#kindred fic

[arctrooperechy]

KINDRED - A BAD BATCH STORY

Series Synopsis: The Bad Batch accepts an extraction mission to rescue a member of the Galactic Senate’s daughter.

Series Rating: Mature (though that will likely change as the story progresses)

Prologue

19 BBY - OPEN SPACE

It was so...quiet. Uncharacteristically quiet for a ship full of four men and one child. Everyone was keeping to their own tasks on the ship as Hunter stood in the cockpit behind Tech in his pilot's seat.

Usually, a quiet moment such as this would be one Hunter would have savored. His enhanced senses meant feeling everything a bit more than everyone else.

And that was putting it mildly.

The sergeant learned how to quiet his mind years ago; it had been critical for his sanity and well-being. So no, of course it wasn’t the Kaminoans who taught him. And it wasn’t a member of the cuy’val dar, either.

Hunter had gotten the idea from his squad’s only friend: a gentle clone named 99. Hunter had struggled, hiding in corners when no one was watching and banging his little hands against his temples begging for silence. He thought no one noticed; but 99 did, approaching him quietly.

When trying to explain the problem, all he’d been able to say was, “it’s too loud, it’s too loud.”

99 had consoled him, stating that when things were too loud for him—when there was simply too much noise to think—he should choose a single thing and focus on it.

One thing. Focusing every heightened sense and every bit of his attention on one thing and allowing the sensation to wash over him wholly until it didn’t feel like he was really focusing on anything at all.

It took time to master the skill, through patience and seemingly endless practice. Wrecker had called it “Hunter’s quiet time” once, when they were still small. Tech had rolled his eyes and started to give the definition of “meditation” and Wrecker had covered his eyes with a groan.

Crosshair, the stoic sniper that he was, had joined Hunter for the practice numerous times over the years. It seemed to Hunter that they sought silence for very different reasons. But the pursuit to find that silence was altruistic on both their parts.Tech and Wrecker tried but it was simply in their nature to…well, not be quiet.

But tonight’s quiet was a different story. In the few hours since the squad had left Crosshair alone on Kamino, Hunter's mind had been a prison of memories and guilt. What if the Empire never sends a scout team back to Kamino? What if Crosshair was never found? What if he…

The scenario had to be in the back of everyone else’s head as well. He knew that as the squad's sergeant, it was his duty to speak up and offer guidance, hope, for his teammates.

But he had nothing. He stood in silence, hoping for someone to speak up and distract him from the gnawing insecurity clouding everything.

He stood in silence wondering if they’d made the right choice.

Finally, Wrecker spoke up behind him, ever in keeping with his optimistic and empathetic nature. "'Mega, how about we play some sabaac when we get back to Cid's?"

Omega snapped out of her trance and grinned as she replied, "oh, you're soooo on. Loser buys the Mantell mix for our last mission!"

Wrecker chuckled as he whispered to the girl, "you know Hunter covers that anyway." Omega giggled jovially as she and Wrecker continued their banter. Up front, Echo and Tech began discussing necessary maintenance for the hyperdrive once they were on land again.

Thankful for the chatter, Hunter began selfishly longing for the moment they touched down on Ord Mantell. Maybe the squad would have a chance to relax (for once) and take their minds off of the last several rotations’ events.

As wrong as the notion felt, Hunter thought that perhaps the more distance the squad put between themselves and Crosshair...the better.

-

CARIDA

Merritt Belaena couldn’t wipe the frown off her face. She wouldn’t wipe the frown off her face. One act of defiance, one thing she could control, was this frown. She would wear it until the day she died. If only to prove a point.

The previous evening had been typical. A beautiful gala in a beautiful gown. A lot of conversation she couldn’t remember. A bit too much to drink. An unwelcome wave of emotions hitting her once she retired to her bedchambers. A fit of tossing and turning before sleep set her free.

This morning had been anything but typical.

She had been jolted awake by one of the handmaidens, imploring her to follow. After a moment of back and forth, Merritt relented and was led to the study.

Senator Belaena’s study, that is.

The Senator being her mother; the study being a room no one was typically permitted access while she worked.

