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[puddygeeks]

Wᴇ Cᴏᴍᴇ Rᴜɴɴɪɴɢ - Tʜᴇ 100 Bᴇʟʟᴀᴍʏ x OC - Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 25: Rᴇᴛᴀʟɪᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

Masterlist

Episode: I Am Become Death

Rating: Mature

Summary: During her time in the Skybox, Indigo formed a precious friendship with fellow outcast Octavia Blake, the girl under the floor. At first they thought their departure from the oppression of the Ark was a blessing, but quickly came to rely on Indigo's keen survival instincts. The 100 struggle to meet the challenges of Earth whilst Bellamy strives to lead the wavering teenagers and his irresponsible attitude fuels constant conflict with Indigo. Their only shared interest is in protecting Octavia and Indigo beings to suspect that there is a deeper cause to Bellamy's seemingly irrational choices. As the consequences of his actions mount up around him, he finally begins to confide in her and she discovers more than she ever bargained for. 

Fandom: CW’s The 100

Pairing: OC x Bellamy Blake

LONG TERM ONGOING PROJECT :)

My writing is entirely fuelled by coffee! If you enjoy my work, feel free to donate toward my caffeine dependency: will work for coffee

Warnings: Mature content. Non-consent, language, sex, self harm, suicide, anxiety, helplessness, torture, captivity/confinement, alcohol/drug use.

Chapter Twenty-Five

When I next opened my eyes, I could tell that I’d been asleep for a long time. I stepped out of the tent and stretched out happily. I strolled toward the centre of camp to get an update on events. I picked Monty out of a gossiping crowd and approached him with a smile. 

“God, I slept so hard.” I chirped and noticed that he seemed distracted. “What disasters did I miss? Did the others get back okay?” I questioned with a joking smile before my face dropped when he didn’t smile back.

“Yeah, everyone is back fine. Actually, more people came back than expected.” He answered cryptically and I stared at him assessingly. “We found Murphy outside of camp last night.” He muttered under his breath and I felt my breath hitch in response. For a moment, I couldn’t believe what I’d heard and I stared at him with wide eyes.

“Murphy?” I confirmed, feeling a knot form in my stomach as he nodded in response. “Shit, that’s not going to go well.” I muttered and Monty rubbed a nervous hand on the back of his neck.

“I know he’s an asshole... but I caught a glimpse of him as they brought him inside and he looked horrific. From what I’ve heard, he was tortured by the grounders and it really does look that way.” Monty explained with a conflicted expression and my mouth dropped open in shock. I was about to question him more when I heard raised voices from the dropship. 

“Thanks Monty, I’d better go deal with this.” I drawled with a building feeling of dread in my stomach. I forced one last quick smile at him, before heading in the direction of the voices. I rushed into the ship to see Bellamy, Finn and Clarke in a heated conversation and stopped in my tracks as I tried to catch up on the situation. 

“Once he’s better, we find out what he knows and then he’s out of here, ok?” 

I caught Clarke speaking to Bellamy in a hushed tone and it was clear that they were both engrossed in conversation. She moved to leave and I strode past her, further into the space. My attention landed on a small, shivering shape in the corner that vaguely resembled Murphy and I gasped in horror. He was coated in blood and even a quick glance revealed that his claims of torture were true. His body was covered in welts, burns, cuts and a selection of injuries that came directly from nightmares. I started to approach him slowly and Bellamy was too focused on Clarke to have noticed me.

“What if he refuses to leave?” Bellamy called to her back, but I kept my stunned eyes on Murphy. He quivered in fear as he scrutinised me and I tried to move as carefully as possible. “What do we do with him then?” Bellamy probed as they continued their argument behind me.

I took my time to enter Murphy’s space as he was jumpy and made it clear that I meant him no harm. I crouched down to his level and reached out to him carefully. I delicately took his hands into mine and realised with a grimace that his fingernails had been pulled out. I inspected him with such sympathy that I could barely hold back the tears, as I took in the shivering wreck that remained of him.

“Then we kill him.” Clarke delayed in a tone that was icy cold and I felt my temper growing at their conversation. I returned to a standing position and turned on the spot to squint at the two of them. They both had crossed arms and were staring at Murphy with threatening expressions. 

“You two need to get out.” I spat, planting myself in front of him defensively. Bellamy seemed to finally register that I was here and he was clearly immensely uncomfortable with my proximity to Murphy. 

“He can’t be here. Indigo, get out of my way.” He growled with an aggravated tone as he stepped towards me and his eyes flitted to Murphy with a blatant disgust.

“Stop it!” I yelled as my patience snapped and my voice raised without my consideration. “That’s enough from both of you.” I stated with a nod over to Clarke to confirm that my disappointment extended to her. “Bellamy, I know what happened because of his actions, but that doesn’t change that he’s one of the 100 and he has been tortured. He needs help and all you’re doing is making his suffering worse. If you want information from him, he needs to be well enough to speak. Look at him, right now he can barely even keep his eyes open! Get out.” I ordered with a bitter frustration and Bellamy regarded me in an obvious shock. “You too Clarke!” I announced as I threw a dismissing hand at her too. “You both made the decision on his punishment, it’s not appropriate for you to be involved now and it wont reflect well on your authority to camp! I’ll take responsibility for the decision to help him and we can discuss how you punish me for that to save face to the camp later.” I spoke quickly in my anger and as soon as I’d finished, I turned back towards Murphy again.

“Indigo, I can help you to-” I heard Clarke’s remorseful voice from behind before I’d even managed to bend again. I could tell that my words had caused a shame in her but her continued presence only served to make me more angry. I whipped back around to face her in fury. 

“Did I stutter?” I snarled as I looked between them. “OUT! Both of you!” I yelled and they both jumped at my sudden temper. I gave one final glare before turning back to Murphy and was relieved to finally hear their footsteps leave the ship. 

I took a few moments to gather supplies including a flask of Monty’s Moonshine and several rags, and water. I returned to Murphy’s side carefully as he quivered and watched me with a nervousness that broke my heart to witness. I took my time to gain his trust, starting by simply soaking his hands in warm water to try to clean him up. Once he was relaxed enough to let me do that without twitching at every minimal contact, I moved on to cleaning the cuts on his arms. I gradually worked my way up to a large burn that covered practically his entire shoulder. I could hardly stand to look at it, the brutality of what had been done to him was unbearable. I met his swollen eyes with a look of deep sadness.

“Why are you even helping me?” He choked out even as he struggled to get his breath. “You’ve been in my face since day one.” He muttered accusingly and I sighed as I continued to clean the huge amount of injuries on his body. 

“Because you need it.” I answered firmly and he scoffed. “I got in your face because your bad decisions were leading the entire camp down a dangerous road, one that backfired on you.” I confessed as I wring out the cloth in the water and kept my focus on cleaning him. I found it difficult to meet his eyes as I comprehended the results of his banishment. “Whatever you did, you’ve endured more punishment than you deserved. I’m going to make sure it ends here.” I assured him, holding his gaze. He fidgeted awkwardly and I clocked several cuts through a tear in his shirt. When he leaned back against the wall, I slid the shirt to get a better look at them and realised they were deeper than the rest of his injuries. He flinched away from my touch and I gazed with a gentle understanding.

“Murphy, I really need to clean these or they’ll definitely get infected. I’ll spare you as much pain as I can, but these ones need alcohol. I promise I’ll be tender.” I reasoned with him and although he still viewed me with suspicion, he lowered his guard.

I guided his arm out of the t-shirt so that I could pull one side up to his neck, revealing three large, deep gashes. I opened the bottle of moonshine and peeked at him for a sign that he was prepared. As soon as he nodded and gritted his teeth, I poured the moonshine over and he cried out. I quickly put it down and as he leaned forward to double up in pain I pulled him into me, allowing him to rest his head on my shoulder. I rubbed his back soothingly as I felt his hot tears soaking into my shirt and battled to keep my composure. We remained in this position until he willingly sat back and perceived me with surprise.

Once I’d finished with the wounds on his chest, I left his side momentarily to fetch some fresh water. In the moment that I was about to return, I was startled by the sound of retching and turned back to see Murphy on his hands and knees. He was bringing up copious amounts of bright red fluid and the strain seemed to be causing him to almost convulse. I rushed back over to his side to support him and once he was done, I helped him back into a sitting position. I pushed his wet hair back from his face and he stared at me with terrified eyes. Clarke suddenly stormed into the room to make a bee line for him, but I wouldn’t let her past me, blocking her from touching him. 

“Clarke, are you incapable of understanding?! You can’t be here!” I hissed as I stopped her from passing me.

“I’m sorry but this is important.” She insisted and I stared at her in annoyance as she settled almost beside me instead. “Murphy, I need you to tell me exactly how you escaped from the grounders. What happened?” She grilled and I took a deep breath in an effort to contain my temper. Murphy shook his head in a slow heavy manner and I could feel the tension building in my chest. 

“I don’t know.” He mumbled and more fluid fell from his mouth as he spoke. I grabbed a damp rag and wiped his mouth with an impatient glance at Clarke.

“Clarke, he’s sick. Can’t this wait?” I questioned as I felt the growing sickness of her insistent behaviour. Despite my words, she stared at him expectantly and he struggled to get the words out. 

“I woke up and they forgot to lock my cage. There was no one there so I took off.” He answered in difficulty and I started to block her again. 

“They let you go.” She whispered in a crestfallen manner as she leaned away. 

“You have your answer, now get out.” I spat as I finally ran out of patience and pushed her the rest of the way out of his space. “Try to relax Murphy.” I voiced reassuringly as I pushed his hair back from his face again to calm him. I wiped the cloth around his face to clean the various wounds, worrying that if any of the fluid were to get in them it would cause an infection. As I busied myself with this, I caught the sound of heavy footsteps and knew without even turning around who had just entered.

“Bellamy, stay back!” Clarke called in a frantic manner and I couldn’t help wondering what had changed her tune. I rolled my eyes as I prepared for whatever conflict was about to happen and sighed in annoyance. I dipped the cloth in the water again and held it gently to Murphy’s head to cool him off, holding his hair back carefully. I glanced over my shoulder to see that Bellamy had paused in place in the centre of the room and was watching me tend to Murphy with a furious expression. He then glanced over to Clarke in concern and at his expression I made my first proper assessment of her since she had entered. She looked awful, her skin was pale and covered in a sheen of sweat.

“Did he do something to you?” Bellamy interrogated and I glared back at him. I peeked at Clarke and realised that she had red fluid around her eyes with a lurch in my stomach. Bellamy seemed to notice this at the same moment as his eyes grew wide. “What the hell is this?” He asked, tensely glancing between her and Murphy.

“Biological warfare.” She revealed with a hint of fear in her voice. “You were waiting for the grounders to retaliate for the bridge? This is it. Murphy is the weapon.” Clarke spoke poignantly and Murphy looked up at Bellamy nervously. I understood why, as I anticipated Bellamy responding to this information rashly and mentally prepared myself to stand my ground. I grabbed a nearby cup of water and held it up to Murphy’s lips. 

“You need to keep hydrated, here.” I ordered quietly in an effort not to draw attention to us. He took a long, careful drink and I placed the cup at his side. I was tenderly pushing his hair back again when I was suddenly dragged backwards by my shirt along the dropship floor. I struggled in an attempt to stop the motion, but it was to no avail. The moment that I stopped in the middle of the room, I sprung furiously to my feet only to find that it was Bellamy who was responsible. “What the fuck is wrong with you?! I told you to get out, what part of that is hard for you to understand?!” I snarled as I felt myself shaking in outrage.

“He’s contagious!” He growled back as he pointed at Murphy, but I recognised a hint of jealousy in his eyes as he perceived him. “Didn’t you hear Clarke, you can’t be near him. We should get him out whilst we still can!” He threatened and moved to step toward Murphy. I didn’t hesitate for a moment in blocking him, pushing him back with all of my might. I surprised even myself at the power I managed to produce as adrenaline flooded me. I threw him back with a viscous glare and he stopped in his tracks. 

“Don’t make me put you on your ass Bellamy, because so help me god, I will! Get out of my sight!” I rasped, radiating anger on a level that he hadn’t seen from me before. I could tell from his wide eyes that he hadn’t anticipated this kind of veracity from me and I dug my heels in.

“He’ll make you sick!” Bellamy argued, defensively indicating back to Murphy and his brows knitted together as he tried to appeal to me.

“You already beat him to it!” I screamed in a loss of control as my venomous nature overwhelmed my senses. Bellamy froze in shock at my words and I narrowed my eyes at him. He opened his mouth to speak and closed it again several times as he seemed to be lost for words and I pushed a feeling of regret to the back of my mind.

“Indigo, you need to get away from him, you’re not sick yet. You might be immune and if you are they’ll need you in camp.” Clarke approached me carefully from behind and it was clear that she wanted to put an end to the rising tensions. Although she tried to draw my attention to her I kept my eyes fixed furiously on Bellamy.

“I’m not leaving him to suffer.” I stated adamantly without even looking at her and Bellamy scoffed in annoyance as my attitude broke through his shock. 

“I’ll take care of him, I’m already infected.” Clarke suggested in a soft voice and I finally looked at her sceptically. 

“I don’t trust you.” I announced coldly whilst I crossed my arms. “Both of you openly discussed killing him, right in front of him, this morning. Don’t you think he’s been through enough punishment?!” I argued as I appealed to their reasonable sides, despite the endless fury that burned in my chest.

“Clarke’s right.” Bellamy declared as he clocked me with a cold, determined expression. “Get her out of here.” He ordered as he dropped his gaze to the ground and in barely a few moments two of his followers descended on me. I was furious that he didn’t have the decency to remove me himself and it struck me that he was using them to distance himself from the action. They grabbed both of my arms and began to drag me from the space. I kicked and thrashed desperately, making every step difficult for them but I couldn’t stop them from taking me. 

“No, you can’t do this!” I howled as I fought aimlessly. As I was about to be carried over the threshold, the sounds of coughing and violent seizing paused us all in place. After barely thirty seconds of vomiting sounds and what sounded like a disagreement, Clarke called out to them. 

“Bring her back.” She ordered, causing them to drag me back into the ship and they held onto me as they awaited instructions. “We need to set up a quarantine zone, you can’t take her anywhere.” She clarified as her brows knitted and both of the men holding me looked to Bellamy for confirmation. He nodded reluctantly, and it was clear that he wasn’t satisfied with this outcome. The men finally released their grip on me and I marched back over to Murphy without even looking at Bellamy. I picked up a fresh rag to begin tending to Murphy’s badly beaten face again and had to battle to return to tender movements as I shook with rage. In all of the commotion, I didn’t even notice Finn enter the space until I heard him asking Clarke what to do.

“Round up everyone who had contact with Murphy. Bring them here.” She instructed and Finn immediately rushed out to do her bidding.

