside it?”

Layla nodded, “Right in the chest or what lasted of it.”

“Are you okay? Finding the body in that state.” A comprehensive manner englobed Sam's question, whom noticed the normality with his friend described finding a shattered body.

“Just some guts.” She shrugged, a grimace was all the reaction they'd get. Crying wouldn't help, neither being terrorized as they expected her too. “I've seen Grey's Anatomy enough not to care about it.”

“Well, I'm literally a medicine student and I am still not okay with that. Especially after you made me go and check the body.” You argued, glaring at your best friend who'd only roll her eyes in response.

“I needed a professional to say if he was dead or not!”

“You need a therapist.”

Dean got up, looking straight at Layla. Time to play the hero in shining armor, “Don't worry with that, we will take care of it.”

Frowning, you were the one to respond, “Do you work for the police now or?”

“Are implying that we investigate it by ourselves?” Your best friend added.

Dean couldn't believe his brother. How the fuck did he let them get inside without saying they didn't know about the hunting business? It was a luck shot that they didn't think much when he said Samia.

“Nope. Not you two. We will do it.” The blonde one said, pointing at them with a smirk.

“I agree, we will do it.” Layla replied, matching his taunt smile.

“Sam, I'm not letting you and your brother do it by yourself. Jorge was my professor, I knew him. Besides, we found the body.” You got on your feet and crossed your arms, waiting for a response. Sam always had a sort of hero complex, ready to help no matter what, but there was no way you'd be letting him go into danger with his brother. Getting in your dormitory to kill a cockroach back then or facing an idiot during a bar fight to protect one of your friends was something, but this? They were talking about looking for an assassin. What if something happened to him? You were the one who called. All on you. The thought of Sam getting hurt for any reason was unbearable, but because of you? You weren't willing to do that.

“You would be in danger, (Y/N). You both.” He tried to explain, internally hoping you'd accept his reasoning and let it go. Sam didn't want you to become one of the friends who knew about this life, you deserve more. He already lost one woman he loved in this city, he couldn't lose another.

You huffed in frustration, “Just like you will!” 

“It's different.” As he was terrified of, you insisted. Arms crossed still and eyes locked with his, determined to get something from him. Sam was smart enough to know that you would keep it going. Perhaps he could give you a short explanation, “Me and my brother, we are used to this. We hunt things like that.”

Layla tilted her head to the side. The way Sam talked remembered her of animal hunting, although she highly doubted that was the case, “Little more explanation?'”

“Monsters are real. Vampires, werewolves, spirits. The list goes on. Call us crazy. Roll the credits.” Sarcasm saltered every word of Dean's as he gestured up and down with a cocky smile. Everyone glared at him, a special furious look from his brother, “What? I thought they knew what we did and that's why she called.”

“Sam?” Your voice was fragile when you said his name, a demonstration that you would believe him through the fear of the truth, but that he had to say it.

Sam laid his hazel eyes on you. God, how he wished he didn't have to confirm anything, to break your vision of world so abruptly, “Dean is right. Supernatural things are real. I know it sounds--”

“Unbelievable? Problematic? Scary?”

“Yeah, all of them.” Sam offered you a humorless smile, then holding your hand the way he used to when you were nervous about an exam, “But I wouldn't lie to you, cupcake.”

The silence was broken by Layla opening a bottle of Whiskey, pouring them for the three people in the room besides herself. You rolled your eyes at your best friend, while Sam wore a tiny smile and Dean was astonished.

Noticing the eyes glued, the latina just shrugged “What? If you are gonna tell me that Dracula is real and you are a sort of Buffy's apprentice, then we will need some alcohol.”

“Why did you call?” Sammy asked, his brows knotted together, mouth slight open as he waited for your response. “You didn't know what I did. And he wasn't my professor at Stanford. Then why did you call, (Y/N)?”

You could make up a hundred excuses. Lie and say he was the one friend besides Layla that you had somehow a way to get to. Appeal to the excuse of 'I felt something weird about the death and you said I should call if I ever had a problem of any kind'. But for as much as you felt horrible for using a death as a pretext for calling him, that was partially the truth. You already had put yourself into a mess of monsters and a drained heart, it couldn't be scarier than being honest to Sam and to yourself.

At least, you hoped so. But your heart was rushing like when you saw Jorge's body. Jesus, when did love become so morbid?