The handmaiden ushered Merritt inside and was away with a final thud of the door closing. She looked around the room and saw no servants, no troopers, and no onlookers; only her parents gathered near a corner talking hushedly to each other.

“Mother? Father?”

The pair turned to face their daughter with wild looks in their eyes. Merritt felt her stomach lurch as she realized whatever this was, it was not a good thing.

“Darling,” her father began as he walked over towards her. “We have some news that might seem a bit strange.”

Her mother sighed and walked to meet Merritt before her father had even reached her.

“You must go.”

“Go?” She was dumbfounded.

“Yes. You must leave Carida,” her mother responded sharply. Merritt noted a hint of emotion in her mother’s voice, something she’d only heard a few times in her lifetime.

“I don’t…what?” A small wave of panic began creeping over her, but she pushed it away with every bit of force she could muster.

“You must leave. And it must be tonight.”

Merritt could not for any reason begin to grasp what was happening here. Of all the things she expected to happen…this was not one of them. “Do I have no say in this?”

“You do not,” her father replied. “This is urgent and non-negotiable.”

“We’ve arranged passage for you off-world. You’ll need to be ready in the next few hours. We don’t have much time.”

“Stop.” Merritt took a deep breath before continuing. It was always so nerve-racking to speak to her parents, but it seemed even more daunting now. “What is going on?”

“Something’s happened with the Galactic Se—“ her father began until he realized he was being met with a harsh glare from the Senator.

“It doesn’t matter what’s going on. All you need to know is you’re leaving and your father will pass instructions to you later in the day.”

“Mother, I’m sure I can handle—“

“You. Are. LEAVING. There will be no discussion. That is final.” Her mother’s face had turned wholly red, the veins showing in her forehead and neck.

Merritt had learned a long time ago not to argue with the Senator. The outburst seemed callous at first, but she soon realized that hidden within the vitriol in her mother’s words, there was fear.

That fear did not soften Merritt’s feelings towards her mother at all. It was so characteristic of her to make demands with no discussion. Once, after a particularly difficult situation arose involving the family’s reputation, Merritt asked if she could be of any help. Her mother had not replied; but she’d overheard her later ranting that Merritt was “not capable” of bearing such heavy burdens.

Perhaps she was right.

And yet, here Merritt stood with what felt like the heaviest burden of all—the unknown. Her only ally, it appeared, was the frown on her face. She was on her own, she and that frown, now just as she had always been.

-

ORD MANTELL

Before the Batch could even settle in at Cid's, the Trandoshan was beckoning for Hunter to join her in the back.

The dimly-lit room was anything but welcoming on a good day. But now, when Hunter was desperate for a moment of downtime? It was even worse.

"Heard you almost died," Cid said nonchalantly. Hunter wasn't sure she was feigning the lack of sympathy.

"Been through worse. Nice of you to worry, though," he responded curtly as she took her usual seat.

"Well, I'm not quite ready to lose part of my top source of revenue yet," she shrugged, sifting through the items on her desk. "Besides, I've got a job for you."

Hunter sighed loudly as he started, "I think the squad needs to lay low for a bit."

Cid continued as if she didn't hear him. "Carida, planet that's been getting quite a bit of Imperial attention lately.” She activated a diagram from her holopad at the desk, showing the planet’s location in the Inner Rim. “The planet’s the site of a clone training facility that's been converted into an Imperial officer and trooper academy."

Hunter nodded quietly; he was familiar with Carida and the soldiers they produced. Why it was relevant to him, he hadn’t the slightest idea.

"Someone needs to be transported off-world, ASAP. Willing to pay a fortune," she grinned.

"Cid...the team's been through a lot lately. I'm not sure we're ready to engage in conflict with the Empire again just yet."

"Bandana, this is a quick extraction, easy score for you boys," she scoffed. "Details are on here," she explained as she tossed him a holodisc.

"No," Hunter said as he tossed the disc back towards her desk. "Not happening."

Before Cid could respond, a tiny voice piped up from the office's entrance. "What's not happening?"

Omega stepped in and sat on the arm of Hunter's chair.

“Tiny! Finally, someone with some sense. Dark and broody here’s rejecting a simple rescue mission I had for you all,” Cid said with a devious smirk. Hunter glared at her, knowing she’d used the right words.