“And everyone they’ve had contact with.?” I heard Bellamy questioning her order and my stomach lurched. I could only imagine how extreme things would become if he had any input.

“Well, we have to start somewhere.” Clarke answered in annoyance. “Connor, who was with you when you found him?” I heard her grilling another sick person and rolled my eyes at her complete lack of empathy. “Who carried him in? Think.” She demanded. The response was slow and when he finally spoke, his voice was quiet. 

“The first one there was Octavia.” He confirmed in a gravelly voice. I felt my stomach twist in response and I observed Bellamy over my shoulder with wide eyes.

“No, she can’t have.” I gasped in denial as I felt fear gripping my chest.

Without a single word, Bellamy rushed from the ship and I was still trapped, forced to wait nervously. I continued to nurse Murphy as he gradually got worse, but I could hardly think straight over the panic in my mind. After a few moments, Bellamy dragged Octavia into the shop and Clare began checking her over. By this point, many other people were arriving and the space was quickly becoming crowded. I waited anxiously for an answer from Clarke, as she shined a flashlight in Octavia’s mouth. 

“Okay, we’re done.” She announced and I immediately rushed over to find out what was happening. “No visible signs of swelling or bleeding.” She explained and I peeked up at Bellamy to see him holding a rag over his face. If I weren’t still furious with his behaviour today I’d scold him for even being in here, but I knew that like me, when it came to Octavia there was no reasoning with him.

“So you’re saying she doesn’t have it?” Bellamy asked hopefully and I found myself hoping alongside him.

“I’m saying she doesn’t have symptoms, like Indigo. But that could change. We need to keep her here too, just in case.” Clarke reported in a matter of fact manner and I mentally thanked every force I could for keeping her healthy so far.

“No way. Look at this place. She’ll get sick just being here.” Bellamy argued against the order and for the first time today I actually agreed with him.

“Seriously Clarke, she can’t be here.” I blurted despite my reluctance to agree with Bellamy and he glanced at me, quickly looking away when he saw that I noticed.

“Do you want to stop the spread or not?” Clarke probed in an exasperated voice and Bellamy scanned the sick people filling the room reluctantly. “Look, I’ll keep her on the third level with the people who aren’t symptomatic yet.” She clarified but it was clear that he still wasn’t convinced. “Think of it as a way to stop her from sneaking out again.” She reasoned and I studied her suspiciously.

“Screw you Clarke.” Octavia spat and I smiled at her attitude. Clarke shrugged in a tired response and I realised that she seemed to be getting worse too. 

“I’ll let you know if her condition changes.” She promised and Bellamy finally nodded in agreement. I hid my relief when he finally left the ship and it wasn’t lost on me that it took the promise of containing his sister to motivate him to agree to keeping her here. Octavia stepped to climb the ladder but Clarke turned immediately to stop her. “Octavia stop.” She blurted and I watched with interest, already feeling that Clarke was up to something. “I need you to sneak out again.” She divulged and I couldn’t contain the words that fought their way from me.

“No, absolutely not.” I growled as I stepped in front of Octavia defensively in an effort to shield her from Clarke’s plan.

“We need to know if there’s a cure. If she can get to Lincoln, he may have an antidote, like last time.” Clarke reasoned as she addressed me and I spied her with an expression of disbelief.

“If she can get there! In case you forgot, the woods are filled with grounders who want us dead.” I argued as I stepped closer into her space in a threatening manner.

“I can do it, I’ll be back as soon as possible.” Octavia answered, taking advantage of the slight additional distance between us now. She rushed from my reach before I could stop her and although I moved to catch her up, she practically ran out of the dropship. Clarke stepped into my path with a wavering attempt at a firm look. 

“Indigo, people are dying, she’s our only chance.” Clarke appealed to me and I glared at her in fury, pacing like a caged animal.

“This was a mistake, and lying to Bellamy about it is even worse. He trusted you to keep her safe.” I spat in disgust. “I’m sick of everyone in this camp involving me in their lies.” I breathed but I was interrupted by the sound of Murphy choking again. I tore myself away from Clarke to tend to him again, despite wishing that I’d been able to fully express my disappointment with her decision.

Clarke rounded up some of the more able members of the quarantine to remove the bodies of those who had already succumbed to the infection. She followed them out whilst I looked after Murphy in an effort to stop myself obsessing over Octavia. I started to lightly cough and when I returned my gaze to him, Murphy was staring at me with alarm.

“Your eyes.” He gasped. I rubbed the edge of my eye and glanced down at my hand to find tears that were tinted with a slightly pink tone. Murphy leaned over to grab a clean rag and wiped away any trace of the fluid. I smiled at him gratefully and got to my feet. 

I quickly walked to the entrance in search of Clarke. I was driven by a need to tell her that her immunity theory wasn’t looking promising, as I now panicked that Octavia could have developed symptoms whilst alone in the woods. I stepped just outside of the doors and found Clarke standing on the ramp to the ship talking to Bellamy from a distance. As I wandered out, Clarke turned around to head in and clocked my presence with a worried expression.

“Octavia, you okay?” Bellamy called upwards and Clarke met my eyes in pure panic. When he didn't receive an answer, he moved to storm into the ship and I stepped past her to block him from entering. I couldn’t allow him to put himself at risk, especially only to find that he’d been lied to. 

“She’s not here Bellamy. Clarke sent her to look for Lincoln, against my advice.” I answered with bitterness, glaring at Clarke in annoyance. I was done with helping to keep secrets. She turned reluctantly to face him and he glowered at her viciously. 

“Look, if there’s a cure, he has it.” She tried to justify her decision but he seemed thoroughly unimpressed with her excuse. “I didn’t tell you because I knew you wouldn’t let her go.” She admitted in a small voice causing him to scoff.

“If anything happens to her, you and me are gonna have problems.” He growled, before turning on his heel to stomp away from us.

“Us too.” I spat, crossing my arms at her. “You should have trusted him with the decision. He’s more reasonable than you give him credit for.” I stated firmly. Despite my outrage at his behaviour today, I didn’t appreciate her treating him like a wild animal. 

A commotion in the crowd drew my attention as Bellamy yelled at someone to get to the dropship. I scanned the faces until I found the person who was coughing up blood and I calmly walked over to them. At the same time, another person fell to the ground on the other side of the gathered crowd. I could hear a panic overtaking as people started to frantically rush out of the way, but I kept my focus on the guy who was now bleeding profusely from his eyes. As I reached him, I wrapped an arm around his waist to support his weight and assisted in getting him to the ship. As the screaming grew louder, I could feel the camp descending into chaos around me but I resisted the urge to look around or involve myself in any way. Clarke appeared at the entrance of the dropship with a large gun and fired multiple shots into the air to draw the attention of the crowd. I was nearly at the door by the time she took control and ignored her opening speech. I struggled inside and placed the person I’d supported down into a comfortable position with others who could tend to them. I straightened myself up and started marching toward the gate to exit camp with purpose. I heard Bellamy violently disarm someone who was foolish enough to point a gun at Clarke, but I didn’t stop moving due to fear of drawing attention to myself. 

“Not to state the obvious, but your quarantine isn’t working.” Bellamy addressed her firmly and I breathed a slight laugh.

“Finn don’t touch her!” I heard Raven call out in a panicked tone. I glanced over my shoulder to see Finn running over to catch Clarke as her knees buckled and I rolled my eyes at his foolishly romantic nature. Just as I reached out to touch the gate Bellamy appeared beside me, holding it closed to stop me from leaving. 

“Where are you going?” He grilled as he surveyed me in a state of disbelief. I fidgeted on the spot as I squirmed under his intense gaze.

“To find Octavia before this madness gets any worse.” I explained as I tried in vain to push past him but he put a hand on my arm as he spoke again.

“You’re supposed to be in quarantine.” He stated firmly as he raised a brow at me and I was surprised to find that the tension between us from earlier seemed to have dissolved.

“Then you probably shouldn’t be touching me.” I replied, glancing down at his hand with a sly smile and he stepped back with a reluctance in his eyes. “She’s been out there for too long, I need to find her. I’m not sick, I can do it.” I insisted as I lied through my teeth in the hope that he couldn’t see any hint of the tears that Murphy had wiped away earlier. As they were only slightly tinged with red, I felt I still had enough time to recover Octavia and get back before my symptoms worsened. He leaned back to allow me to leave but before I could move, the gate swung open to reveal Octavia who pushed past the two of us without a word.

“There is no cure.” She announced in a flat tone as she drew the attention of the camp. “But the grounders don’t use the sickness to kill.” She clarified, causing the sounds of confusion to echo from the crowd. Bellamy strode over to her in irritation and I stayed rooted to the spot, unwilling to put myself in the middle of them again. 

“Really? Tell that to them!” He argued, as he pointed to the pile of bodies that had just been carried from the ship. “I warned you about seeing that grounder again.” He hissed in a disappointed manner and I found myself relieved that I hadn’t been a part of that conversation. 

“Yeah well, I have a warning for you too.” She spat, looking at him with the same furious disdain she had viewed me with yesterday. “The grounders are coming! They’re attacking at first light!” She yelled, earning several gasps and cries of panic from the camp. I felt myself tense in response to this information and Octavia turned to face me with wide eyes. “Indigo, your eyes!” She gasped. I put a hand to my eyes and found red tears again, which were significantly more vivid than when they had started earlier. 

“Shit.” I hissed, before holding up a hand to keep her away. “Don’t touch me, I need to get back to quarantine.” I ordered firmly and couldn’t help feeling frustrated that my symptoms had worsened so quickly. Octavia inspected me in worry, but I waited for her to move first in an attempt to keep her at a distance. She sighed and started to walk away, but instead of taking herself away from infected people she approached Finn, glancing back to check that I was following. 

“Come on, I’ll help you get Clarke into the dropship.” She suggested as they started to carry Clarke between them. I slowly plodded through camp and towards the ship, finding the short journey back far more difficult than I did the first time. 

“How many bullets can you make by first light?”

 I heard Bellamy speaking to Raven as I passed them and I got the strange sensation that everything was happening in slow motion. I felt my legs shaking and my vision gradually blurred until I couldn’t make out my surroundings. Before I could reach out to anything to support myself, my legs gave way and I dropped toward the ground. I was surprised when I didn’t feel an impact and instead seemed to be rising higher. I felt myself being cradled and squinted to my side to see Bellamy regarding me in concern. It took me a moment to understand that he had caught me and was clutching me to his chest in a bridal style carry.

“Stop!” I tried to sound assertive but my voice came out quiet and croaking. “Don’t touch me, you’ll get sick.” I hissed whilst I tried to push him away.

“Too late to worry about that now.” He tried to force a smile but it didn’t reach his eyes, which still scrutinised me with worry.

“No it’s not, put me down and rinse your hands in alcohol.” I ordered and although it sounded authoritative in my mind, my words came out breathy and soft. I wiggled in an attempt to get away from him for a second, before my arms dropped limply and I felt my head tipping back. I had no energy left to move at all and hung in his arms like a ragdoll.

“Let’s get you inside.” Bellamy answered gently, carrying me toward the dropship.

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[theotter99]

Uncovering Fables

Intermission 1.2 

The first task was to set up security in my lab. I couldn’t allow any of the samurai around accidently walking into my lab and seeing that I was setting up to have a creature living here. What would they think? Something tells me that they would turn me to the emperor and I wouldn’t be able to defend myself before the sword comes down onto my neck.

I needed to keep my entire plan secret. This wasn’t difficult since no one cared about what I was doing for this country. I will prove to them that they should have paid more attention. Just watch.

It took me a while, but I have managed to set up a defense mechanism in the corridor leading to my lab. I used a fine orb that I found in my travels and used it for power along with a mechanism to shut it off at the front of the corridor, I put up a sign, warning people from entering. Yes, this may have all been very dangerous but I had no choice but to go with these measures. The more I push back on the others here, the more I can work in peace. Even if it meant someone getting injured because they didn’t listen to my instructions.

I doubt that would happen. I am started to be very thankful that less and less people come here.

Now, as I sit in my lab and glance around, I mentally prepared for what I am planning to do. I still have a few supplies to get but every day of work is just another step closer to accomplishing my plan. Hopefully this turns out well. 

I think I have everything. I do not know how big this creature is, but from watching the seas from a distance I decided that the creature couldn’t be any bigger than I was, which is a blessing.

Stealing some materials from the other rooms, I have managed to wield a metal bar cage where the creature would be kept. There aren’t any extra mats to lay on the bottom of the cage for the creature to relax on but that is fine. I doubt it will need much comfort.

I have also spent the day yesterday, fishing. I have a decent amount of food that the creature would. I also have water if the creature starts to dry up. And I believe that is all I need. I will get the rest I need for tonight and in the morning, I plan to sneak out to do my tasks. 

Hopefully the gods will bless me yet again and I will be successful. 

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I didn’t realize how difficult it would be to find the creature in the first place. I left for the sea just as the sun was starting to rise and I didn’t get a sign of anything until the sun was beating overtop me. I stuck around the fish’s community until I finally saw a tail in the distance. I quickly paddled my way towards that direction.

What happened next happened at such a speed that it is hard for me to remember the exact events? Writing down an exact account of what happened would be difficult. And if I did decide to write down how I did it might cause some trouble. During my battle with the creature, with nature, I used so much methods that the emperor would feel against by that if he ever read this, I may lose even more then my status. To protect my life, I will not say much except for two things.

First, as I fought with the creature, its front claws tried to strike me down. It managed to claw across my arm and I am still in pain now. I was in fear for a moment that my arm would fall off. After looking at my injury though, I know that it will sting for a few days but I should be fine.

This does not matter though as we go into my second point. I have caught it. It almost felt impossible at one point but thankfully I have played around with some chemicals before this and I have made a liquid that will make anything asleep and now I have the creature in my procession. 

As I write, the creature is sleeping in the cage that I have created for it. It has struggled a lot by I have managed to make it fall asleep and carry it here without anyone noticing me. It is a miracle that I have managed to do this and I cannot help but thank my ancestors for guarding me specifically.

Currently, I feel my heart pounding and my hand shakes as I write. I have managed to do this- me! I feel a sense of pride overcoming me and why should I not be happy about this? All the other people here believed that they were better than me but what if I am the better one. My ancestors are watching me so I should be happy for this accomplishment.  

As I write this, I cannot help but look at the creature curled up in the cage, resting. It is such a beautiful creature. The more I look at it, the less I want to call it a creature and refer it to a Mizuchi for it appears to be a water dragon. Its long snake-like body is not any taller than I am, and its curled up tightly into the cage so it can barely fit with some comfort. It’s covered with scales that are shimming in a green-blue color, with some highlights of a darker blue color. It has two sets of short legs with sharp, dark claws at the end of its fingers and toes. Along its belly and undersides, the scales are more pronounced and isn’t as shiny as the rest of the body. Its fins along its back, tail and elbows are dark, flowy and thin like paper and its pointed in several areas. When I look at its fine features on his face, I believe it to be a fully grown adult, as its whistles on its short snort is long and flowing and its horns are short and sharp. Some of its sharp, and deadly teeth pokes out of its mouth and some more whiskers are on to underside of his chin. Its ears are large and floppy, with darker scales on it and its striking eyes are blue and pink.