You took a deep breath, oxygen barely achieving your lungs, and then started to talk.

“I wanted to call you the minute that you left, Sam. I almost did a million times.” You answered, looking down at the bottle of a sort of plant that he was putting in a dark green bag. “I thought about what you could be doing, what was so important that you couldn't send me a message. But you just didn't want to call, I guess.”

“I wanted to call, of course I did.” You scoffed at his statement, looking up to match his eyes, “(Y/N), I'm serious.���

“You didn't even come to Jess' funeral, Sam. Layla said that maybe you needed to leave to clear your mind, that was too much to deal with. But I was so worried, and sad and confused and I wanted to talk to you because you would understand, you always did. About anything. And I wanted to give you some sort of comfort, but--” You lifted your hands and shrugged your shoulder, a broken chuckle leaving your body. “But you weren't here.”

“You stopped leaving messages after two weeks. Calling was gone when it made a moth.” You sniffed. Sam's lips curved into a pure, cautelous grin. God, he was always so sweet. “The emails took two months.”

“You were never good with dates. I gave you a calendar in your freshman week.” Your teeth met your lower lip. He didn't answer, only nodding at your affirmation, omitting the fact that he still had the calendar between latin books and pieces of newspapers, “Yet, you remember all of it.”

Sam leaned forward, holding your hand with all the delicacy you would expect from a sculptor. It had been too long since he hugged you, and his touch made all your skin tickle with warmth. “I missed you too, (Y/N). I thought about you all those years.”

“So, Cupcake?”

"Let's focus on the case, Dean."

“Then you can go back and eat your cupcake?” He remarked with a grin. His brother just huffed, pointing the flashlight through the trees, “So, Layla…”

Sam rolled his eyes, like he usually did when Dean started being too Dean for his liking, “Dean. The case.”

Before he could make another teaseful comment, a roar invaded their audition. The hunters gave each other a quick glance before heading towards the direction of the noise.

Shaking the salt and rosemary mixture in his hands, Dean smirked, “That's it. Time to shine, cupcake.”

“I have to admit. Being patched up by a doctor is better than by Dean.”

A surprised, half relieved laughter came out your body as you finished another stitch on Sam's arm. That boy was unbelievable; openly talking and making jokes about his brother, who was also being patched up by your best friend in company of a bottle of whiskey, while he spoke about Layla's name being a rock song. You were working on a large wound on his shoulder-- which you were sure that was full of dirt from the forest.

Medicine student, but I'll take that complement.” You winked at him, gaining a soft grin from Sammy, “I was expecting more blo-- Why are you smiling? I'm touching a recent wound. It doesn't look dangerous, but I'm sure it is supposed to hurt. A lot.”

Sam's answer came out easily, the bare, vulnerable truth: “I'm happy you are here.”

You looked at him, his hair longer than before, but the soft simper remained on his face. You bit your lip to hold a giggle; her heart dared to hope. What he expected when he said things like this? A quiet contentment spread through his expression while he watched your reaction.

“You should have come home sooner.” 

His mouth formed a line, “I don't have a home, (Y/N). It's just Dean, me and the road now.”

“No, Sam.” Shaking your head lightly, you intertwined your fingers with his. His life was dangerous, you couldn't afford the luxury of waiting even more to share what you had finally admitted to yourself in the moment he walked through the door. It didn't seem like the easiest, simpler situation. But the only hard thing you couldn’t go through was to be away from Sam Winchester. He lingered on you for years, you were done letting him run away. It was time to hold his hand and walk together. “You should've come home sooner. To me.”

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[kylosgenesis]

Teardrops on Fire

Synopsis:

Steve Rogers is the last Alpha of the an almost extinct Lycan pack. With only less than 100 members left. Steve must produce an heir to ensure the species survival and reduce the chance of attacks from others. Omegas are rare, and betas have a hard time producing children. Steves reality is finally setting in as his obligation of producing an heir faces a major set back.

Reader is the last suitable omega to mate with Steve, due to the fear of her daughters fate in the pack, her mother kept her hidden from the pack after her own exile. Only her mother, and Bucky's family know of her existence. Bucky is Steve's right hand man, and the packs best warrior! He and the reader developed a friendship and bond over the years, but age forced them to become distant.