“Rescue mission? Someone’s in trouble?” Omega’s eyes lit up; she looked to Hunter excitedly.

Before he could say anything, Cid made matters even worse by adding it was someone on an Imperial-occupied planet.

“Hunter, we have to go!” Omega exclaimed, beginning to tug on his arm.

“Omega,” he started slowly, “I just don’t know that the squad is ready for another mission just yet. There’s been…a lot that’s happened these last few days,” he finished.

She looked at him with a fierceness in her eyes, and he knew that was it. The kid was very persuasive and usually right…usually. “Hunter, we help people. Isn’t that what we do?” she asked firmly.

After a long pause and without looking away from Omega, Hunter spoke to Cid. “Just an extraction? This person is going to be ready for us…in and out, without any intense maneuvering?”

“Yup. And then we both reap a ton of credits. What could go wrong?” Cid smiled back with greed in her eyes.

Hunter sighed with a look back at Omega. He resolved to himself that this would be their last mission for a while, no matter what Cid bribed, or Omega pleaded. It wasn’t just that they needed rest; he was concerned his squad had been making far too much noise lately and needed to lay low for a while.

Perhaps one simple low-risk mission to provide them enough credits to relax for a long while wasn’t such a terrible plan.

“Alright, kid. Go round up the boys. Let’s make this quick.”

-

A/N: thank you for reading! After months of reworking, I am finally ready to begin sharing this TBB story. This is my first fic, so any tips or comments would be so helpful ❣️ I don’t know how to do a tag-list but if that’s something you’re interested in, please let me know!

-CC

[aevallare]

auri and astarion as depicted in kindred and pour one out by abigeyedowl <3

[blazingstar29]

guys wolf and mav are so special yall gotta see this

[redelliavalentinos]

I toyed with upgrading him one more time, but I opted not to because it's too much. And I don't think it's necessary.

[possamble]

re: falin having a choice when it comes to having a longer lifespan

makes me think about her choice to save and even feed the dragons soul in the last chapter. i like to think that its this choice she makes that gives her draconic traits? like if she hadnt saved it then she comes back pretty much normal. falin seems to be proud of how different she looks now if how she dresses post-canon is anything to go by.

she also mentions that maybe its the dragon that wants her to travel to different places but i think shes always had the heart of an adventurer. when laios mentions being able to travel she was so so excited. and as a little kid she went out and discovered that dungeon all by herself.

like!! a lot of people write her being fiercely loyal and protective, as well as giving gifts (especially to marcille) as something the dragon makes her do. but from all the memories we see of her, shes always been like that (protecting her brother as kids, attacking the kelpie when laios rides it, saving her brother from getting beat up, giving marcille berries and nuts etc).

if it came down to having a longer lifespan, i dont think its out of the question if falin could just Decide for herself whether or not she wanted that. i think she’d have a good enough relationship with her inner dragon to do so, considering how much she acted like a dragon beforehand anyway

the. the fucking idea of her having had the option to completely stamp out the extra dragon soul inside herself by leaving it behind. and literally choosing not to. not even consciously but because she as a person reflexively wanted to take care of a little creature even knowing that it used to be a monster that hurt her and her loved ones. this time she gets to choose she gets to CHOOSE to live and how to live and it's always with kindness oh god oh fuck

[radioactivepeasant]

Snippets Thursday

The next part of the one where I made Damas catch a virus because inconveniencing serious characters is funny (found HERE)

This time I give Jak a hard time, dealing with cranky sick rulers 😆 Spargans speak Mando'a as a second language in this story Because I Said So, but there's translations lol

Jak was not having a good day. First that business with Kwan at the garages, then getting scolded like a kid by Damas (wasn't trying to cause trouble-!), and now Blackwater?!

Worse, it was very clearly his fault that the freaking king of Spargus was out for the count. No one still carried that disease except for himself, Daxter, Samos, and Keira. And only one of those four was both in Spargus and a channeler.

The joint pain, the eardrum pressure, the fluid in the lungs-! All of it was Jak's fault!