I remember when I tried to catch it, its eyes glared at me, promising death but I should be safe with it in the cage. There is nothing to worry about.

I will continue to give updates of anything has happened.

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

[This next entry has blood scattered across the decaying paper] 

It is the next day, and the Mizuchi is finally awake. With the dragon still in its cage, I will attempt to take some samples from it that I was unable to when it was sleeping. 

[The biggest blood stain on this entry follows]

I should have expected it to try to fight back. It has struck at my arm yet again and I need to treat this right away. I am sorry for the short entry but I need to rest my arm for the day.

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

A lot has happened today but first I need to say what had happened in the middle of the night.

As I laid on my mat, I work up in the middle of the night to the sound of a low growl. I quickly sat up and stared at the cage just at the other side of the room, and that when I saw glowing eyes staring at me. This thing wanted me dead. This was clear, but I wasn’t going to let it go. I couldn’t. It was mine now and I was going to use it for my research. Chills went down my spine as I thought about this and fear washed over me.

Shaking, I knew that even if I decided to let this dragon go, I couldn’t. The moment I opened up that door for it to leave, the dragon would rip me to shards. If I dumped it in the ocean, if would only follow me back here and try to kill me. I couldn’t let that happen. Not when the gods themselves want me to successes.

I was far too deep into this mess to back down and I won’t let those eyes intimidate me. 

Later on, I was called for a meeting where everyone dared to ask me several questions due to my absence lately and some people noticing my constant leaving to go fishing. The one in charge stared at me untrusting and dared to wonder if I was actually a spy. After all, I have shown nothing for what I have been sent here to do. I stayed locked up in my lab all day without speaking to anyone so what exactly was I doing here?

Of course, now they care. Of course, they start to wonder what I was doing here. And when they do, the assume the worst out of me. Did they forget that they were the ones who has put me in this position? That due to their failures to notice me, I decided to hide away from them because they don’t care?

Of course, I didn’t say any of this to the leader. I kept my anger and pride in because that would only get them suspense. So, I only told them that I was on the urge of a breakthrough and soon I would show them my work and they will be pleased.

I didn’t mention anything about the creature, for I knew that they would kill me right then if they knew. So, I stayed silent about that and they somehow bought it. The idiots let me go and I have bought myself some more time. 

I don’t know how much more time, and I am no where near to a breakthrough but at least I can live another day.

My victory was short lived when I soon realized that my trap hallway had been activated and my skin began to crawl. Who would dare to come into my lab? Was it the others? I should have known from their questioning that someone would sneak into my lab as I was distracted. 

I quickly deactivated the trap corridor and run down it to my lab. I manually opened the door to get into my lab and I noticed the blood on it. There was also scales scattered across the ground, but I noticed it too late. 

Once I opened the door, I heard a growl and something tried to lung at me. 

I barley managed to get the creature sleeping and back into the cage with my life. Sure, I had to use the last bit of that chemical that I had but it was worth it for I am currently covered in scars and my leg is shaking in pain. I know that I will start walking tomorrow with a limp but at least my monster is back where it belong.

The cage is banged up and I am currently fixing it as the creature sleeps. It must be very strong if it can bend metal like that.

From what I have gathered, the creature tried to escape because I have left my lab. It banged up the cage and has slipped through its bars and had ran right for the hallway but had accidently triggered the trap. The creature couldn’t escape through the door because the exit would have closed. Before he could manage to walk back into the lab, some of the pillars got him, leaving behind blood and scales. The creature then ran in here and tried to find another way to escape.

That is why there are claw marks on the backwall. 

I was hardly gone for an hour, yet the backwall had a hole in it that my fist can comfortable fit inside. This wasn’t there this morning. In fact, I thought this wall was completely solid when I left so how was this possible? The Mizuchi must have dug it but how was it able to chip away at solid stone? How strong is this creature?

Examining the dirt underneath the creature’s claws, I cannot help but smiles. I have finally figured out my breakthrough. 

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

I needed to go fishing again today. The creature had become very skinny and refuses to eat and the fish I have caught for him has gone bad.

As I went out to get more food, I have left the cage open and I have activated the trap corridor to see what happens when I return.

 I was pleased with the results and I know what I will be focusing on for my work to make our kingdom stronger. Once I managed to get the creature back in its cage, (I managed to find some more chemicals to make the dragon sleep and I am very lucky for that) I noticed that the hole on the wall was now a tunnel. I crawled into it and my entire body was about to sit inside it. 

I was impressed by this as my hand slowly moved along the tunnel walls. If I could somehow maintain this fine digging skill then we could cut through anything. The dragon was fast too. We can make our mark anyway and our power will be grand. Maybe I could sell this creature so people can have their weapon and I would be rich and have a high status.

But then I heard something at the end of the tunnel and I panicked slightly. I pressed my ear up against the back of the tunnel and could hear shouts and commands on the other side. There was a reason why the creature decided to dig against this wall. The creature must have heard this when it started. This was the quickest way to an exit.

The creature was trying to get into the training area. But I cannot allow that to happen. I can’t. Not after all my hard work while that army has done nothing. If the creature escapes through there, then he will be spotted and killed by the samurai. Or even worst, they would figure out that I have disobeyed their orders and they will punish me somehow. I couldn’t let that happen. 

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

[The entries that follows, shows the process that the researcher goes through in order to try to tame or harness the creature’s abilities. All of these attempts seem to have failed and the researcher gets more and more upset as time passes on. At one entry, it is along impossible to read his handwriting]

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

I have made a grave error. As I was out, gathering water supplies and supplies, I had accidently tripped on my way into the cave and I hit my head severely. I must have passed out because the next thing I was aware of was the fact that I was laying in the comfortable mat that wasn’t my old one.

With bandages wrapped around my head, I quickly looked around and a dizzy spell came over me. Everyone around me told me to rest that I had slipped on the way in and my head started bleeding. Some of the people in the background were laughing and seemed to be teasing me. I was knocked out for most of the day and it was unwise for me to move so much. 

I felt my heart stop for a moment and I quickly stood up. The doctor by my bed tried to push my back down but I pushed away and stepped forward. I demanded that I needed to look at something and I needed to be let go now. When my request wasn’t fulfilled, I pushed him aside and walked out myself. Everyone tried to stop me but I would let them. I needed to check on the lab. I needed to check on the monster.

As I passed the corridor that lead into the training area, I heard some training going inside it before suddenly the ground shook below me. I grabbed hold of the wall next to me as I almost fell to the ground. The was a rumbling overtop me, as the ceiling shook and large rocks fell from the ceiling. The entire room, no, the entire cave system seemed to shake as parts of the corridor to the living quarters crumbled apart.

What was that?

Did the creature cause this? How was this possible?

I quickly ran to my corridor and noticed that the trap was activated. I had to deactivated it and the few minutes, waiting for the hallway to become walkable again was agonizing. But once it was, I ran into the lab. 

What I saw, sent a chill down my spine. The creature was gone again. He had escaped from his cage again. How dare he? I have given him plenty of food and water but this monster keeps on leaving. It keeps on trying to escape and now…

I looked over at the tunnel it was making and my heart stopped. The tunnel has been complete. It was now just a short crawl into the training room where everyone currently was. They would be able to kill it quickly and then I would be punished. That was my fate. Except…

If the monster could break away at solid rock then what strength did it really have? What speed did it have? I was out of chemicals to make it sleep and no one was unaware of its strength so…

Gosh. What have I unleashed in this cave?

How many brutal and painful deaths would befall to all these people here because of me?

I am now shaking and debating on running. I have caused the doom of everyone here. I wasn’t some god among men that I boldly claimed myself to be. I was their doom. I needed to warn everyone right away. It didn’t matter if they killed me. I just needed to-

I just heard a scream.

Gosh. No. It couldn’t be starting already. The monster couldn’t be hurting the people here. I need to stop this now! I am sorry, mother. I will fix this. Hopefully I will return to bring good-

[Before the researcher could finish the line, several large blood stains and ink sloshes covers the rest of the scroll. His research will never be finished] 

Next 

Pervious 

First 

#uncoveringfables #uncovering fables #uncovering fables remake #intermission 1 #part 2 #writing #My writing #writers of tumblr

[kyoswimm]

Kyo talks about character design: Ridley

Ah, Ridley... where do I go with him?

Creepy, violent, sadistic, cruel, cunning, immortal.. so many adjectives for him. Even his clone’s clone still rocks peoples’ socks off with his design. Let’s start with the beginning; his original design from Metroid.

Look at this utter goof! Funky spade on the end of his tail, the ring-shaped mouth, the multiple dot eyes- he seems less threatening and more cuddly! His sprite itself is much more draconic, as is other artwork, but I can’t ignore this little fella. I’d like to see this design cameo someday. Moving on to his next appearance; Super Metroid.

Super Metroid cements Ridley’s status as a spindly, spited dragon of extraterrestrial origin. This design is very important, as it’s the main template for every Ridley design past this! I still have my own problems with it, of course; the neck joints to the chest in an odd fashion, and his legs are always folded up as he’s crouching. Obviously done since it would be harder to joint his legs for when he’s flying all over the place, but it’s odd that his legs are so static.

And here’s one of my favorite looks, Neo-Ridley! The constant movement, the way he moves his claws in a groping pattern, like it’s rehearsing for when it grabs you... I like it so much because it strays slightly from the Ridley formula, while still retaining that gruesome identity. Its head is far more rounded at the end instead of a pterodactyl-like spike. Those small.. orifices? Are they holes, or are they smaller, vegetal wings?... the red stuff just behind his second spike. Neo-Ridley’s chest is covered in spikes, while his limbs are very smooth and rubbery, contrasting how Ridley is just completely covered in hard surfaces. Its legs actually move and writhes as it attacks Aran, which is appreciated. The beak is more angled, something we’ll be seeing more of later... Neo-Ridley aims for Ridley’s more eery, creepy nature, an overall tone of Fusion.

Metroid: Zero Mission replaces the original game in canon, and it brings us one another smooth Ridley! While I do like the look of his design from Zero Mission, it’s far too smooth for my liking. Zero Mission also brings up another question I have; was Ridley green before his first disintegration? I used to think yes, but then there was the Metroid manga. Was he green there? Or was he purple? I don’t know. Not much to say here; his legs don’t move as much as Neo-Ridley’s, which is my major gripe with it.

META RIDLEY... GOOD. Turning Ridley into a cyborg had to be one of the best ideas the series has had. The neon orange energy wings, the small, lower jay replacement, those frankensteined arms and robotic lower body- Ridley has been though hell and back, and he wears the scars proudly. A shame being a cyborg is both a blessing and a curse for him- pesky weak points make everything bad.

Prime 1 Meta Ridley? Good. Prime 3? BETTER. Meta Ridley gets a visual overhaul in the third of the trilogy, and I adore it. It’s so refined compared to his last iteration! An updated body! It’s much more sleek and organic looking, and you can actually see the energy field ripple on his wings. It’s also slightly blue, which hints at his Phazon corruption...

Like Neo-Ridley and the Prime 3 Meta ridley proceeding him, Omega Ridley is far more cobbled together. Much more of his flesh has regenerated thanks to the Phazon, and his wings have become singed and tattered. It’s a rather menacing design, if a bit busy on the eyes- what love about Prime 3 Meta Ridley, but mixed with exposed flesh and wire.

Proteus Ridley is another one of my favorite designs since it bridges the gap of Meta and normal flesh. He’s much more flesh than Omega Ridley, with his tail, left arm, and right leg being the only fully mechanical parts of him left. The use of neon yellow is a cool highlight concept. We don’t see that color often, with good reason, but using it here is just delicious on the eyes. The piece of metal covering his hunchback and the metal neck brace are some of my favorite elements. He’s healing, but not quite fully.

... this is the one design for Ridley i’m not a fan of, honestly. It’s just so.. odd, to me. His proportions are just way off; too thick, too much muscle. The tail is also really weird to me- it just looks like a sword taped on the end, guard and everything? His chest is way too beefy, his beak is way too thin and flat, wings seem too long, and his neck is STRAIGHT. STRAIGHT? Who on god’s earth thought it would be a good idea to give him a straight neck?! Ridley doesn’t do straight, beefy neck. And green eyes? Not a bad choice of color, but where’s the yellow??

And finally, we get to it; the Smash design, one of my favorites. The cracked, dry, armor-like skin with the weak flesh showing in between? A ridged, indented body like some sort of living skeleton? And covered in spikes?? A proper beak?! This, my friends, is quintessential Ridley. It SCREAMS dangerous and aggressive, and is spindly, yet sturdy looking. The massive amounts of spikes on his body is the one good thing Other M supplied. He’s just a walking pile of knives and death! Pretty much exactly what he is.

Who can forget Mecha Ridley, though? Because I sure can’t.

Mecha Ridley, the final boss of Zero Mission, is an incomplete robot made by Ridley in his own image, and tells us exactly what Ridley thinks of himself; the perfect killing machine. Sure, it isn’t quite perfect, as he never finishes it. The way it fights is a result of that, too, relying more on its missile silo than a proper Ridley-like battle. Oh, what could have been! It may or may not being the inspiration for Meta Ridley’s cybernetics aside, robots are always cool to look at. Especially silver, neon green ones this no lower body.

#kyo talks about character design #kyo speaks #metroid #ridley #mecha ridley #meta ridley #omega ridley #proteus ridley #neo-ridley #THAT'S A LOT OF RIDLEY HUH BOYS

[whattaylormademedo]

Please read the latest post on my GoFundMe. This is THE WORST time to need medical care for a progressive and horrid illness.

I am mostly paralyzed for the 4th day in a row now. My hands are working right now and my body hasn’t shut down and knocked me out uncontrollably from the exhaustion of paralyzing, extreme, charlie-horse-like muscle spasms (like it’s been doing Friday, Saturday, and today, Sunday) although I’m still lightheaded from the ceaseless pain. Here is a link and I will transcribe the update my mom wrote:

https://www.gofundme.com/f/HelpMadelineShanley?utm_source=customer&utm_medium=copy_link-tip&utm_campaign=p_cp+share-sheet

Transcription from my Mom:

“Hi Family and Friends,

Madeline’s doctor will no longer be able to come to the house for her appointments because of the Covid-19 coronavirus outbreak. We still have no transportation for her, so she will not be seen until they are able to begin telemedicine sometime in the future. We are hopeful that her nurse will still be able to come to the house to do her lifesaving treatments 2 days every two weeks. We are hopeful that we won’t have disruption in our ability to get this vital IVIG medication for her as well as all of the other medications that she must have. She will not have the needed surgery on her feet that we have been trying to get for her, so we must just try to keep infection at bay until all of this is over. These are the realities that we now must add to our battle.