What happens when she presents and her first heat cycle comes? Her body is in excruciating pain and a strong fever quickly overcomes her body. Facing the fear of her daughters possible death, her mom calls on the only person who can save her at this point, Alpha Steve! Bucky and the alphas friendship will be tested. The reader will be faced with her love for Bucky or her duty to the pack.

Chapter warnings : descriptions of death, abuse, blood, and mentions of miscarriage.

Chapter 2: Honey I tried

“When did it start?” Bucky was holding on to the edge of his kitchen table.He felt nauseated with the thought of her, sick and yearning, He couldn't even picture what she had grown up to look like, A part of him was scared of his own emotions.

“It hasn’t yet!”

“ At least not as of this morning.” her mother was breaking apart! Bucky could tell she was very scared and exhausted! He knew that her daughter's well being must've weighed heavily on her, he could see the physical manifestation of her pain. In just a few hours her nails had been bit to the core, and her tears streaks had left vivid and raw tracks around her cheeks.

“Buck! I know this is a lot to ask, but you have to tell Steve! Were worried she wouldn't make it otherwise. This will be her first heat”

He’d almost forgotten his mothers presence in the room, cause he turned around and met her eyes, tears streaming down her face. She'd grown fond of her friend's daughter over the years. After her own kids had left to form their own lives, she could still go to her and relive some memories of her little ones' younger days.

“I know! I'm still wrapping my head around it, but I know what I have to do” agitation surrounded his voice. He didn't know when his heart started to feel like it wanted to jump out of his chest or when he gripped the glass of water that was left on the table so hard it shattered, but it was evident that he wasn't going to be getting any rest that day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bucky parked his pickup in front of Steve's house. It was the largest house in the village, it wasn't Steve's choice, but he'd inherited it from his father, and his father had inherited it from his father before him. Being the house farthest away from the city limits, but right in the middle of the village meant Steve was protected, but could also be easily accessed.

Looking back at his passenger seat he saw Winnifred with her mom cradled upon her shoulder, comforting her best friend through the probably the second hardest day of her life.

“You should stay here Ma, I'll go get Steve” I know he’ll be happy to see you, but I still don't know how he'll react to her'' He opened his tool box on the bed of his truck and pulled out a large fleece blanket. Neatly folded he handed it over to his mother.

“Just keep her company till I come back”

The lights in Steve's house were on, but Buck could hear the sound of wood being shopped and Steve's grunts coming from the back of the property. As he reached his best friend's view, he took a deep breath. It was all gonna be different now, for all of them.

Steve had a large pair of headphones in, and was clearly a few songs deep into his playlist because when Bucky came around the corner; Steve almost lost a hold of the axe he was holding! Lookin at Buck he lowered his bulky headphones and stabbed the axe to the soft moody ground next to the small uncut piece of wood he was about to turn into lumber.

Steve's hair was not as long as Bucky's, and he had taken a liking to a neatly kept beard.

He grew it out as a joke at first! Clint dared him to grow it for a month, and after a month he'd grown fond of the style.So for the past year now, Steve looked less like a young soldier, and more like those lumberjacks from the cheesy romance novel covers his sister Rebecca loved to read.

“Hey Buck, didn't expect you around so late” Steve combed his hair back with his fingers. A nervous habit Bucky had noticed since childhood, especially when he had a lot on his mind.

“Couldn't sleep?”

Bucky was concerned for his friend, momentarily forgetting the reason for his sudden visit.

“ Banner called! Wanda was there earlier today, she wasn't feeling well. Turns out she was pregnant, and didn't know it!

“Steves that's awesome, when is she due ? we need to celebra…” as he looked into his best friend's eyes he saw the pain behind his look.

“She was miscarrying at the same time she found out she was pregnant, Buck. That's the third pup we've lost this year.I don't know how we're gonna get through this, It's getting harder and harder to keep everyone safe, and pretend we're not gonna be extinct in 50 years”

“Steve…” Steve's gaze was filled with a mixture of tears and rage. He took everyone's pain personally. And hearing about Wanda had awoken an unease within his soul. He couldn't fight the problem! How could a man used to protecting and fighting, deal with a problem that didn't require a fight?

“There’s an omega! She presented this morning!

“Who is she?”

“Remember Katerina? She … uhh … after she was exiled from the pack, she had a daughter!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 20 years ago

“We can't just let him die! We have to take him outside the walls! Someone out there can help him”

Joseph was the second in command to Benjamin Rogers. Two of the strongest alphas the entire western district had ever known. Both feared together, but explosive apart.