Suffice it to say that Jak was not his best self when he stormed back into the throne room to collect charred wood from the braziers. It wasn't quite the same kind of driftwood that Samos used to use for the remedy in Sandover, but it was close enough in chemical makeup -- he hoped. When the elevator gears began turning, Jak wanted to throw something. Now was not the time for people to come looking for work or for someone to settle disputes. Priorities, people!

A round man with three jagged scars across his forehead barged out of the elevator with a purposeful stride. When he saw Jak, he faltered, and stopped to look around, clearly expecting Damas to be somewhere in the room.

"You there," he barked, "boy! Where's the king?"

"Busy."

Jak shoved the coal into his belt pouch and wiped his hands on his shirt.

"Come back later."

The man didn't like that. He puffed out his chest and glowered at Jak’s back.

"This is important!"

"I'll take a message."

Jak rolled his eyes.

"Damas isn't taking appointments right now."

"I ought to box your ears, boy," the Wastelander snarled, "You think you speak for the king?"

Jak turned and faced him. He looked almost bored.

"I speak from experience, buddy. And you're welcome to try. But I can't promise you'll like what happens."

The man -- Ektor, Jak would later discover -- stormed up the walkway, clearly intending on some kind of confrontation.

"When you're done playing, go get the bloody king."

"I said he's busy!"

Jak planted his feet and met Ektor's glare, just daring him to push his luck when he had the high ground.

"What's important enough to go bother him, huh?"

Ektor did not have a particularly good impression of Jak. Kid just shows up out of nowhere, turns into a demon -- literally -- in the ring a couple times and suddenly thinks he can walk around the tower without a summons? Like he owns the place? This brat was just looking for trouble. And Ektor consoled himself with the knowledge that when the king caught him in the act, it wouldn't be pretty.

"How about Apex Metalheads moving in a bloody pack formation, just ten miles from the city! Is that "important enough" for you, "your highness"?"

Jak furrowed his brow.

"Again? Wouldn't Kleiver already have headed out to deal with that?"

The look Ektor gave him was almost pitying.

"This is why bloody children got no place in the ranks!" he groused. "No, Kleiver isn't "headed out". They're too close to the city, idiot! He's on the turrets!"

This was not what Jak needed right now. Growling, he turned on his heel and snatched up his talk-box.

"Dax, I need you to take the coal and get that medicine made. I gotta go deal with something."

"H'oh boy. How bad of a Something?"

"Average." Jak unhooked the leather pouch and dropped it on the throne in tense motions. "It'd be faster if you were on the guns, but somebody has to hold things down here. I've got the Beam Reflexor. See you in a couple hours."

"Roger roger, good buddy. I am very on-board with not going on whatever dangerous hunt this is."

"Yeah. You get the fun job."

"....suddenly not so on-board."

Jak stowed the radio, tightened his bracers, and turned back to Ektor with a sigh.

"Alright, show me where they are."

Ektor looked at him a little differently now.

"Kleiver wasn't kidding about you having some kind of death wish," he said, shaking his head with a low oath.

Ektor wasn't the only person Jak ran afoul of in the coming evening.

Damas did not want to stay in the apartment.

The temporary relief the first of the ten charcoal mixtures had provided gave him a false sense of strength, clearing away the pain and the respiratory difficulty. Damas thought he could just go back to work like nothing had happened!

Jak was bone-weary, fingers still numb from how many times he'd shot components off the backs of the Apex Metalheads. There'd be an absolute goldmine of salvage for the next round of scouts. All Jak wanted to do was sleep. But someone kept trying to jeopardize his recovery.

Jak braced himself against the door controls, blocking a man just as stubborn as he was. They glared at each other while Daxter ignored them both to grind up the next charcoal batch. Damas tried to reach around him, and Jak knocked his arm away just as quickly. His reaction time was slowed with exhaustion, and his reluctant patient took advantage of that.

Damas took hold of the iron ring over Jak's chest. He had enough strength back to lift Jak up to eye-level, leaving him on his tiptoes.

"I will not," he hissed, "be kept back like a witless noble when I have duties to attend to. Do not test me, boy."

Jak barely flinched.

"And then what? You collapse into one of the pools when the eco toxin rebuilds? Are you trying to get sicker?!"