Madeline is still fighting for her health. Occasionally we have a day when she is able to sit up in bed and stand with much support. But, she is still battling the constant, painful muscle contractions of Stiff Person Syndrome. It is hard for us to wrap our heads around fighting SPS AND going through a pandemic. We are hopeful and we need to keep moving forward.

We don’t know what the future holds. Hopefully, the disruptions to people’s lives will be minimal and focused on trying to keep everyone healthy. Hopefully, you all will be safe and have what you need to care for yourselves and your family. Please think of our family as we battle for Madeline’s life in the realities of a world fighting a new and fast-spreading virus. Please send Madeline any messages of support or kindness. Please consider sharing our story and GoFundMe. We need all the help we can get. Thank you.”

From me: I am trying to hold onto hope, but like in ‘Haunted‘ (which is how I feel now) it feels like “something keeps me holding onto nothing.” If you can, instead please send me messages of hope and encouragement. I don’t have much hope right now. Even PMs would mean a lot. THE MOST HELPFUL THING YOU CAN DO IS DONATE TO MY GOFUNDME. SHARE IT IF YOU CAN’T AFFORD TO DONATE. PLEASE HELP ME AND MY FAMILY TRY TO SAVE MY LIFE.

I’m heartbroken that this might push back the Lover Tour shows, especially Lover Tour East, which was my biggest motivator. It’s nobody’s fault, and I understand it’s dangerous to have a gathering that large during a pandemic like this. It’s just something I’m scared that even if it is rescheduled, I might not have the treatments I need or the resources I’d need to get to those treatments and be alive for them. I know without the treatments, I will rapidly lose my ability to move, speak, or communicate (I’ll still feel the pain, have all my mental faculties, and be fully aware of what’s happening to my body. I’ll likely be blind because my eyelids tend to spasm closed, but sometimes they spasm open and prevents me from sleeping, but I likely won’t have control of my eye muscles anyways. That’s UNLESS I get treatment and have way to get to it).

My GoFundMe, run by my parents, is the bare minimum of my needs. It covers 18 months of medication, costs to purchase and modify a van for wheelchair use, and costs to modify my electric wheelchair so I can use it and get to my treatments when I need to (the electric wheelchair was generously donated by a kind widower whose wife unfortunately passed before she could take it out of the box. Bless her soul and may she be at peace).

The GoFundMe doesn’t cover costs for the secondary needs, like the caregivers I qualify for, programs for my computer to make doctor notes for the one telecommunication visit I’ll have per month with a doctor as I get worse and worse, braces to keep my body from breaking itself, and anything to use as an artistic outlet that I can do with caregiver assistance and my limited mobility (distracting me helps because I watch in horror as life as I knew it has changed in every way possible. In a year and under 3 months, I went from being able-bodied, living on my own in college, and walking to not being able to roll over in my home hospital bed by myself and in constant, agonizingly painful, physically paralyzing, muscle spasms throughout my entire body, that shifts hour by hour. In that same time, I went from expecting the future I worked at since I was 9: being a future CEO, living on my own, working for a company as I grew my own start-up, eventually letting that go off the ground and profiting, now to a future of hoping I survive each month, each treatment, and hoping with what hope I have left to get mobility so I can go to my doctors and treatments someday).

I fear when the ingrown toenails (there are several but there’s two separate ones on the same inner side of my left big toe) grow out and touch each other. It’s inevitable without immediate surgery. They’re less than half a centimeter apart and I don’t know exactly how much that will hurt. It will hurt quite a lot, though, and I won’t get treatment for them for a long time. As TSwift sang in ‘The Archer,’ “the luck of the draw only draws the unlucky.” With a disease as rare as mine, Stiff Person Syndrome (Aka SPS) and in a time like nothing I’ve never known, I sure do feel unlucky.

Without this disease, I’d be out there, buying supplies with the money I earned from the job (that I couldn’t start because of my SPS), driving (which I’ll never be able to do) to people’s doorsteps and delivering necessary food and supplies. I’d risk my life, likely staying in an isolated location to protect my loved ones.

But instead, I have SPS. I’m stuck here in this home hospital bed, paralyzed and in pain. I’m helpless and not able to be helpful. As someone who cares about other people far more than my own self, it’s its own kind of torture to be physically unable to help members of my community.

I hope you all are safe and I beg of you to give me any reason to hope. Any PM, donation to the GoFundMe my parents run for me, or share of that GoFundMe would mean a lot. Thank you for reading. I wish everyone and their loved ones health, happiness, and fulfillment.

💔Madeline

[meetthetank]

Peccatum Chapters 11-13

Sooooo I am booboo the fool and kept forgetting to post the new chapters here when I updated them on Ao3. On that note, enjoy a 3 for 1 mass posting

Ao3 Links: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14454675/chapters/47532154 https://archiveofourown.org/works/14454675/chapters/48310690#workskin https://archiveofourown.org/works/14454675/chapters/49764506#workskin Rating: Mature Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Category: F/M Fandom: NieR: Automata (Video Game) Relationships: 2B/9S (NieR: Automata), A2/A4 (NieR: Automata), Jackass/The Commander (NieR: Automata) Characters: 2B (NieR: Automata), 9S (NieR: Automata), A2 (NieR: Automata), A4 (NieR: Automata), 6O (NieR: Automata), 21O, Jackass (NieR: Automata), The Commander (NieR: Automata) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe, genre typical violence, long fic, Slow Burn, War, Chapter 13 is rated E Language: English 

Chapter 11: Vigo

It’s both a blessing and a curse being surrounded by droves of people. 9S likes the ability to disappear into a crowd, but the more people means the more likely he is to be discovered. At least, marching in line with the other scouts in the midst of the rest of the army, strangers wouldn’t be inspecting him too closely. That being said, he can’t shake the feeling that the eyes of the displaced and terrified citizens of Vigo were staring straight into his soul.

What was once a bustling port city is now a vacant array of buildings surrounded by hundreds of hastily pitched tents and camps. The situation is clearly much worse than White had anticipated, seeing as most if not all of the population camps about a mile away from the actual city and there seem to be no signs of protection or higher authority. They pass by several groups of people who almost swarm the march with their hands out desperately asking for things like food, water, and medicine. As much as the sight hurts 9S to watch, he had to march boldly, ignoring the cries of the suffering.

There’s multiple times where 9S has to scan the crowd. He’s certain he senses the presence of other half-demons here, though with so many in the crowd it’s hard to pick out exactly where they are. For a split second his hopes soar at the possibility that he won’t have to hide as badly here, but the tension and fear that hangs in the air quells that hope as quickly as it rises.

The city itself, vacant as it is, is one of the more opulent ones 9S has visited. Well maintained cobblestone streets, every building decorated with white marble columns contrasted by rich red brickwork and flanked by grand statues of what he assumes to be commissioning senators. He had heard the port town was wealthy, but he supposed he had to see it to believe it. If only he could take the time to actually enjoy the place.

White leads the army through the center of the practically abandoned city towards the barracks belonging to the city guard, right past a structure that chills 9S to the bone. An execution block, complete with gallows, cages, stockades, and other cruel methods of death. The dark wood and the cobblestone around it is stained dark and decorated with graffitied slurs and crude depictions of half-demons. 9S makes sure his glamor charm is hidden away under his coat and tries to not look at the grim sight for too long.

So far the only other people they pass by in Vigo are stubborn vagrants who refuse to abandon their homes, or volunteer soldiers bringing food and what little water they can find to the tent city. White commands the army to halt while she and Jackass enter the sparsely guarded judicial building, however they return with scowls. White snaps at a nearby city guard who sprints away as if he had seen a demon. 9S wonders if the Commander is the highest authority still left in the city…

Without the need to announce their arrival, since there were no authority figures besides White, the army files into the barracks and prepares themselves to settle in for a long time. There was no way to tell when they would be called into battle, so most of the soldiers believed they would be assigned to assist with moving people and ferrying supplies to and from the camps. 9S isn’t sure if he agrees with that, but he didn’t anticipate the cowardice of the ruling class, so at this point, anything could happen.

He also doesn’t expect just how cramped the city’s barracks would be. Everyone regardless of station, with the exception of Commander White herself, are nearly shoulder to shoulder as they unpack and claim beds. The scouts all congregate at the back of the bunk room, and though the tension between 9S and 801S is still palpable, they both help each other and the rest of the scouts get situated in their small spaces. 9S wonders if he should apologize for how he acted a few days back, after all, 801S was in the right. Wandering away from the group was incredibly dangerous, even if it really wasn’t his fault.

“Hey...Nines?” 32S quietly says to him once most of the others are sprawled out on their beds for a moment of rest.

“Hm? Everything okay?”

32S fidgets with a simple charm on his bracelet, “Yeah, um… Did you see-”

“The town center? Yeah…” a grim look crosses 9S’ face.

“I didn’t know Vigo was so dangerous to...us.”

“I didn’t either. According to 42S’ report, it seemed more tolerant than most towns…”

“What changed?”

“Demon attacks,” 801S muttered, shuffling past the two, “I’d imagine between regular demon sieges and whatever the thing in the bay is only fueled tensions.”

“Oh…” 32S’ head drops, “Right.”

801S sighs and places a hand on his companion’s shoulder, “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine if you just stick with the squad. Not even an angry mob would dare attack a group of uniformed soldiers.”

9S jabs 801S in the side, perhaps a little too roughly, “Ssh. Not so loud.”

He almost snaps at 9S but shuts up once he sees the small troop of city guards and Republic soldiers shuffle through the crowd of White’s soldiers. One gives the scouts an odd look before continuing onward.

“Odds are they’ve got orders to apprehend anyone they suspect of being half breeds,” 9S whispers, “If they hear any of us it won’t matter what army we’re a part of and it would get the Commander in serious trouble.”

“Why don’t you get 2B to protect you.” says 801S with a scowl.

9S is about to snap back at him, but Jackass looming just a few beds down forces him to keep quiet. For now at least.

“Okay boys listen up,” she grumbles in a low tone, just barely loud enough for the scouts to hear, “White and I suspect something’s wrong. No Senator, no Mayor, no Councilors, not even a Merchant Lord. You lot and I are gonna do some snooping around the camps, see if any of the civilians know what’s going on. Be geared up and at the front of the barracks in an hour.”

The moment Jackass is out of earshot, the scouts let out a collective groan.

“I know it isn’t a Senator’s estate, but it’ll be a lot more comfortable than the barracks,” 6O says with a playful wink.

2B stands awkwardly in the small bedroom that her friend had rented at a steep discount through a mix of feminine charms and a flash of military affiliation. A free place to stay required her to be an official part of White’s army after all.

“All this is...for me?” she asks.

“Yep! Well, at least until we move out again. After that either you stick with us or you pay on your own.”

“Thank you,” 2B bows her head to her friend, “What do I owe you in repayment?”

“Nothing, you dumb chicken!” 6O jabs her in the rib lightly, “This is me repaying you for that stunt you got me out of during the Equinox Festival?”

“If I hadn’t covered for that mess you made with the Elder’s granddaughter and that botched wedding you would have been eaten alive. Literally.”

“I know! That’s why I’m repaying you! Besides, that innkeeper would do anything for a pretty lady.”

“Oh really?” she crosses her arms across her chest and allows for a coy smirk, “Do you know any?”

“Hey watch it, Featherbrain, I can still let you sleep in the streets.”

2B puts her hands up defensively, “I kid, I kid. Though all this does seem a bit...unnecessary. I hope that doesn’t sound ungrateful.”

“Huh? Why, are you planning on exploring the city?” a smirk of her own plays across 6O’s lips, “Ooor….are you planning on fooling around with a certain scout? Hmm?”

“Yes.”

“Oh,” 6O is taken aback by her honesty and bluntness, “...You two are really hitting it off, huh?”

2B nods, “He’s interesting and…” she shakes her to let the downy feathers beneath her hair settle before they puff out too much, “...Cute.”

“Interesting and cute, huh? Is that all it takes to win the heart of a Coatyl?”

“Please,” 2B huffs, “I’m not that easy to woo. But…”

“Buuuut….?”

“I was thinking about...um,” she turns away and tries to smooth down her hair, “...Going out to find a...stone.”

6O gasps and bounces on her heels with barely contained excitement, “Are you serious?! Oh, 2B!! When are you gonna give it to him?! You have to tell me! As your best friend and self-appointed emotional guardian, I have a right to know!”

“I don’t know. I have to find one first…”

“You come to me the moment you do! Promise?!”

“I promise, 6O.”

In hindsight, it probably would have been safer for 9S to stick with the other scouts while investigating the refugee camps, but he needed to get away from 801S and his constant jabs at his closeness to 2B. Every single time he thinks about maybe apologizing, that guy always ends up pushing back. It’s like he has mind-reading powers or something. It all just makes 9S’ blood boil.

Just thinking about 2B makes his head spin. It’s such a bizarre situation he never thought he’d find himself in, and there’s no easy solution to it. Cutting her loose wouldn’t work, she wouldn’t leave the only real lead to her sibling. That and 9S gets the feeling she’s become...attached to him, which is a whole other wheelbarrow of manure for him to sift through and possibly the reason for all the conflict between him and the other scouts.

He’d be an idiot if he denied having feelings for her. She’s strong, mysterious, and sweet beneath the abrasive personality. There were glimmers of genuine kindness that every time he gets a peek, he wants to see more and more…

God, he’s got it bad for her.

Stupid lousy goddamn sexy dragoness…

Then there was the whole issue of his bloodline and the danger that put him and 2B in, which is just...Great.

At least he could lose himself in his work. A good puzzle always kept his mind off of distressing things.

9S spends an hour or so mingling with those civilians that were involved in higher government before it all disappeared. Most declined to speak at first, but nothing a bit of wine couldn’t fix seeing as how luxuries were hard to come by. According to one tax collector, the Senator had fled the town the moment the demon first surfaced, and his assistants soon after. One by one the mayor, councilors, even treasurers secured passage out of Vigo before any of the civilians knew what was happening. Of course, 9S shouldn’t be surprised at this, but it still makes him sick to his stomach that they would just leave their people to die like this? Maybe growing up with authority figures like White, Jackass, and his mother made him less tolerant of this sort of behavior.

The last real authority figure still lingering around is an old wharfmaster, who shut down all ship traffic in the harbor after the second demon sighting. He’s much more forthcoming with information than the others, telling 9S about how shutting the harbor down was a very unpopular decision. With demon attacks on the rise, many civilians from all over flocked to the port city for passage to the blessed grounds of the Theocracy. Even with a massive mystery demon in the bay the water is still the safest option, with the other two being a vast desert and an even larger primordial bog, both filled with creatures far worse than whatever was lurking in the depths.