Benjamin had fathered a son 7 years earlier, a frail boy. He was often sickly and his future wasn’t promised! He wasn't meant to live much longer, the boy had once again woken up sick. A high fever overcoming his small body.

Benjamin had changed after his wife's death, he blamed the boy for Sarah’s death. A man that was once kind, and dedicated to his family, now lived like a wandering dark shadow inflicting cruelty against anyone that disagreed and crossed his path. His pack was strong! But there was no harmony, only fear.

Sarah had been a beautiful alpha as well as Benjamin. She had a hard time carrying Steve to term, at 7 months she fell bedridden and two weeks later, she had a seizure that compromised her pregnancy. Benjamin himself had to cut the boy out of his dying wife. That choice, as his wife laid there lifeless , covered in blood, and cut open like an animal awoke a demon in Benjamin. He saw death in his son's eyes, that is why he could never love him. He could never care!

Katerina took care of his young baby like her own, she had struggled to have a baby of her own so when Joseph came home holding a still bloody wailing baby, she fell madly in love with the small bundle in his arms.

The boy was small, but smart! He picked up words as young as a few months, and as a toddler he was incredibly gifted. Steve excelled in art, and even knees bit of music. Katerina loved to sit down and play piano! A young Steve would lean into her side and follow suit to her fingers on the side of the pano with his small hands. Joseph and Katerina watched him grow up, and took care of him.

Steve got sick often, but nothing too serious!

One day as she prepared breakfast she had a feeling of dread on the pit of her stomach, she ran upstairs to check on Steve and found him comatose on the bed!she wailed as she held her adopted infant son to her chest. Joseph came running to her after hearing her screams. He picked up the boy from her hands and loaded him into the car, with Katerina at his side he headed to Benjamin's house.

That was the first time Benjamin had seen his son since his wife died, his son himself nearly dead!

"Please Ben! He needs help! There's another pack two hours away, they have a doctor that can help him. She can heal him for good, please open up the walls so we can go to her! They both pleaded with Ben for hours, but to no avail!

The man was already covered in anger and reeking of alcohol, “Don't you dare challenge your alpha Joe! If I find out you defied me and left this territory you will never be allowed back”

Katerina couldn't let her boy die! With that warning in heart, she and her husband plotted to get little Stevie outside the pack territory, and to that doctor.

Behind Ben’s back, and knowing the consequences in his heart Joe called the Alpha from the neighboring pack, the other alpha had the resources ready for them to arrive in the morning. His doctor, a witch, was ready to give little Steve the life he deserved.

In the early morning of the night they sped their way through the woods. Once they reached the border a car awaited Rina, a beta from the fury pack was ready to take them to their pack.

Ben had closed the pack off to treaties when his wife died, he believed the world was dangerous and the pack was better off without interruptions, he couldn't even save his wife! His pack did not deserve to be mercied, they didn't deserve to live if she couldn't. So Ben slowly watched his pack become secluded and lost.

In the morning Ben, even drunker than the night before, had shown up at Joe's doorstep demanding to see the boy. Fully convinced he'd be dead by now, when Joe failed to produce an explanation as to why his wife was gone and so was Steve.

Ben lost it!

He called a pack meeting on which he publicly executed Joe, whether it was a display of power or just pure psychopathic joy. Joe’s death left the town broken, when Katerina came back with a healed Steve, she found herself widowed and exiled.

As a last sick jab into Joe’s heart even after his death, Ben took Steve!

As the years went by Steve forgot his early years, he forgot Joe and Katerina!

Steve remembered stories of his betrayal, her exile! How their actions forever changed a pack. He grew up kind, giving, and strong! Even if Steve didn't experience or know much love from his father, he was full of it!

And thanks to that witch both Katerina’s little growing heartbeat and Steve were stronger than ever!

Tags:

@austynparksandpizza @exposition-belongs-somewhere

[tilltheendwilliwrite]

Star-Crossed: Bound by Blood

Chapter One

Master List

Pairing: Mando/Din Djarin x OFC Baast’Mal

Warnings: I'm making this up as a go, Canon divergent from the series during chapter 13, mild violence

A/N: I make this stuff up as I go along, if I screw something Star Wars-y up, apologies in advance, I didn't do it on purpose, but I'm new to this Fandom. I will be cross posting this story between AO3 and Tumblr except the smutty bits. Those chapters will only be available to registered users on AO3. (I'm trying something new for people who want to read here on Tumblr, but to also avoid the smut for minors controversy. We'll see how it goes.)