"Not to mention," Daxter called, more calmly than Damas thought the situation warranted, "There's already peeps who act like bein' king around here only lasts until you show weakness. And frankly, I don't want any of those suckers in charge. Just take the vacation already, would you?!"

The boys had a point. He hated that the boys had a point. Hated that he'd been reduced to relying on children just to stand.

"You think they will not already assume weakness if I abandon my duties for three days?" Damas demanded.

Jak lifted his chin. "I already told everyone who came in that you were busy."

Damas pulled Jak a little closer by the ring, too astonished to even notice that he’d left the door controls free.

"You were not authorized to make that call."

Frustration bubbled in his veins, tipping too close to anger for his liking.

"Fine. Go out then. Get them all sick. Get the whole city sick, why don’t you! Go ahead!”

“Copaani mirshmure'cye, ‘ad?” Damas muttered under his breath.

You looking for a fight, boy?

Not like he needed to keep his voice down. He knew no one had taught the boys more than a few sentences in Joha -- the language Wastelanders used in front of enemies -- yet.

Jak pried Damas’s hand loose and dropped to the balls of his feet.

"You won't slow down for your own sake? How about theirs?"

Anger stirred the eco in Damas’s blood, and the eco circulated too close to the virus in his core. The pain began again, a dull ache for now that promised future knives in his lungs.

"Don't you dare, boy-" he warned.

Jak dared, apparently.

He had the temerity to push Damas, shoving him back a step.

"I deal with this all the time and it puts me down for days! You've never had it! It could kill you, don't you care?!"

Seeing the black look on the king's face, Jak pinched the bridge of his nose and inhaled sharply.

"This is going to get worse before it gets better. And it's my fault you caught the virus, so I'm not going anywhere until it passes. It's hell staying inactive. I know. It's-"

His voice quieted.

"It's like the Fortress. You're in pain, and you can't leave, and you know more pain is coming. But- but at least yours only lasts three days."

Damas faltered.

Jak had not told him the story of what Praxis had done to him willingly. Damas had walked into the washrooms below the Arena by chance just as Jak had been patching himself up after earning his second war amulet. And the scars he'd seen were not the kind a young fighter picked up in combat. The shame on the boy's face as he'd scrambled to get his wrist wrappings and shirt back on had struck a chord in Damas. Without really knowing why, he'd taken off his vambrace in the space of a minute, and moved back the wrappings to show the shine of old burns.

He'd spent more than his fair share of time on "excavations" -- a pretty word for Wastelanders being punished by the former king, left carving out of the cliff what eventually became the stables. By hand. In chains. In the midday heat. A lot of men died working that wall.

He didn't know why he'd told Jak that story. Why he'd told Jak about the two years when he was in chains more than out of them.

And yet it had meant something to Jak.

In that moment, a dam seemed to burst in the boy. The whole sordid tale had bubbled out of him in a tangle of words and desperation. He spoke as though he'd never encountered anyone who understood what it was to be that kind of survivor. To bear those kinds of scars. Like someone who had been asked why he couldn’t just “get over it” when the evidence was in his skin forever. He spoke like he was expelling poison from a wound.

That thought rang in Damas’s mind like a solemn bell.

Jak had overstepped, that was undeniable. But he seemed...

He seemed like he was desperate to keep the closest thing he had to a kindred spirit alive. The boy was legitimately afraid for him, wasn’t he?

Jak looked up again to meet his eyes, and there was a lot more emotion there than Damas had been expecting.

"Please," Jak insisted, "Just- Just rest! One more day, at least one more day, please!"

Damas felt a new round of pain beginning, starting in his vertebrae this time. Still, he couldn't just back down.

"Jak," he tried to gentle his voice past the harshness of pain. "I...know you do not understand what being king means. What is required."

"If it means breaking yourself down to bloody bones for people who will never be grateful, then yeah. He understands," Daxter said bitterly.

"Come on," Jak sounded like he was scolding now, "Didn't you say you have to pick your battles wisely sometimes?"

Oh confound that boy.

Damas’s spine twinged, but pride did not let him bend. Even so, Jak seemed to sense his pain. He sighed and, without a single word -- not even "I told you so" -- he offered his shoulder to support Damas long enough to get him back to the couch. Damas’s face burned with frustration and shame alike. To lose control of his body and have to do as the boy sais was infuriating. A little of that pique left him before he had time to guard his tongue.