Unfortunately, that’s the extent of what he’s able to learn. No one seems to know where the nobles went or how long they planned on staying away. Their houses and most of their belongings were left behind and promptly ransacked once word spread, though 9S doubts if anything terribly valuable was taken.

He begins making his way back to the barracks to compile his report when he runs into his mother and the other supply wagons. On either side of the caravan are several city guards that escort them through the camps and into the city proper. 21O leads the horses pulling the raven wagon and gives a brief wave to 9S as she passes by. He sprints up to her while shoving his notebook into his satchel.

“Hey, what took you guys so long?” he says after catching his breath.

“Customs officers needed to inspect the wagons before letting us into the city.”

“Really?”

21O gives him an odd look, “Is that so hard to believe? It’s a large city important to the Republic.”

“Well, the city government is all but gone aside from a few tax collectors and a wharfmaster. Everyone else fled after the first sighting.”

She sighs, “We should have expected this.”

“At least we don’t have to pander to some stuffy aristocrat while we’re here, right?”

“In a sense, yes, but there is a good chance that those stuffy aristocrats will be sending messengers to make sure we adhere to their rules.”

“Yeah, yeah…” 9S grumbles.

“One affirmation is enough.”

“Fiiiiine.”

9S hops onto the wagon so he can finish getting all of his notes for his report written down, stopping occasionally to calm the squawking birds. It isn’t long before city hall comes into view, as well as an ornate carriage. Two nearly identical white haired men walk with White and Jackass. Something about the two of them gives 9S a...strange feeling.

“Who are they?” he asks.

21O stares at the two men for a much longer time than 9S thought necessary, “...I don’t know. They could be envoys.”

“Well,” mutters 9S, “...I have to turn my report into Jack-...The Lieutenant.” he hops off the wagon just as it passes the city hall.

“You’re not going to eavesdrop on the commander again, are you?” his mother chastises, “Remember how long you were stuck on latrine duty the last time they caught you?”

“I’m gonna catch her before their meeting, don’t worry.” he groans, but a smirk crosses his face just as 21O gets out of earshot, “...And I won’t get caught this time.”

Slipping into the city hall is easy enough. 9S is small enough his footsteps barely make a sound even on marble floors, and there’s plenty of statues, columns, and furniture of obscure him from view. The real problem is finding which of the hundreds of offices and council chambers his superior officers are using. Door after door of empty rooms, storage closets, and baffling fake doors, he finally hears the muffled grumbling of Jackass.

“...is why they had to send the two of you. Why not meet us personally.”

9S crouches near the door and eases it open just a tad so he can hear better.

“Again,” the man with long white hair says, his voice smooth and almost velvet like, “We apologize that the Senator could not be here to meet you and your army in person, but he does send his thanks for coming to his city’s aid.”

“I see,” White says, tapping her chin.

“Now, the reason for our visit,” he motions to what appears to be his twin, a man with short wild white hair, to lay a series of parchments in front of White and Jackass, “The Senator and the city councilors have compiled their plans for evacuating civilians.”

“And enlisting a Theocratic battalion is part of these evacuations?” Jackass snaps and gestures to the packet in her hands.

“Yes,” the long haired man remains calm, “They are the most effective legion to dispose of the demonic threat, and seeing as your troops are not prepared to handle an evacuation or the demon in the harbor-”

White holds up her hand, “Incorrect. My lieutenant has been devising a countermeasure of our own for some time. As for the civilians, our troops are more than capable of handling evacuations.”

The long haired man is silent for a moment while his short haired companion childishly slumps over the table, “...Very well. Under your discretion we will leave the tasks outlined in these documents to you and your army. I am...curious of this...countermeasure you mentioned. Would it be enough to eliminate the demon in the water?”

Jackass produces some documents of her own and arranges them on the table. Oh how 9S’ wishes he could see them.

“It requires two ships to carry it, but there’s enough power in cannon to level a small city. Unless this demon is immune to half a ton of solid metal flying at it at about ...three hundred miles per hour, we’re fine.”

“This contraption is...experimental, yes?”

Jackass tenses up, “Yes, but I’ve overseen every part of its design. It will work.”

He nods, “Very well. If the beast surfaces again we will prepare your...cannon. The Senator’s provisions and supplies are at your disposal.”

White bows, “Thank you. We will begin preparations for the evacuations immediately.”

The two white haired men return the bow and turn to the door. For the briefest of moments, the one with long hair locks eyes with 9S and an unnatural chill runs through his body. He’s frozen in place by the man’s hypnotic red eyes, and 9S swears he smiles at him. As they move towards him, 9S scrambles away as quickly and as quietly as he can. They don’t shout or follow or chase after, they just leave.

When they pass by him, that same chill makes 9S shudder and the hideous whispering of the girls in red begin to creep into his mind. The long haired man smirks idly as he stares in his general direction.

His inhuman, red eyes bore into 9S’ soul...

Chapter 12: Cherry Boy

With little over a week and no sign of the strange demon in the bay, 9S beings to wonder if maybe this is all just a big hoax. Perhaps the Senator and Councilors fabricated this all as a ploy to interrupt the mass evacuation, or simply to have a stronger military presence at their disposal. He’s sure that Commander White and Jackass are suspicious as well, considering they waste no time putting him and the other scouts to work. It’s mostly busy work and assisting the refugees on the outskirts of the city, but there are a number of times where they have the ulterior motive of watching Adam and Eve, the twin messengers of the Senator.

Simply looking at the twins sends shivers down his spine. Their eyes, demeanor, stark white hair, even the way they speak sets off something within him. Not to mention the fact that whenever they’re nearby, he hears the nauseating whispers of...whatever those girls in red are. He knows they’re demons, but he’s not sure which kind or if they’re full blooded or not.

Of course, 9S told Jackass of his suspicions, which were met with solemn nods and promises of “working on it”. As much as it frustrates him that there isn’t immediate action, it is a delicate situation. Those twins hold themselves in a position of power over the entire army, one false move and White would end up in a mess of trouble. Jackass needs irrefutable proof that those two aren’t human to make a proper case against them.

However, there’s only so much he can do in one day.

His entire morning and afternoon is spent assisting his mother with care of the ravens and sorting incoming mail, as well as keeping tabs on the twin messengers under the guise of simple errands for the wharfmaster. With the added bonus of 801S being assigned to assist, 9S pushes himself and 801S to complete all of their tasks as quickly as possible. Luckily, 801S agrees with him, albeit sullenly.

9S sighs to himself as he walks with 801S. Their little feud has been going on for quite some time, and frankly the whole thing exhausts him.

“Hey...801S?” he begins.

“Yeah?”

He sounds genuine at least, that’s a good sign, “I...Look I know I’ve been a jerk to you and the others recently.”

801S says nothing, but regards his friend with wary but patient eyes.

“I just wanted to apologize for how I’ve been acting recently. We’re supposed to be a team, but I’ve just been thinking of myself.”

Again, 801S says nothing for a long time, only staring at 9S while he frets with the hem of his sleeve.

“...I can hardly blame you. She is very pretty,” he says finally, a small grin creeping on his face.

9S’ face flushes red, “Y-...She is. But that doesn’t excuse the way I’ve treated everyone.”

He shrugs, “By this point it’s just me who’s still holding a grudge. But...Maybe I’m still bitter.”

“About?”

“You know…” 801S gives his friend a sad look and a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Oh...Yeah. Listen, I know that we didn’t, um...work well as a couple, but you’re still my friend. No matter what.”

“I know that it’s just...It makes me feel weird seeing you go after someone else, especially a woman. I know I don’t have any right to feel that way but that’s the truth.”

9S rubs the back of his neck, “Yeah…”

“I owe you an apology as much as you do. So...I’m sorry for being such a jealous dunce.”

9S laughs a bit, “We really are a mess aren’t we.”

“No, just you. Mr. I’m gonna fall for a dragoness.”

“W- Wait hang on!” he sputters, “I did not fall for her!”

“Oh really?” 801S teases, and for the first time in a while, his coy smirk appears, “Then once we get back to the barracks, where were you gonna go?”

“N-None of your business!”

9S self-consciously pulls his scarf over his face and dashes away, leaving behind a laughing 801S.

“Good luck, moron!”

2B sits on 6O’s bed, legs folded beneath her. She turns a smooth, blue-ish pebble over and over in her hand while 6O combs her thin fingers through the downy undercoat of 2B’s hair.

“Soooo...Is this the one?” 6O asks, twisting a few strands into a loose braid.

“I think so, the sheen and color of this stone is much better.”

“When are you gonna give it to him?”

2B hums in thought, “I’m not sure, there isn’t very often where the two of us are alone…Perhaps I’ll ask him if he wants to go on a walk?”

“That might work, but…” she mutters, “Sorry, Toobie, but I can’t help but wonder what would happen if he doesn’t accept?”

“Well, it wouldn’t change much really,” 2B responds, “It’s merely a statement of intention.”

“You can say that all you like, but you and I both know what the common meaning of one of those stones is.”

She huffs and attempts to smooth down her hair before it becomes too fluffed up, “Hush.”

6O giggles and returns her attention to the simple pattern of plaits and braids she’s weaving through her friend’s hair. Through some of the braiding she places small colorful flowers. Some purple and blue, others bright red like drops of blood.

“Still, I can’t help but think the meaning and symbolism might be lost on him. He’s never had exposure to Coatyl culture beyond what you’ve explained to him.”

2B can’t help but agree. Without knowledge of what this stone means, it’s just a simple rock. She turns it in her hands, running her thumb over the smooth peaks and troughs of the little blue stone.

“...I’m still going to do it.”

“I know,” 6O says with a giggle, “I know better than to try and stop you once you’ve made up your mind. Oh, but you...Um, has your uh ...time, passed?” she mumbles, fidgeting with a small, hair-like feather.

“Yes, my yearly heat ended several months ago.”

6O lets out an audible sigh of relief which earns her a pointed glare from 2B, “Oh quiet, I’m allowed to fret.”

“I am not some wanton teenager. I know what I’m doing.”

“You could have fooled me.” 6O teases.

“Listen-”

Just as 2B is about to scold her dearest friend for her overbearing behavior, she spots 9S waving from just down the hall. Hastily, she stuffs the stone in one of her pockets before he gets too close.

“Speak of the devil and he shall appear!” 6O greets as 9S lets out an annoyed groan.

“Ha ha,” he says with a deadpan tone, “I’ve never heard that one a million times.”

2B shuffles slightly as she waves to 9S, who plops down on the bed next to her.

“Wow, your hair looks really pretty with all these flowers in it!” he says while running the tips of his fingers along one of her braids, “Like a...like a snow field with little flowers poking out of it.” He knows his face is bright red, but he doesn’t feel the telltale flutters of his heart or shaking of his hands. He just smiles and runs his fingers over the patterns of braids and flowers.

6O snickers and teases him for being a budding poet, but 2B can’t help but notice how her heart skips a beat.

“Thank you…”

“Aww,” 6O coos, “Look, when she gets flustered her hair gets all poofy. Like an angry bird!”

2B shoves her friend playfully as 9S giggles next to her. Suddenly the stone in her pocket feels twice as heavy, “Ahem...Anyway, 9S, what are you doing here? I thought you were loaded with tasks?”

“Ugh, yeah,” he groans, “But 801S and I managed to finish everything more quickly than I thought, so now I have the rest of the day to myself.”

“Ooo,” 6O says, leaning in close to the two of them, “What are you gonna do with all your free time?”

“Um,” 9S looks to the floor, his face suddenly heating up, “Well, 2B, if you’re also free, I was thinking maybe we could explore the city? It’s really quiet since everyone is trying to leave. Usually places like this are swarming with tons of people all the time. It can get pretty overwhelming.”

2B and 6O exchange glances with each other. 6O sports a wide grin and excited eyes, while 2B’s face remains as neutral as ever, aside from the slight shifting of the flowers in her hair.

“Sure,” says 2B, “I’ve never been to a human city before, at least not one as big as this. I’d appreciate a tour.”

“Great!” 9S nearly bounces to his feet, taking 2B’s hand in his and pulling her up as well, “I’ll meet you out front in a few minutes! I’m gonna change out of my uniform!”

Before 2B can respond he’s already out the door, his excited footsteps echoing through the barracks. She feels her heart flutter like the wings of a fledgling and thinks herself rather silly.

6O leans close to her, a wicked grin spreading across her face, “Soooo….”

“Hush.”

“Come on Two Beeeeee! This is the perfect opportunity!”

“Hush.”

She grabs 2B’s shoulders and rocks them back and forth, “You gotta!! 2B you have to!”

“Hush,” 2B shuffles herself away from 6O and rises to her feet. She lifts her scabbard and slings the strap across her shoulders, then makes her way towards the barrack’s exit, “....Maybe I will. Depending on how things go.”

The excited shouting of 6O is the last thing 2B hears before she shuts the door behind her.

Even 2B, someone who had never set foot in a city this size, couldn’t help but feel unnerved by the vacant streets and silent buildings. The comparisons to a forest of stone trees were not lost on her. A forest with no life in it whatsoever, aside from the handful of stubborn folks who seem determined to die in the place they were born. Such devotion to their homeland sends a pang of guilt through her heart, and reminds her of where she can never return to…

Yet those melancholy thoughts are quickly swept away by 9S’ enthusiasm. He gleefully leads her through the maze of streets and buildings, plazas and squares, pointing out the unique history of each statue or piece of architecture. While his wealth of knowledge is staggering, 2B finds herself more interested in feeling the different wind currents shift and waver, and imagining how to successfully fly on such currents. Even though she isn’t exactly listening to him, 9S’ cheerful chattering does make her feel more at ease in this foreign and claustrophobic environment.

Even the local fauna seem to have fled, aside from the street cats that peek out from their hiding places to watch 9S. One skinny orange cat even follows them for a few blocks, its tail held high the entire time. A low growl from 2B sends it scurrying away.

“Aw...that one was cute,” 9S pouts.

2B huffs, “Don’t like cats.”

“How come?” he asks, pacing a bit in front of her.

“Back in my homeland, we had to always be on guard for shadowcats. They make your...what are they called,” she mutters, “Lions? Yes, lions. They make lions look like harmless kittens.”

“Okay...that’s terrifying,” 9S muses and falling back in step besides 2B.

“Quite. They are far too silent for something as large as they are.”

9S shudders at the image his mind conjures of predators the size of the buildings that surround them, lurking just out of sight. Desperate to change the subject, he grabs hold of 2B’s hand and pulls her forward with a nervous grin plastered on his face.

“Come on, let’s find something to eat! There’s bound to be someone still running a stand or two around here. What are you in the mood for?”