*I do not have a tag list* Please follow the story on AO3 if you want email updates, or follow @tilltheendwilliwrite-library where I post the new/latest chapters of all my stories.

***

In the sweltering heat of the jungle, Din Djarin crouched to better scan for tracks in the rotting foliage at the base of the tall trees. Pools of light made it difficult to adjust correctly for the shadowy depths; add in the thermal activity of the plants and animals in this stinking sewer of a planet, and he was having a hard time tracking his quarry. 

When he'd accepted the puck, he hadn't known what he was getting into as her chain code was surprisingly sparse. The only additional information he had was her name - Taa Marel - her last known location and face. 

And what a face. Even on a holo, she was stunning, not that the Mandalorian would let that sway him one way or the other. 

He'd tracked the stolen ship from Bogano, where she'd initially been hiding out to this skug hole of a world that was made to torment men in beskar, causing them to swelter in their helmet.

The kid, however, loved the place. 

Constantly cooing, riding in his pouch, he touched everything he could get his chubby green fingers on. Leaves, flowers, bugs; those, of course, went straight in his mouth. By this point, Mando accepted the womp rat could and would eat just about anything.

Upon arrival, they'd found the ship nose down, destroyed, and abandoned, but the crash landing had created just enough space for Mando to set the Razor Crest down. Then the hunt began.

After three hours of slogging through the heat, he was ready to kill her. After four, he decided death was too good for someone who made him sweat this hard. After five, he was determined to make her suffer. But they were closing in. He could feel it like an ache in his bones.

Tracks led forward, but something didn't sit right with that. They were too obvious. After hours of following such a well-covered trail, this was an insult to his skills. Footprints led straight down a game trail like a beacon meant to lure him astray.

It wasn't right, too easy by far, and the skin on his nape crawled.

He looked up, straight into the eyes of the woman he was hunting. Even through the distorted colour of heat vision, he could see they were a vibrant green.

He moved on instinct, whipcord shooting out, wrapping around her shoulders, and dragging her out of the tree.

She screamed the battle cry of a hunting cat, an inhuman sound before she twisted mid-air and landed lightly, crouched but on her feet. 

"Taa Marel, I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold," he warned her, hand hovering over his blaster.

"That is not my name. And I choose option three."

Her voice kicked him in the groin and made his dick twitch. Stunned, he could only watch as her hands came up and nails like talons shredded his whipcord. 

Someone had left a few things out of her chain code.

"Put the child down."

Mando blinked. "Why would I do that?" 

What did she want with his foundling? Had she heard about him? Would she attempt to take him? 

"I intend to kick your ass, Mandalorian, but I do not hurt children. Put him down."

Surprised, Mando reached for the strap across his chest instead of his blaster. "You're not going to run?"

She lifted a proud chin. "You will continue to hunt me. I would rather die than return to that hell hole, but I will not go easy. I will fight."

She was beginning to impress him with more than just her face. 

Din lifted the strap over his head, his eyes fixed on the target, studying her outside of the holo he'd memorized. 

She stood with her chin raised, body slightly turned in a stance that bespoke proper training. If one could call it that, her green tunic had no sleeves, crossed over her breasts, tied just beneath them, and ended a few inches thereafter, baring the wealth of sun-darkened skin over tightly packed muscles. Pants hugged slim hips, billowed at her thighs, and tied tight to her calves thanks to the soft, short boots that went to her knee. 

Sweat gave her a sheen that made her glow, her vibrant eyes shadowed behind thick, long lashes. Her face was a treasure trove of sculpted brows, sharp nose, and high cheekbones over lips that looked like ripe fruit, begging for teeth. 

A mass of hair, the colour of sand, fell in heavy waves to her hips. It began to darken toward the tips until it was as black as the deepest corner of space.

As he moved the kid, she untied a thin cord from her wrist and slowly began to bind her hair in a low tail.

He'd never met a woman like her, a bounty like her, ever. This one - fugitive or not - had honour in her.

The kid cooed and waved. Her lips twitched into a smile as she winked and waved back.