"For the record, since you lack experience in the matter, most fathers would not tolerate being spoken to in such a manner by their sons."

Jak stiffened, and Damas regretted it. He knew that was a sore spot for the boy and he'd carelessly lashed out anyway.

Jak gave him a Look.

"Well you're the closest thing I got to one, so you’ll just have to deal with it.”

Damas actually winced. Jak seemed to mistake it for physical pain and sighed again.

"I'll get you more water. You're gonna need it in a minute."

"Less than a minute." Daxter glared at the king as he held up another glass of the vile liquid.

"Guess what, buddy? That attitude just earned you one free trip to Vomit Town."

"Dax," Jak called over his shoulder, "He's in pain as it is. You don't have to rub it in."

Daxter narrowed his eyes at Damas. He pointed silently at Jak’s back, then at Damas. Dramatically, he drew a finger across his throat: a clear warning of what would happen if Damas brought up absent parents again.

At the moment, Damas was more occupied with both the sensation of the virus congealing the eco in his core into an infected mass, and the mixed emotions he had about Jak’s parting shot.

"You're the closest thing I got to one", he'd said. The closest thing Jak had to a father. Him?!

Confound that boy. How does he always catch me off guard so easily?

More as a peace offering than anything else, he muttered, "Did you at least give them a reason?"

"Who?"

"Everyone you told I was busy. Did you give them a reason?" he pressed.

Jak returned with a recycled bottle filled with water.

"Yeah. But you're probably not going to like that, either," he said matter-of-factly. He nodded at the charcoal.

"Probably don't one-shot it this time."

"Don't tell me what to do," Damas grumbled rebelliously. But he noticeably didn't chug the medicine.

He'd survived on worse foods before. But that was irrelevant to his gag reflex. It took some doing to swallow the first sip, and each one after that got harder.

"Tell me what you told them, Jak." He narrowed his eyes over the rim of the glass. "I can't help you out of whatever mess you're determined to get yourself into if I don't know what I'm walking into."

Jak was generous enough to let Damas keep his pride. He shrugged and dropped to sit next to him with the weary expression of someone twice his age.

"I said you were researching the tunnels under Haven for something, and to mess up your concentration at their own risk."

Damas forced the last of the charcoal down in one gulp. Soon it would start absorbing the two enmeshed ecos that had caused the infection, and he'd be able to get some relief for a few more minutes. Physical relief, anyway. His mind was racing. That excuse- Jak wasn't supposed to know about the invasion plan. It was an "utmost end of need" scenario: if the Daystar impacted on the planet, he wanted his people safe in the Underport.

"And what..." he had to choose his words carefully.

He would overlook the major breaches in protocol Jak was tossing around like confetti. The boy's heart was in the right place. And it was very Spargan to act first and ask permission after. But he still wouldn't give Jak top secret information! If Jak was getting into dossiers he has no business touching-

"What made you think of tunnels?" Damas muscled through another painful spasm and feigned a teasing tone. "Planning to invade Haven, are you?"

Beside him, Jak's cheek twitched in an exhausted equivalent of a smile.

"Wishful thinking, honestly. But they bought it."

"For now."

Damas dug his fingers into the couch as the coughs he'd hoped to avoid made their next appearance.

"But you- still- can't-" the hacking overtook the rest of his words.

Jak scoffed. "It's not like I was making any decisions for you. They were all jobs you would've sent somebody to deal with anyway."

He lurched to the side as the first of the gel-like corrupted eco eruptions shot from Damas’s mouth and into a bucket Daxter had found. Poor guy. He had about three more rounds of the medicine, three hours apart, before the coughing gave way to just vomiting. Unfortunately that part lasted a whole day before giving way to musculoskeletal pain and vertigo.

Blackwater sucked.

"I'll take over, Dax," Jak yawned. "Go get some rest. You good with doing this tomorrow?"

He didn't ask Damas, notably.

"What're you gonna do this time?”