The existence of a choice catches her off guard, “Hm…”

“We could see if there’s someone making sweetbreads! Or something hearty and warm, like soup or meat pies!” his eyes light up at the thought of these foods, but suddenly his face falls, “Oh...wait I don’t have a whole lot of money right now…”

The last thing 2B wants is to quash his enthusiasm, but she doubts that anyone with something to live for would be anywhere near this town. In fact the only humans she’s seen in the city besides those affiliated with White’s army were a small group of vagrants idlying by a run down pier. They huddle around a small fire surrounded by shields, which protect it from the salty wind blowing off of the water.

She stops suddenly as an idea comes to her.

“Hm? What’s wrong, 2B?”

“Why not go to the harbor?” she asks, pointing towards the pier, “It is free food, after all.”

While she does have a point 9S can’t help but remember the state he found her the first time they met. Floundering around like a crippled seagull, barely able to keep her head above water. Looking back on it now, he'd consider it funny if it wasn’t a threat to her life, and even then it was still pretty funny. Still, he would rather not have to dive into the murky, possibly demon infested waters of the harbor to rescue her once again.

“Alright,” 9S says, “But only if you let me teach you how us weak humans fish. You know, without almost drowning.”

“Hmph.” 2B crosses her arms over her chest and scowls at him, “The techniques of my people have been honed for millenia. Do not insult the proud dragon species.”

He holds back a laugh, “Only if you promise not to make me jump in the water after you.”

A low growl is the only response he gets, which only serves to make him smile more. She really is cute when she’s flustered.

2B doesn’t agree to his proposal out right, but she does follow behind him while he looks through the abandoned merchant stalls for loose equipment. Most if not all of the stands are void of anything useful, whether it was packed up when the owner left or picked clean by vagrants was impossible to tell, but there were a handful that still contained hidden treasures.

9S wasn’t about to expect to find a full fishing set and box of tackle, but he did find a worn rod and a spool of wire. In another he found an old box of hardtack and cheese. Not as ideal a bait as worms or insects, but it would do in a pinch. 2B just stares, bewildered by the seemingly random tools he collects, but makes no comment. She only watches him with those bright, curious eyes. He can’t help but smile at her.

“Come on, let’s go find a good spot,” he says, nodding his head towards the bay, “Or-...Hey can you pick out where there’s the most fish?”

With a nod, 2B wanders over to the edge of the dock and peers into the water. She stands there, unmoving and silent aside from the occasional turn of her head. Sometimes she prowls across the edge, stalking some unseen movement. Unable to contain his curiosity, 9S leans over, dangerously close to the water, to get a look at her face and what she’s looking at. Her eyes, wide and darkend, dart across the surface. It’s mesmerizing to watch her, so mesmerizing that when she suddenly turns to speak to him, he nearly jumps out of his skin and loses his balance.

“This spot seems to be a spawning ground,” 2B says, fixing her hair, “There are plentiful fish here.”

“R-..right. Okay,” he inwardly curses how easy it is to get him to blush, as he can already feel his face heating up, “Here, lemme show you how to bait the line.”

Careful not to stab his fingers, 9S hooks a piece of cheese onto the end of the line, “You want the barb at the end to be poking through enough so that it hooks into the fish’s mouth when it tries to get the bait, but not so much that it can just take it without hooking themselves.”

2B’s brow furrows as he casts the line into the harbor and sits on the edge, his feet dangling above the water, “Now what?”

“Now we wait for a fish to bite. Once you feel the line start to tug and pull away, you reel it in. That’s really all there is to it.”

“Seems...Boring,” she says, yet sits beside him anyway.

“That depends on how hungry the fish are,” he answers, “If they are, we should have a bite within-...!”

As if on cue, the rod dips into the water, then whatever is on the other end nearly rips it from 9S’ hands. With a quick yelp, he grabs hold of the fishing rod and yanks backward with all of his might. Something small breaks the surface of the water and with practiced movements, 9S reels in a fish about the size of his hand.

“See? Easy!” He holds up the wriggling fish to 2B with a bright smile, “You wanna give it a shot?”

2B eyes the fish, “...What are you going to do with that?”

“Oh, usually I toss them back. Why?” he asks, working the hook out of the fish’s mouth.

The moment the fish is free, 2B snatches it away with a lightning quick swipe of her clawed hand.

“I’m hungry,” she says and bites the head clean off of its body.

“Urgh…,” 9S fights back the nauseous churning of his gut, “Fine, but if you want to eat more you have to catch your own.”

She swallows the still-thrashing tail in one gulp, “...Okay, deal.”

9S hands her the rod and some bait then takes a step back. Just in case. She fumbles with the hook and ends up stabbing her fingers more than once before the bit of bread is through the barb. It’s worth the sideways glares he gets from her to laugh at her stubbornness.

“Need any help?” he teases.

She lets out a growl before tossing the line into the harbor and kneeling down next to him, “Quiet.”

Watching 2B fish is far from the relaxing and meditative activity 9S expects it to be. It’s more akin to watching a hawk stalk its prey from its perch. Each movement of the fish swimming just out of his sight, each ripple of the water is something 2B can decipher and track with precision he could only dream of. Her shoulders tense each time the line moves, whether by the currents or by a curious fish. She looks so poised he’s half worried that she might leap into the water at any given moment.

A few of the civilians who chose to stay in the city wander over to watch this strange woman in strange robes fish in her bizarre manner. 2B doesn’t seem to notice, as her concentration is locked solely on the water and what lies beneath.

“Try moving the rod a little. Fish tend to like things that move like prey,” he whispers directly in her ear so as not to disturb her too much.

The very tip of the rod dips once, twice, then in a flash of movement too fast for 9S to even see 2B leaps back and rips a large trout out of the water with a magnificent splash. The civilians cheer as the fish struggles against the rod and 2B’s strength, floundering on the ground pathetically. She grins at her catch, flashing the pointed teeth of a predator. 9S can’t help but feel...something...as she bites into its flesh and severs its spine clean in half. Not fear, at least not entirely fear. Awe perhaps? Whatever the feeling is, it certainly makes his stomach do strange flips and his heart beat just a bit faster.

The civilians disperse quickly amidst worried murmuring and fearful stares. Some part of 9S feels as though he should be offended, but then again, as he glances at 2B eating a live fish nearly whole he can see why strangers would flee from her. After all, he almost did.

But he knows she is not some monster, despite her outward appearance and current actions. She is kind, gentle, and strong beyond compare. She is a peerless warrior, and someone he considers to be a dear friend. He…

“I…” 2B’s voice jolts 9S out of his thoughts, “I would offer to share, but…” she looks down at the remains of the trout in her hands, “Well, you said before humans can’t eat raw meats.”

“Well, not often. But I hear there are some places that think it’s a delicacy.”

Her eyes widen a bit and she tilts her head to the side in the way that makes 9S’ heart skip, “Really?”

“Mhm,” he says as he takes the fishing rod and casts it into the harbor, “Even just on our continent, there’s a lot of kinds of food specific to one area. Like on the border of the Theocracy and the Great Bog they make this special kind of sweet bread with honey that supposedly tastes like angel tears.”

“I’m not sure I see the point in all this...variation.” 2B admits after tossing the scraps of inedible fish back into the water.

9S gives her a quizzical look, “Do Coatlys not have different ways of preparing meals? Like different mixes of spices?”

“Preparing food seems to be a…human practice. We simply hunt prey or gather plants from the forest, clean, dress, and give thanks. That’s it.”

He chuckles, “I guess you must think all the effort humans put into cooking pretty silly, huh?”

“Hardly,” 2B says, shaking her head, “It’s....interesting. I’d like for you to cook for me sometime, should the occasion arise.”

9S’ face lights up like the sun, “Really?! I know tons of recipes from all over! Maybe once we’re done here, I’ll be able to go on leave for a bit, then we can try all kinds of new foods together!”

2B folds her hands into her pockets and fumbles with something unseen by 9S, “I’d like that, I think.”

Though the conversation ends, 9S finds himself enjoying their silence. More often than not he feels a bit awkward if there’s little to no banter, but this is...comfortable. He doesn’t feel the need to speak to 2B for her to know he’s enjoying her company. And the soft smile on her lips lets him know that she feels the same.

They fish together in silence, passing the rod back and forth every so often, 2B eating whatever fish looks the tastiest to her, until the sun begins to set.

“It’s gonna be dark soon, we should start heading-...” 9S begins, but as he stands up he cuts himself short, “Oh! I just remembered something!”

“Hm?” 2B hums, standing up with him.

“While I was helping the refugees earlier, I happened upon a traveling merchant who was selling something I’ve never tried before. Want to come with me?”

2B barely has the chance to nod before he grabs her hand and starts pulling her along. They jog together through the empty streets, and though she is more than capable of keeping pace beside him, 9S does not let go of her hand.

She thinks she doesn’t want him to.

It isn’t long before the sprawling complex of tents comes into view, just past the unkempt walls of Vigo. Many civilians are settling in for the night, but many more are huddled around small fires chatting with one another. The air is tense, apprehensive, but not as much as when they first arrived. 2B wrinkles her nose at the sharp scent of alcohol that hangs around certain groups, but 9S seems too focused on his destination to notice.

“Oh, good!” he says and points towards a man in holy vestments casting a blue hued spell, “He’s still here!”

A strange scent hangs in the air around this holy man. Sweet and fruity, it reminds 2B of a tree bearing bountiful fruits, but the chill in the air makes her scales itch. She watches as the holy man stir several large pots of what looks like cream while casting that chilling magic and pouring a bowl of fruit paste into the mixtures.

“Ah, the young soldier from earlier!” the holy man greets 9S as they approach, “And who is this? Another soldier?”

“Hello again!” 9S replies and waves, “No, this is my friend 2B. I convinced her to try your...cold cream?”

“Iced cream,” he says with a chuckle.

“Iced cream. I convinced her to try some with me.”

2B doesn’t speak, but nods and eyes the priest warrily.

“No need to be so wary, young one. This treat is a favorite among even the folks of the northern Theocracy,” the holy man smiles warmly at her, “Now, what flavor would you two like?”

“Flavor?” 9S blinks for a moment, “Is that what that fruit was for?”

“Exactly, my boy. I have strawberries, caramel, elderberries, cherries, dragonfruit-...”

“Cherry!” 9S yelps, then immediately shrinks down sheepishly, “Er, cherry please.”

“Of course. And for you, miss?”

2B looks back and forth between the priest and 9S, eyes wide with confusion, “Um...I don’t know. These are all new to-”

“Caramel for her. Can you put a bit of salt in it as well? She’s not a fan of too sweet food,” 9S says, stepping in front of her a bit.

A short huff comes from 2B, but her irritation is quelled by 9S simply placing his hand on hers. She makes a mental note to snap at him later for speaking for her.

“Of course of course. It will be just a moment, now.”

9S places some gold coins into a little pan of collections sitting just in front of the priest and steps back to watch his process. With one hand he stirs the thickening mixture of milk, sugar, and respective flavorings, and with another he sprinkles in a bit of salt. He casts a basic ice spell at the base of the jug till the cream becomes so thick that he must use both hands to stir. Once satisfied with the product, the holy man uses the stirring spoon to fill two simple ceramic bowls with the different flavors requested.

“There you go, enjoy you two!”

“Thank you very much,” 9S says, taking the bowls from the priest and handing 2B hers, “Come on, let’s eat on the way back.”

2B stares at the bowl as she follows after him. The cold of this frozen cream bites into the thin scales of her hands, and the scent it gives off is unlike anything she had smelled before. It’s not entirely unpleasant, just strange to her. She dares to lick it, if only a bit, and gasps loud enough to startle 9S.

“You okay? Too cold?” he asks.

She shakes her head, “No...It’s-...” her brow furrows, “I don’t understand.”

“Huh? What don’t you get?”

“How does this golden sugar taste different from the white sugar?”

9S can’t help but laugh, “It’s caramel. Boiling the sugar with water and then letting it cool changes the way it tastes.”

“How? What kind of spell is that?”

“It’s not a spell,” he swallows a small mouthful of his reddish ice cream, “Just chemistry. Though in a way, it is kind of like magic.”

“Strange…” 2B mutters, and licks at the ice cream some more.

“Indeed,” 9S says with a small giggle, “Oh, hey 32S told me about a side entrance that puts us closer to the barracks than going through the main gate. It takes us through the woods for a bit but with the two of us we should be okay.”

“Why were you worried in the first place?”

“Well there’s wolves, bears, and demons of course.” he grumbles, “Remember, I’m not as strong as you.”

“Yes, but I’m the most dangerous thing here. Aside from whatever’s in the water.”

“Oh hush, and just follow me.”

True to his word, 9S leads her through the thick forest that sprawls along the eastern side of Vigo’s walls. A small, untended road winds through the trees but patches of vegetation grow over segments of the glorified dirt path. Without a sign of human activity along with the fading light, 9S feels safe enough near 2B to deactivate his concealing spell. He taps the jewel in his pendant twice and the air around him shimmers briefly. Little stubby horns emerge from his forehead and a thin barbed tail whips sways back and forth with his stride. He feels 2B’s eyes on him, but when he turns to meet her gaze there’s no fear or malice in her eyes. He...isn’t sure what emotion he sees in her dark eyes but it makes his chest feel warm.

9S smiles and holds up his bowl of ice cream, “Hey, 2B. Check out what I can do.”

2B tilts her head. She isn’t sure what to expect from him anymore. He’s surprised her at nearly every turn. She prepares for him to toss the bowl in the air, or spin it on the tip of his tail.

No amount of preparation could save her from the shock of watching a long, pointed tongue unfurl from his mouth and lap up the frozen treat.

Her whole body simultaneously feels frozen, and unbearably hot at the same time. Either he has no idea what he’s doing to her, or he knows very, very well. His tongue coils around the ice cream like a serpent, bending and twisting and writhing in ways that make 2B’s mind conjure all manner of sinful acts.

Resolve shattered and stone burning in her pocket, she can’t fight the words that rise in her throat like acid.

“I want that inside me.”

9S stops. Everything stops. He’s fairly certain his heart stops beating too.

Did she...say…

Heat and pressure coil in his gut and suddenly his pants feel very tight. Panic and shame mix together in a horrid slurry, tearing at his insides with such fervor that he almost doubles over. He has to get out of here. He has to find a way out right now...

“I…” 9S stammers, “I have to go take care of something.”

Chapter 13: A Minor Distraction This chapter is Rated E

2B comes to the conclusion that humans are stupid.

Well, not stupid. 9S is far too intelligent for her to consider truly stupid. Rather, he seems so bound by human expectations and conventions that he acts as if he is stupid. 2B knows full well what he’s run off to “take care of”. Anyone with a functioning mind could figure that out. What she can’t figure out is why.