"Fear not, Mandalorian. Should I kill you today, I will raise your foundling as my own."

Din's blood ran cold. "You won't get the chance."

He hung the child's satchel on a low tree knot and drew the beskar spear from his back in the same motion. Though he'd won the spear from magistrate Morgan Elsbeth on Corvus and helped the Jedi Ahsoka Tano defeat her forces, the Jedi held no answers when it came to the kid. Though, Din wondered if that had more to do with him than the little green monster. She'd told him to seek another Jedi, someone with more training than she, but had given him no direction in which to search.

"He is rather cute," she smirked. "But his kind age so slowly. You will be long dead before he is grown."

Mando paused. "You know of his kind?"

She arched a brow. "You do not?"

He lowered the spear and held up his off-hand. "I am tasked with returning him to his people."

Her posture never changed, but her eyes filled with sorrow. "He has no more people. The last of his kind, or what was thought to be the last, died some years ago. Master Yoda was his name."

"I'm to help him find the Jedi," Mando murmured.

Her eyes lost their sadness. "I cannot help you."

"Will not."

"They are one and the same," she whispered. 

Lightning fast, she rushed him. Mando barely blocked the first swipe of her claws before the second clanged off his pauldron. He used the spear's shaft to knock her back, even as she kicked him in the ribs, bypassing the beskar.

"Do you know the life you condemn me to, Mandalorian, if you return me to that horrible place?" she asked, crouched once again, a few feet away.

"You're a bounty. I don't make deals," he stated, watching his quarry while keeping his body between her and the kid. His ribs smarted, but he'd had worse.

"No. You just work for the people who Purged your planet!" she spat, leaping and clawing. 

She was fast, damn fast. Barely able to keep up, it was all Mando could do not to lose ground until he saw an opening and swept the butt of the spear at her leg.

She jumped back, breath coming hard.

"I didn't ask who the bounty was for." Greef Karga offered him the chance for a big payday, and right now, they could use it.

"You work for the Empire," she sneered. "Returning me to torture and experimentation. Do you think I was always like this!?" She stood and held out her arms, flexing fingers tipped in dark claws. She bared her teeth, revealing wicked-looking canines, then lifted a portion of hair to reveal a sharply pointed ear.

Again he paused, a thing unheard of, to ask, "What are you?" Her chain code said human, but she was certainly not that.

Her proud chin lifted in defiance. "Do you know what a Zentari is, Mandalorian?"

Din inhaled sharply. "That's not possible. They were wiped out."

"All but one. I am Baast'mal, last of the Zentari. The Empire took me as a child and used my gift to ruin me. They bound my blood to the Corellian Sand Panther and Manka Cat. They have so thoroughly defiled my biorhythms that if the constellations were kind enough to cross my path with that of my mate, I do not know if I could bond with him." Pain flickered across her features. "I am sullied, broken. I am a monster," she whispered before shaking herself free of the melancholia and raising that proud chin once more. "So kill me if you can, Mandalorian, for I will not go willingly."

The beskar spear fell from his fingers as Din dropped to a knee and bowed his head. "I am a Child of the Watch. I must offer aid, Zentari. This is the Way."

"The Way?" She took a step back. "The Mandalorians no longer follow the Old Ways. They no longer conceal their face from all but their riduur and ad. The creed is long dead."

He shook his head. "My Tribe is one of zealots. We hold to the old ways of Mandalore. I only recently learned of this as I was raised with them in hiding. The Purge took much, but the ways of the Zentari are remembered in the covert."

She hesitated, eyes wary. "I have faced Mandalorians before. They knew not the Way."

Din stripped his gloves from his hands and held them out, palms up as if catching water. He raised them above his head and brought them down over his helmet, appearing to another as if he washed with air. "Zentari of the Bright Star, may the constellations bless this warrior with a treasure greater than beskar that they would be mine. Cyar'ika. Ka'rta. Riduur."

She inhaled sharply. He watched her fight tears, lip trembling before she closed the distance between them and knelt. She dipped her fingers into his cupped palms as if they held water, brought them to her brow and stroked them down over her eyes and out along her cheeks. 

Her hands shook as she lifted them toward his helmet and laid her palms lightly on the sides of the beskar. 

His hands gently grasped her wrists, her skin warm and soft beneath his fingers. She wouldn't remove it, that he was sure of, but it was an instinct he couldn't deny when someone touched his helmet.