Jak fought to keep his eyes open. "Seem lost a party of monks in the volcano. I said I'd look into it. Probably going to end up putting the fear of Precursors into the asshole in the North Market who just started overcharging rookies for water to the point where they're stealing it. I said I'd look into that, too."

"Did you." The ottsel didn't sound that surprised. "And how, in your infinite grasp of diplomacy, did that go?"

A little too tired to be embarrassed, Jak made a helpless gesture.

"I said Damas was busy, and they'd better deal with their issues before I came over to deal with it for them."

"Yeah," Daxter sighed, "I was afraid you were gonna say something like that."

It was a little disturbing how the boy seemed to have set himself in a role like an enforcer. Like Sig's cover act in Haven.

"That's. Not. Your job," Damas gasped between retching coughs.

"I know: you said," Jak acknowledged. He rubbed his face with fingers just barely shaking. "Too late to take it back now."

He thought Damas was still upset about the crossing of boundaries he'd done. It was more than wounded pride that drew his concern though. Older feelings. Unpleasant memories.

"Crowns. Were not m- meant. To. Weigh. Down the. Young." Damas managed to fight through the pain in his joints to elbow Jak.

"Not. Your burden to. Bear."

Jak hesitated. Then,

"I know.”

[sparemintss]

YOU KNOW WHAT'S CRAZY TO ME????? BEN -FUCKING- WILLBOND WROTE A TRAGIC LITTLE WWII CO WHO JUST SO HAPPENED TO BE GAY AS FUCK AND WE ALL COLLECTIVELY CRIED ABOUT HIM. MAN FUCK U /aff

AND HE JUST SO HAPPENS TO BE ONBOARD WITH THE FANDOM TOO WITH PSC LIKE.... I HATE YALL /pos

HOW DARE YOU WRITE A WWII CAPTAIN WHO IS IN LOVE WITH HIS LIEUTENANT TURNED MAJOR. HOW DARE Y O U .

HOW DARE THE LIEUTENANT TURNED MAJOR TECHNICALLY RECIPROCATED THAT LOVE WITH GLANCES AND SECRECY IN FIRST NAME CALLING.

[royaibrainrot]

I’m reading an awesome eruri fic and found a pleasant surprise in one of the authors notes haha

[pippytmi]

maybe its bc im a writer who has had WIPs languish due to real life but it pisses me off when people make posts along the lines of "accidentally started reading a fic and its not finished 😡" like its some great inconvenience ....well some of us have depression so maybe fuck off 🙄

[choicesficwriterscreations]

CFWC F/AotW - Apr 21-27, 2024

✒️ = Fanfic | 📱= Text Fics/Edits | 🎨 = Fanart Ⓜ️ = Mature Content 18+ | 🔥 = Explicit/NSFW 18+ 🏳️‍🌈 = LGBTQIA

BLADES OF LIGHT & SHADOW

Imtura x F!MC 🎨by @gaiuskamilah

A Midnight Chat ✒️| Tyril Starfury x F!human!MC - @thosehallowedhalls

Post Retirement Plans ✒️| Kade, MC - @inlocusmads

CRIMES OF PASSION

Second Languages - Part 3 ✒️| m!Trystan Thorne - @inlocusmads

The Secret History ✒️| m!Trystan Thorne x F!MC - @thosehallowedhalls

ENDLESS SUMMER

Quinn Kelly 🎨by @ladylucitor

THE FRESHMAN SERIES

Zig Ortega x F!MC Fanart 🎨by @bayleedraws-sometimesx (C: @choiceswithmika)

KINDRED

Time ✒️| Ranier x F!MC - @thosehallowedhalls

IMMORTAL DESIRES

Cas Harllow Fanart 🎨by @nukritus

Gabe, Cas, MC Group Chat 📱by @livelaughlovecassie

Starlight Smut Supercut - Burning Gasoline ✒️Ⓜ️🔥🏳️‍🌈| m!Cas Harlow x m!Gabe adalhard x NB!MC) - @aria-ashryver

LAWS OF ATTRACTION

Preliminaries ✒️ | Martin Vanderweil x Genderqueer!MC - @thosehallowedhalls for @oh-so-youre-a-nerd