They are both attracted to each other in a sexual manner, why draw out this period of tension? Why not simply get it over with? He can’t enjoy this, can he?

She leans against a tree, mulling over her own frustrations. Yes, perhaps she was a bit too blunt with him and yes perhaps she forgot to present him with the stone, but if his current behavior is anything to go by it would have lead to the same conclusion.

Something 6O told her years ago comes back into her mind, something about how humans had strange rituals and societal limitations around sexual relations. The details escape her, but even the vague idea is enough to cause her frustration. Sure her own culture has its own behavior and conventions but those existed for mated pairs, not for casual sexual encounters.

She lets out a huff and smooths back her ruffled hair. It’s foolish of her to get so worked up over this. It should have been obvious to her from the start. 9S has demonic blood in him, and incubus blood at that.

A pang of guilt hits her like an arrowhead. Yes, his incubus heritage has...unfortunate connotations to it if she remembers correctly. 6O told her stories of human women visited in the dead of night by unnaturally beautiful men, only to give birth to a monster nine months later. Of course he would feel ashamed of any sort of sexual desire. Perhaps he feared losing control of himself and hurting her in some way, not that he could.

Still, agitation crept through 2B’s gut, mingling with guilt into a nauseating slurry. A part of her wants to track 9S down and just have her way with him, a very large part. At least she still has enough sense about her to keep those kinds of thoughts down. Now if only there was something she could do about the heat coiling in her gut. She needs to distract herself, it seems like a decent idea to give 9S some space at the moment. He doesn’t need to be more overwhelmed than he already is.

The little blue stone burns in her pocket. Maybe if she had explained herself thoroughly and gone through with her original plan, things would have played out differently. Or at least 9S wouldn’t be terrified of her… She hopes she hasn’t ruined her relationship with him because of her own desires.

Ugh...she needs to clear her head.

2B stretches out her arms, takes a deep breath, prepares to transform and take to the skies. 9S can defile whatever foliage he decides to. She has much cleaner means of relieving tension like this. However, a strange scent piques her interest just enough to keep her grounded for a moment, and a moment is all it takes.

It hits her full force, hard enough to throw her off balance. She reaches out to a tree to steady herself as her whole world spins. Every thought in her head leaves her, only to be replaced by carnal thoughts.

Of course. Of course someone with his heritage would have such powerful pheromones.

Uneven breaths make her chest heave. She can’t think of anything else, not unless she focuses all of her energy on simple concentration. Her face feels hot, no...her whole body feels hot. Especially the coiling pressure in her lower abdomen. It isn’t a new feeling, but it’s the first time she’s felt it this strong and outside the safety of the Elder’s Sanctum.

It’s the first time she can act on it…

Just the thought makes her mouth go dry. She could easily overpower him, make him submit to her and-...

No. Her willpower is stronger than these base urges. She wouldn’t forgive herself if she ever brought harm to 9S. She brings her sleeve to her face which mitigates some of the smell. If she can calm herself she can get through this through sheer will alone. This is nothing compared to the days confined to the Elder’s with the other unmarried women in heat. All of those hungry women in one home… It still makes her shudder to think about sometimes. Those meditation drills were nightmarish, though useful in this situation.

Don’t focus on the tightness in the stomach. Don’t think about the twitching of the muscles. Pay no mind to the dryness of the throat, or how the mind swims with carnal intentions. Focus on the self and the connection to the living world. Each breath, each beat of the heart is deliberate and strong. Do not waver to the will of the base self; command the body as if it were a warrior.

Slowly her body begins to calm and her mind clears. A brief sense of pride fills her as she inwardly praises herself and Coatyl practices. Perhaps all that isolative training wasn’t for nothing, even after leaving her people.

That all comes crashing down once she hears the sounds.

Rapid, heavy breathing, the faint echoes of flesh against flesh. Hell, she could almost hear his heart beating.

In the back of 2B’s mind, it’s funny to her how easily her resolve shatters. All it took was some lewd sounds and she’s storming through the forest. It’s not like she’s going to hurt him or scold him. She just wants to talk, if anything to tell him he’s being stupid. They were both adults, surely they could have a conversation about this sort of thing. Though...perhaps humans didn’t have the level of education on sex and sexuality that she and her kind received.

As she trudged through the forest it became clear that 9S would be in massive danger if there were any large predators lurking nearby. Anything on the hunt for easy prey would be drawn to the scent and sounds of the distracted half-breed. He probably doesn’t hear her footsteps or the shuffling of plant life around her. What an idiot. If she were someone else, she could have easily killed him.

Following 9S’ scent and sounds is an easy task for 2B. She’s used to prey being silent and unseen aside from flickering shadows and the rustle of leaves. With all the noise he makes he might as well have laid a stonework path for her directly to him. Even so, the closer she gets, the harder it becomes for her to think of anything beyond tearing the clothes from his body and-

The sight of a shock of white hair in the brush, rocking back and forth against a tree halts her line of thought. As she approaches, more and more of the lewd scene is revealed to her. With one arm propping himself up against the tree, 9S’ other hand is obscured by his body. His arm shudders, moving in time with the rest of his body, his hips bucking into his hand every so often. A desperate growl reaches 2B’s ears and stirs something inside her. It’s similar to the feeling she gets when about to strike an unsuspecting fish, something primal and predatory. It makes her stomach churn with disgust.

She moves closer, drawn in by his overpowering scent once again. A part of her hopes that he’ll become aware of her, that he’ll turn around and reprimand her for sneaking up on him, but he remains trapped in his hedonistic fantasies. His head tilts to the side slightly and for a moment 2B thinks he’s heard her, only for him to roll his neck and dip his head back against the trunk of the tree.

Frustration over different kinds boils over. She can’t stand by any longer. She must act, and put an end to this stupidity.

“Enough of this,” 2B commands and takes a step forward. Her voice is strong, echoing off the surrounding trees.

9S whips around, his face crimson red, “T- 2B?! What are you- !!”

He scrambles to cover himself with his discarded coat as 2B strides forward. Only a yard or so and a few shrubs separate them now. 2B can feel her mind hazing over once again.

“The way you acting. The hiding, the shame. It’s ridiculous.”

“I’m- 2B you-...,” he stammers and stumbles over his words.

2B can almost hear the blood surging through his body. It makes her mouth dry. She licks her lips before taking another step closer, “Are you afraid?”

“I…”

He looks like a prey animal, eyes wide and fearful, hands grasping at anything they can hold on to. 2B feels something tighten in her chest.

“Why bother to hide yourself. It’s no secret what you were doing.”

She reaches out to him, to the hand that holds his coat over his legs. As she takes his wrist in her hand she can feel the shivers wracking his whole body, and for a moment she thinks she may have made a mistake.

Suddenly, 9S’ body goes stiff with panic, “W- STOP!” he shouts and rips his arm away from 2B. He cowers against the tree, his fingers digging into the bark as if it would tether him to the earth.

2B finds herself without words, shocked by his sudden outburst.

“You can’t just...just do that! You don’t barge in on someone when-...” 9S’ face flushes a deep red as he shouts at her. His brow furrows and he even bares his teeth at her for a split second.

She bristles at his displays of aggression, but she can’t help but think, somewhere in the back of her mind, that he’s cute.

“I’m sorry,” she says dipping her head slightly yet grinding her fangs together.

“Well-...” he can’t hide his surprise but manages to maintain his outward anger, “Good.”

“I…” though the scents still cloud her mind, her better judgement resurfaces along with just a touch of shame, “I’m still learning these human customs. Your aversion to sexuality seemed useless to me. I thought...I thought if we could...fix this problem...you might be better off.”

“Fix...Did you mean-”

“I’ll leave you to your business, then.”

Before 9S can protest, she turns on her heels and steps over the small bushes that surround the tree he leans on.

“Wait! 2B hold on!” he yells and grabs at her arm.

His strength startles 2B, who stumbles backward.

“I...2B, listen…,” he says, bowing his head, “This...kind of thing with me...It’s complicated.”

“How?”

9S sighs, “It’s hard to explain. Since I don’t have...control...over certain abilities, I’m never sure. I don’t know if this is something I’m...making you feel, or if you're...if this is real.”

“I don’t understand.” 2B thought she made her intentions clear enough. Was there something she was missing? Some human courting ritual she never learned about?

“It’s got to do with...how I am,” he groans, “My incubus blood.”

“Yes, I’m aware of that.”

“Are you aware of what that means?” He huffs, “What can I do?”

2B shakes her head, “What, does it make you dangerous?” She finds it hard to believe that someone as non threatening as he is could be a threat to her.

“Not in the way you’re thinking of. It’s...I can make people...feel things. I guess you could say I can influence their minds, but I can’t...control it very well,” his head dips low, “There have been times before where people...have gotten too close and…”

There’s worrying hesitation in his voice. He curls into himself slightly before looking up at 2B with tired eyes.

“They weren't in their right mind when...when things almost went too far. I don’t want that to happen with you.”

Ah, now she understands.

“I am aware of what I am doing,” she says, her shoulders squared proudly, “And I am aware of what I want. But…” she sighs, “If you wish to be left alone, I will leave.”

9S bites his lip and in that moment of deliberation 2B feels her gut twist in a way she had never felt before. Could she be...afraid of rejection? No, that’s silly. It must be the arousal.

“You sure?” 9S asks in a meek voice 2B nearly misses, “What you want...it’s not something I’m...making you feel?”

“Yes,” she lies.

A heavy silence passes between them. 9S stares at her, piercing near-white eyes searching hers for something she can’t place. 2B waits for him to move. She thinks it’s best to allow him to lead, at least to start. He still seems frightened by her, so she will hold herself back. How long that lasts, though, she isn’t sure.

9S reaches out to her, cupping her cheek with his free hand. His thumbs idly traces the patterns of her scales as he studies her face intently. She feels his breath, heavy against her face, just before he leans in and presses his lips against hers.

It’s a surprisingly chaste kiss at first, both of them testing the waters so to speak. He applies a little pressure which 2B matches. He savors the closeness, weaving his fingers through her hair. A low rumble echoes in her chest, almost like a purr.

“Your hair is so soft…” 9S mumbles against her lips.

Frustration with his slow progression draws another low growl from 2B. She presses her body against his, feeling his heartbeat speed up and something twitch against her thigh. He bumps against the tree he hid behind, his breath hitching slightly with tangible panic. Not wanting to scare him 2B backs off of him a bit and allows him to pull away from the tree. She draws 9S back into her by forcing his lips to part and biting gently on his lower lip.

9S shudders at the sudden addition of teeth, a tiny sound escaping him like the mewl of a kitten. It only fuels 2B’s own building desires. She cups his cheeks in her hands, her thumbs rolling over his jawline, chin, and halting over his throat. The lump in his throat bobs with each trembling breath, his blood surges through his veins. Something in the back of her mind wants it...needs it, to open. 2B presses her thumb against one large vein in his neck and wonders how the blood that pulses through it would taste.

Her wish is granted not moments later, as her sharp teeth pierce the thin skin of his lower lip. 9S whimpers a bit but a quick swipe of her tongue soothes the pain quickly. Unfortunately, the moment his blood hits her tongue it sets off a terrifying reaction within her. She rips herself away from him and stares down at a very bewildered 9S.

“2B? What- !!”

With a fierce snarl, 2B slams him back against the tree so forcefully that for a moment his vision blurs. Her mouth is on his mere seconds later, her tongue forcing its way into his mouth. His pathetic mewls and body squirming against her own urges her to show more of her strength, to make him completely and utterly helpless, unable to put up any kind of fight. She wants total submission, and something tells her 9S will be more than happy to give it to her.

9S’ hands grab onto whatever part of her they can reach; one tugs at her hair, the other fumbling with her cloak and undershirt. Meanwhile her hands tear away his shirt with such frantic motions that her claws tear into his flesh. She breaks their kiss to scrape her teeth against his neck, revealing at the feeling of his blood thundering through his veins. It nearly drives her mad. His tail thrashes like an excited cat’s in response.

Once 9S recovers enough to retaliate, he worms his hands up 2B’s shirt. She shudders at his feather light touches as he traces the outlines of her muscles and scales. His touches are so reverent, a stark comparison to the way she manhandles him. Her hands twitch, aching to rip and tear him apart. She rakes her claws down his chest and begins to tug on the hem of his pants impatiently. Dimly she registers a wetness that coats the tip of her fingers but she pays it no mind, in fact it makes them tingle, as if they want more.

His hips rut against hers, desperately seeking relief, and 2B responds to it by crushing his body against the tree with her own. One hand dives beneath the hem of his smallclothes, gripping at his pronounced hip bones and teasing just above the base of his cock. The other hand pins his head back against the tree trunk, her claws digging into his scalp, marking him further.

“M-...ooore...please…” he begs.

Relenting to his touch, 2B shuffles out of her robes, leaving only her unbuttoned shirt, pants, and boots still on. 9S’ hands immediately move to her breasts and begin massaging them.

“Wh-...” 9S mumbles as he stares down at 2B’s body.

Her chest resembles a grown woman’s, but the hard scales remind him of her inhuman nature. With a curious glint in her eyes, 2B touches his chest, her clawed fingers lingering on a nipple. 9S’ breath hitches in his chest, betraying his sensitivity, so 2B ghosts the tip of her finger over it again. She remembers something 6O told her relating to these organs that female coatyls replicate in their human forms. Something to do with feeding their young. It isn’t important to getting what she wants from 9S, so she quickly abandons that train of thought.

“Down,” 2B commands, forcing 9S to sit in the dirt beneath her. Like an obedient pet he sits there, looking up at her with an expectant and exhausted look. Smears of blood cover his face and chest, but he doesn’t appear bothered by it at all. He doesn’t even look in pain. In fact, he looks just as hungry as she does.

Unable and unwilling to draw this out any further, 2B kicks off her boots and unceremoniously removes both her pants and 9S’ smallclothes. His cock twitches lewdly in the sudden cool air of the fast approaching night, and 2B feels her stomach tighten at the sight. In a show of courage that throws her off guard, 9S wraps his arms around her waist and presses soft kisses and vicious bites to her hips. Similar to her mimic breasts, the scales between her legs are thick, almost leathery to the touch. Even with his two pointed fangs, 9S’ bites barely pierce her skin, yet she lets out a low groan of approval and holds on to the nub-like horns that jut from his forehead.

Answering her demand from earlier in the day, the offhand comment that lead to this, 9S lets his unnaturally long tongue slide across her hips and dips between her legs. She instinctively parts her legs for him and tugs his head closer, urging him onward. Like an eager kitten he laps at her folds and occasionally slides his tongue inside her, just a bit. The sudden contact makes 2B dig her claws into the side of 9S’ head, staining his white hair with streaks of crimson. Though his motions are sloppy and frantic, 2B pulls his face closer and lifts one leg up to rest on his shoulder. Each time 9S hits a particularly sensitive spot with the tip of his tongue, the claws on her toes slice open his skin. Each spasm of muscle brings her leg down his shoulder, drawing more blood along the way. At one point her balance falters, and she accidentally drags her claws down his shoulder and chest, leaving deep gashes in their wake. To regain her balance she pushes forward on his chest, forcing him back against the tree and crushing her claws deeper into his chest. He bites his bloody lip to keep back a particularly loud moan.