Her voice was whisper soft when she spoke. "Mandalorian, Holder of the Creed, blessed of the constellations. May you raise warriors strong in the Way and find your riduur. Your cyar'ika. Your ka'rta." 

"This is the Way," he murmured, shaken by the encounter.

"This is the Way," she agreed as she drew him forward until his helmet lightly kissed her brow.

The shudder that raced through her raced through him with equal intensity. The Zentari race was a myth, a legend, a beautiful dream. They were so lost to time Din felt like his heart would burst with joy. 

"Have you ever removed your helmet, Mando?" she asked softly.

The shortened form of address made his heart skip. "Not before any living thing." The Droid on Nevarro didn't count, and no matter what Bo'Katan said, the creed was his way. He would never show his face to any besides his wife or children. 

Let Koska scoff as she liked at his traditions. She had not found a Zentari. She likely wouldn't know what to do with the Zentari if she did.

Din rocked back on his toes and pushed to his feet, surprised when she followed him with equal grace. "Zentari, we should return to my ship. The Alor will want to meet you. The covert will rejoice."

"Baast."

He froze as her hands landed lightly on his beskar covered chest. "What?"

"To you, I am Baast." She stared into his visor as if able to see his eyes. 

"Baast," he murmured, wishing he could speak her name without the modulator.

"Yes, Din Djarin," she smiled. 

He still held her wrists, and his hands became her shackles. "How do you know that name?" he demanded.

Long lashes swept her cheeks, a coy smile curling her lips. "Grogu told me."

His grip tightened more. "Who is Grogu?" 

She tilted her head to look past him at the kid cooing at them. "He is Grogu."

"You can understand him?" Din asked, his shock registering even through the modulator. 

"Not in words, but he speaks to those who can listen. Images. Impressions. The Force is strong in him," she smiled at Grogu. "He loves you."

"He's okay." Mando was grateful for the helmet that hid his foolish grin.

"You fool no one," Baast chuckled. She gently twisted her wrists, reminding him of her bondage. 

He let her go and stepped back to pick up the spear. 

"You are a man blessed of beskar," she murmured. "You must be a great hunter."

"Something like that," he murmured. It still shamed him how he'd acquired his armour, but if he hadn't turned in the kid - Grogu - he wouldn't have been as well-equipped to get him back and keep him safe as they ran from the Empire.

Baast headed for Grogu, her smile growing as she lifted down his carrier and situated the baby against her chest. Grogu giggled and babbled something Mando didn't understand.

"Oh, I see," Baast chuckled, casting a side-eye his direction.

"What?" Mando muttered.

"Clan of the Mudhorn. A clan of two." She flicked her claws over his sigil. "I wondered. Grogu explained."

Mando glared at the kid- Grogu. "Don't tell her all my secrets."

Grogu cooed. Baast cuddled him and smiled slyly. By that look, he was pretty sure it was too late for his secrets.

He turned to go, heading back the way he'd come. It would take hours to return to the Razor Crest, and it was already getting dark. 

***

They didn't make it back to the ship before nightfall, but he found a hollow tree in which to spend the dark hours. Creeper vines had choked the life out of the behemoth, leaving them in a cage of vines and dry, dead bark with a wealth of firewood to choose from. 

The fire burned brightly, drafting well, casting shadows across Baast's face and keeping the larger predators at bay. She slept curled around Grogu, lips gently parted. The air had finally cooled at sundown, but now he could see the shivers and goosebumps developing on her flesh. 

Slowly, he leaned forward to remove the cape from his back. Then, just as quietly, he rose, rounded the fire, and draped it over her and Grogu. She stirred but didn't wake, and Din returned to his watch on the far side of the fire.

A Zentari. He could scarce believe it.

She was a myth made flesh—a beautiful dream. Once, when Mandalore still followed the old ways, Zentarus was where many warriors sought their mates, their most cherished riduur. 

A Zentari was always fast and strong and incredibly rare. They grew quickly but aged slowly, their years stretching out into eternity, some said. Fine in face and form, when they met their match, they bonded, taking on traits of the other and giving a few as well. 

A Mandalorian could live a very long time with a Zentari mate. 

But most Mandalorians came home empty-handed as a bond with a Zentari could not be forced, but those who the stars smiled upon, those most blessed with a cherished mate, bonded in ways that grew legends. It was said their children were the most incredible of warriors.