NIGHTBOUND

Path of Love & Seduction ✒️| Nik Ryder x F!MC - @ladylamrian

OPEN HEART

Christmas Through Your Eyes Fanart 🎨by @/artbyainna (IG) (C: @jerzwriter)

Earth Day 📱| Ethan Ramsey x F!MC - @liaromancewriter

In All the World 🎨| Bryce Lahela x F!MC by @slayannaart (C: @storyofmychoices)

It's Bugging Me... 📱| Tobias Carrick x F!MC - @jerzwriter

Just Us 📱| Rafael Aveiro x F!MC - @rafasgirl23415

Lavender Getaway 📱Ethan Ramsey x F!MC - @liaromancewriter

Moving In (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️ | Rafael Aveiro x F!MC - @rafasgirl23415 Chapter 35: Please Save My Baby

RED CARPET DIARIES

Thomas Hunt x F!OC Fanart 🎨 by @bayleedraws-sometimesx (C: @dutifullynuttywitch for @theartoflovingthomashunt)

THE ROYAL ROMANCE

Complete TRR F/AotW List Week Ending April 27, 2024

WAKE THE DEAD

In the Garden ✒️| Troy Hassan, F!MC, May - @jerzwriter

[arctrooperechy]

MER AND HUNTER MY ABSOLUTE BELOVED BABIES I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS IS REAL!!!!

Thank you so much @ethiobirds for just being the most lovely artist alive 🥺💖

Kindred prologue and chapter one are up on my blog now!!!

[vladdyissues]

have you ever seen this video of Fiona Apple reacting to the intertwining mating ritual of leopard slugs? ( https://youtu.be/kl7TP1hmdKw?feature=shared ) because it's a little how I picture Syndis when you describe it in Familiar and is also my euphoric reaction to it omg

(also hope you're feeling okay!! ♡⊂⁠(⁠´⁠･⁠◡⁠･⁠⊂⁠ ⁠))

I was not expecting to receive Fiona Apple getting emotional over slug mating in my inbox but this has literally made my entire weekend thank you 😂😂😂

No seriously like. I didn't expect it to be actually beautiful. I mean. That shade of blue. And then a frigging flower? Made out of penises?

I am taking notes.

Here's the BBC video in question (with unsurpassed narration by David Attenborough and a score that would make Howard Shore weep; video starts at the good part):

The excerpt (for reference):

Between his waist and Vlad’s hung a dazzling mass of pure energy, crackling and spitting sparks like severed high-tension wires. From one side of the mass sprouted a plait of glimmering blue tendrils, which disappeared through Danny’s t-shirt and into his belly. On Vlad’s side, a similar braid, slightly thicker and glowing red, emerged from his abdomen and joined the fulgent knot that bound them together. The knot radiated silvery purple light, augmented with splashes of shifting color, like an aurora. The blue and red tendrils moved as if alive, tightening their clasp on one another. It brought to mind images of two deep-sea creatures locked in either coitus or combat; boneless, brainless organisms, nothing but a gnarl of nerve endings and rudimentary intellect. Patterns of light pulsed down the translucent coils. It was grotesque. It was beautiful. And Danny reacted like any other sane, well-adjusted person when confronted with such mortifying paranormal phenomena.

He went berserk.

[aevallare]

KINDRED - CHAPTER 72/WHO KNOWS

reunited and it hurts so bad.

[mangledskull]

Gal’s date outfit :)

His date in question:

[redelliavalentinos]

Just wanted a proper portrait of my little ice imp/fairy?

[dreamingofmaidensandmonsters]

Super happy to join the Hellcheer Anniversary event and celebrate my fave ship with a new fic!!💖 Here's my cute stalker Chrissy wip!

She looks at him as if she can’t believe he’s in front of her. In his fucking room. She must have been expecting him at some satanic gathering or is wondering why he isn’t sleeping drenched in virgin blood inside his coffin and saying stuff like “Who dares disturb the sleep of Eddie the Freak?” Eddie smirks. “‘No? Well, you took something, right, sweetheart? Cheerleaders gotta pay like everyone else, you know?”

Read on AO3

I forgot to mention @hellcheeranniversaryweek cause I'm so bad at this lol Sorry! Thanks for organizing the event! ❤️ This was for Day 5, the free day! :)