Baast'mal was everything he imagined when told stories of Zentari as a child new to the Tribe. It didn't hurt that she was the most mesh'la female he'd ever seen. Fast. Strong. Deadly. He wondered at what the Empire had done to her, how they could force the blood bonds on Sand Panthers and Manka cats, and just what other mutations they'd caused.

He also wondered at her Force sensitivity. What she felt or even what she could do had not been discussed, but Mando knew there was more to her than he had yet discovered. 

But it was the ache in him, the growing need to once again touch her skin that concerned him. 

It was primal. Feral. It clawed at him. It had him itching to be closer - much closer - to her. He wanted to show her his face and hope she found him as pleasing as he did her. 

Din had nothing to go by in comparison. He'd seen his reflection before, of course, but he had no way of knowing if a woman would think him handsome. He'd had encounters before, ones in which everyone walked away satisfied, some paid for, others freely offered, but the helmet and the beskar never came off.

With her, he wanted to be bare, stripped off all trappings. Din wanted to feel his naked skin against hers. He wanted to taste it.

"You are a very loud thinker," she mumbled, bright eyes glowing softly beyond the fire. 

Mortification filled him. "I'm sorry, I-"

"I do not know your thoughts, Mando," she clarified, "just feel a gentle buzzing from the beskar. It restricts what I pick up from you."

Relief almost had him sagging. Baast closed her eyes, but he was loath to let the conversation end. 

"How old are you?" She looked young, maybe twenty-five.

Her brow twitched, amusement in her smile. "It is rude to ask."

"I wondered how long the Empire had you," he explained. 

Shadows darkened her eyes. "Forty years."

"But they've only been around for thirty," he frowned.

She gave a hollow laugh and sat up. "They have been around much, much longer. I remember the day they came for us. They slaughtered all who fought, men and women. Every child they could catch was rounded up and taken away." She looked away, down at dark claws. "I was the only Zentari to survive the experiments."

"I'm sorry." He was. "I know what it's like to lose everything."

She tilted her head. "You were a foundling."

It wasn't a question, and Din didn't answer her.

"They began experimenting with my blood almost immediately. I was ten when they bound traits of the Manka to me. I was fifteen when they brought in the Panther."

"How? Why?"

Her eyes burned into his. "Because they could." She flexed her fingers. "Because they are depraved. Because they are monsters, who turn others into abominations."

"You're not."

She looked at him in surprise.

Din shifted until he stood and made his way around to her side, where he offered his hand. Baast took it and joined him in the shadows as he led her a few steps away from Grogu. He stripped his gloves from his hands, the need to touch her no longer under his control.

Slowly, he reached up to caress her cheek. He pushed her hair back, revealing the pointed tip of her ear. Her eyes gleamed from behind heavy lids when he stroked his fingers down her tricep and finally cupped her elbow.

He closed his opposite hand around her nape; his thumb pressed to her spiking pulse. "You are no monster."

"My blood is sullied."

"Perhaps. But you remain unbroken," he murmured. "You lived. You escaped. Mesh'la, you are a beacon of shining hope to my Tribe. If there is one Zentari, perhaps there are others."

She closed her eyes. "There is not."

"How do you know?"

A tear trickled down her cheek. "I felt the last die three years ago. It was what gave me the strength to escape."

"Mishuk gotal'u meshuroke, pako kyore," he murmured, rubbing his thumb on her pulse.

"Pressure makes gems; ease makes decay?" A small smile twitched her lips. "Am I a gem, Mando?"

"No." 

She arched an amused brow.

"You are something more precious than any gem," he murmured.

Colour dusted her cheeks. "A Mandalorian who has a way with words? I truly have seen it all," she teased.

He sighed and made sure it echoed through the modulator. "Get some rest." He attempted to move away, but she grabbed him by the belt.

"Stay."

"Baast?"

"Stay." She took his hand, led him closer to Grogu, encouraged him to sit against a fallen chunk of tree, and then curled up beside him, tucking herself under his arm.

"The beskar is too hard," he worried.

"No harder than a prison cell, and you are much warmer. I have not known the comfort of another since I was seven," she admitted.

He sighed again but gave in, curling his arm around her.

"Thank you for your cape."

"Hm."

Her chuckle was more of a low purr. When it rippled through him, Din swore he felt something inside him purr back.

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