9S looks up at her with dark, lustful eyes that mirror 2B’s. His mouth hangs open, breaths heavy on his lips as he begs wordlessly for her touch. She hastily kneels down, straddling his hips and positioning herself just over his aching cock. His bravery returns again, this time in the form of him bucking up to her. The tip of his cock just barely touches her wet folds, but the brief taste alone isn’t nearly enough for 2B. She slams his head back against the tree, pinning him to the bark, and slams herself down onto him.

They both cry out in surprise and pain. 9S writhes beneath her, his hands scrambling for any sort of purchase on her muscular body. His tail flicks wildly back and forth before winding around her waist.

“I don’t think…,” he wheezes, his voice hoarse and raspy, “You’re supposed to go that...fast.”

“Have you done this before?” 2B asks with a hint of a growl in her throat.

“N...No,” he admits. If he weren’t streaked with blood he might have been blushing, “Have you?”

“Not with a man.”

9S pushes himself up into her, using his hands as leverage. Taking the hint, 2B places her hands underneath his rear and holds him up. For a moment she takes notice of the heavy scarring near the base of his tail and wonders how those scars could have come to be.

They let instinct take over, which seems to counteract the awkward angle of their bodies. 2B grinds down onto his cock while 9S tries to thrust up into her despite being held in her iron grip. He finally moves in earnest when 2B’s hands grip onto his shoulders. Occasionally her claws rake down his back, causing him to cry out and arch his back into her nails. Each time his cock hits the same sensitive areas his tongue did mere minutes ago, she muffles her own cries by sinking her predatory teeth into his neck. Of course, he bites at her chest and shoulders as well, but her scales protect her from the little damage he can do.

“T-...I’m-!!”

Whatever 9S was going to say is cut off by a sharp whimper. He quickly buries his face in her breasts and clings to her, his hips bucking wildly and tail tightening its grip around her waist. Feeling the same tension and heat that she assumes 9S must be feeling, 2B draws one hand down between their bodies and hastens her own orgasm by furiously rubbing at the sensitive (and frankly neglected) nub. Just as she does, she feels 9S’ cock twitch inside her once, twice, and with a drawn out moan he comes. His entire body spasms in her grip and soon loses the tension that had built up within, but she isn’t done with him yet.

She slams him down into the dirt and pins him against the tree, the back of his head smacking into the bark. Her teeth sink into his neck again, marking him as hers over and over. The hand that isn’t between her legs digs into whatever flesh it can grab and marks him there as well. 2B rides his fast softening cock with the same ferocity as she would display in a fight to the death, and when the waves of pleasure finally wash over her, she clamps her teeth around the spot where his neck and chest meet. They will all know he is hers, that she is strong and has made him hers. She hisses as those waves disperse far too quickly, even though her muscles still spasm.

As the lustful haze disperses from her mind, 2B slowly rises from the ground. Even still, a wave of dizziness threatens to topple her. It’s only through willpower that she manages to remain standing.

With a deep and contented sigh, she turns to the rising moon and stars beginning to show themselves for the night, “We should hurry back. Don’t want you to get into trouble…”

As she looks down at 9S while hastily dressing herself, her eyes widen at the sight beneath her. It’s as if he had been attacked by some animal. Hideous jagged wounds cover his body, seeping blood onto the clothes he struggles to put on. His eyes are heavy, as is his breathing, and he looks far paler than normal. He looks up at her with glassy eyes and offers a smile of all things.

“Heh...Yeah…Don’t want-...” he groans as he pulls on his pants, covering the blooming purple bruises on his thighs and hips, “Jackass to...yell…”

The quivering waver in his voice sets 2B on edge. Something is wrong with him, he sounds weak. Too weak. As she reaches her hand out to help him stand, she recoils at the sight of her own blood stained fingers. In fact, nearly the entirety of her arms and even up to her chest is caked in fast drying blood.

Oh gods...what has she done?

9S rises to his feet, takes two shaky steps forward, and collapses onto the ground in a bloody heap.

“Tw...I don’t...feel good….” he wheezes.

2B believes herself to be unflinching in the face of any trail. It was what was instilled in her through years of rigorous training and studies. But the sight of 9S, crumpled and broken by her hands sends her into a panic. Her thoughts come and go faster than she can handle, all of her field aid knowledge seems to slip from her mind the instant she begins to wrap her robe around his body. It’s a crude way to protect his wounds from grievous infection, but it will do till she can get him to someone who knows what they’re doing.

And 2B knows just the person.

Luckily, most townsfolk are smart enough to stay inside at night, so 2B only ends up scaring the daylights out of the few guards and soldiers posted for the evening patrols. One of them calls out to her, but their cries fall on deaf ears, as she has only one focus at the moment.

As soon as 2B finds it, one solid kick to the infirmary door nearly breaks it off the hinges.

“6O!” she shouts, cradling 9S’ body close to her.

A chorus of grumbles from sleeping, bedridden soldiers answers her, followed by the sound of an annoyed druid storming up to her.

“What in the world do you need at this hour-...Is that Nines?!” 6O shouts, rushing over to his shivering body, “Good gods what happened to him?! To both of you?! You’re covered in blood!!”

“He-...I-...” 2B’s brain races to come up with some sort of explanation. She doesn’t want to get 9S into trouble, so she settles on the first lie that isn’t obviously stupid, “Bear. There was a bear.”

A strange look crosses 6O’s face for a moment, “...Okay. Follow me, quickly. Let’s get him down over here.”

2B follows 6O to a section of the infirmary closed off with a few curtains, possibly for more grievous injuries to be tended to. She sets 9S onto the small bed as instructed to by 6O, who immediately begins working. She removes the robe 2B wrapped him in, followed by his shirt and pants. Her hands alight with green energy as she prepares some healing spells to soothe his pain and help speed up recovery. 2B leans in close beside her, watching every movement 9S makes with hawk-like intensity.

“Is there anything I can do?” 2B asks.

“I need space right now,” 6O responds with a low, professional tone, “Go wait in my room, I’ll talk to you when he’s stable.”

“But-”

“Now, 2B. Go get yourself cleaned up.”

She’s known 6O long enough to know that when she speaks like that, there’s no arguing with her. Dutifully she exits the infirmary and silently makes her way to 6O’s quarters. A small washbasin sits near the druid’s bed, already filled. 2B cleans the blood from her hands and arms with a small rag that sits on the edge of the basin, then scrubs at her face. She lets her bloodstained clothes soak in the tub while she paces the room like a caged animal, waiting for 6O to return with news of 9S.

Each time she glances at the tub of murky red water, her stomach churns. It wasn’t supposed to be like this… She wasn’t supposed to hurt him. Yet she lost control of herself so easily…

Maybe she was a beast...just as they said…

2B isn’t sure how long it is before 6O returns to her, but it feels like days. She immediately rushes up to the Druid, who cleans her hands of blood on a wet rag.

“Is he okay?” 2B asks.

6O sighs and tosses the rag into the basin with 2B’s clothes, “He’s lost a lot of blood, and he’s dehydrated on top of that. But Nines is tough, despite his size. He should be back on his feet in a few days.”

2B let’s put a long sigh of relief, “Oh thank the gods…”

“However,” 6O shoots a piercing look at her, “Those wounds looked nothing like a bear attack.” She turns to 2B and crosses her arms over her chest, “Want to tell me what actually happened?”

“I…” 2B never noticed how intimidating those green eyes of hers could be. There’s no use lying to her now, but…”You won’t get him in trouble, will you?”

“2B…”

She huffs at 6O’s scolding mother-like tone, “We had a...little rendezvous in the woods outside the city.”

6O’s eyes nearly bulge out of her head, “You-...Those are from sex?!”

“...Yes.” 2B says, flinching away from her.

“Good gods, 2B! If I didn’t know better I would have thought he was maimed by a demon! He could have died!”

She stays silent, eyes cast down to the stone floor. In other circumstances, she might have snapped back at 6O, but she deserves every bit of this for what she’s done to 9S.

“2B.” 6O calls, “Did you hear me?”

“Huh?”

“I said,” she repeats, “Did he ask you to stop?”

“No…”

“Idiot boy.” She mutters under her breath.

“I...I lost control of myself. I don’t know what came over me…it was like I just...I had to be...like that with him…”

Immediately, 6O’s expression softens, “Oh, 2B…”

Her pity makes 2B’s stomach flip. It’s the last thing she wants from anyone at this point.

“Look,” 6O says, sitting on the edge of her bed and motioning for 2B to do the same, “Even though he’s a bit more resilient than other humans, he’s still just as...squishy.”

“I know that. It’s just...I thought I had better self control. I didn’t mean to hurt him…”

6O wraps her arms around her dejected friend’s shoulders, “Hey, I told you he’s gonna be okay. Besides, if I know that weirdo, he probably enjoyed all of...that a little too much.”

2B lets out a breathy chuckle, “Probably.”

She drifts into her thoughts while 6O continues talking. The Druid might have her faults, but she is an expert at calming 2B down when she gets lost in her own mistakes. Gods know where all this patience came from. She idly plays with the hem of her undershirt until-

“Oh shit, I forgot to give him the rock.”

#nier atuomata #nier fanfiction #fantasy au #Tanks fics #2B #9S #6O #21O #The Commander #2B9S

[standstilldew-blog]

Today

Today is like any other day. I cant sleep, and work is in 5 hours.

I would love to sleep but i just cant. Maybe writing a journal about it will help.

I am desperately looking for a life long companion. A girl to call my own.

I cant do that. There are no girls I like that way.

The girl in class is almost there, but she has a boyfriend.

She does touch me a lot though. Its nice, it means shes not disgusted by me.

I am also in constant fear of failing my classes, as i have done it before.

I enjoy my job, but it wont last forever. I need to look more in the future i guess.

I get paid very well , so saving is relatively easy.

My favorite tings are: My cat, hes a really good boy with so much love to give.

My family, they all love me so much, i just wish i was a better person to them.

Video games, if I didnt have them id dont know where id be right now.

They also supply me with plenty of fun and memorable characters.

I’ve fallen in love with a few. I kow its just pitiful, but i actually cry sometimes because theyre not real.

Music, its what keeps me going! Hatsune miku is a blessing in my life.

My will to not die. Im thankful for that.

Today i went to school after doing some laundry. I went to my classes, got to talk to an acquaintance for a little bit. After my first class i went and got some gum and soda. Then i wnet back to class. The AC was no longer working. I also updated my unused laptop at the library, so i could actually use it since i cant sell it. Then i went home. Ate some fish and set up my laptop to be my new tv computer.

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

Now im trying to sleep. Back full circle. I know not a single soul will read this. Because in all aspects, i am unimportant. The butterfly effect doesnt work on me. Ill try to keep these daily in the event that it actually helps me sleep.

#journal

[get-a-new-lease-on-life]

A New Lease on Life - #59

         WELL. It's been about a donkey's age since I've been able to update this. Normally I'd apologize for the wait…but…well, honestly, I've been beating myself up enough as it is and it's not like it happened out of the blue. Kinda-brief update for anyone wondering:            I've warned about an impending grief hiatus since my uncle Bob's cancer diagnosis, and the hiatus came to pass in December. Uncle Bob finally lost his fight to cancer after two years of treatment and fading. The end came on rather suddenly but after the deathwatch he went peacefully and without pain. His death really messed me up, especially since I was already suffering from depression. Our first Christmas without Bob was also our last Christmas with Granny Chance, his mother and my grandmother…she suffered a massive stroke in January and died soon afterward. In the space of a month, my family and I lost two members, one right after the other. In a word, the whole situation has been FUCKED and it's still not completely over. There are good days, and bad days…and, to quote a certain Del Toro film, "Then there are the really bad days." Between those, we're all slowly working our way through the fallout and healing process.            This chapter is the first I've been able to finish since SEPTEMBER, largely because all of my stories are currently in plot-required angsty-dramatic phases and I CANNOT WRITE SAD SCENES when I'm depressed. It's entirely IMPOSSIBLE, they always come out farcical or they just don't flow. It SUCKS. TBH, I don't know for certain if I'm going to be able to catch up to my previous writing abilities or pace anytime soon but I'm certainly going to try. Also, quick note if you're reading this on Tumblr – they recently enacted a WORDBLOCK LIMIT on text posts of 100 blocks. Yeah. We're now limited to 100 paragraphs including the title. If the chapter's low dialogue and has no notes, that's fine, but if not? Well, we're just screwed because THIS ONE ran 86 ¶s WITHOUT the notes, glossary, and pre-story stuffs. I'm not sure yet how I'll be handling that limit for good, whether that means posting links to sites without the bullshit limits, posting long chapters in pieces, or linking to the separate posts with the notes and glossary, but I'll figure it out in time. For now, I’ll be including the NOTES at the end and you can find the GLOSSARY at FFnet or AO3.  Check out Spotify for a playlist centered on this arc - features suggested listening for this chapter and the next few, and much, much more.         Lastly, I'd like to take a moment to thank everyone for their patience and understanding, and give a shout-out to some wonderful people who've made this new chapter possible. This chapter is dedicated to Wolf, Newt, and Ihlni for their invaluable support and kind words – to my hubby Cold for letting me ugly-cry on him without complaint and never failing to remind me that life has to go on – to my ma-in-law for teasing me about earning a nasty hangover instead of acknowledging that I looked like death-on-the-rocks and was obviously crying before I answered the door – to my mother for being a bloody SAINT and to my father for intentionally being an asshole when someone to fight with was just what I needed – to Wanda Farmer on AO3 and vbt22220 on FFnet for their encouragement in reviews, the folks on Tumblr who offered kind words when I needed them most, and to all you wonderful people who've stuck by me, read my stories, and are still reading after all this time. Above all, though, this chapter is dedicated to the memory of Granny Chance and Uncle Bob – may they ever rest in peace.

Suggested Listening: Fuel "Hemorrhage [In My Hands]," Paramore "The Only Exception," Prince "Purple Rain," Survivor "I Never Stopped Loving You" 

 59: A Matter of Honor

The Lair, November 19th - around noon

Donatello wasn't known for being a fool; regardless, he felt rather foolish anytime the obvious failed to register until it was staring him in the face. This was just such a time. He didn't recall sequestering himself in the lab much less falling asleep at his workbench, but the proof was self-evident: a crick in his neck, a strand of insulated wire still stuck to his drool-sticky cheek, and sweat-smeared glasses half off his face. It took a moment of tired lip-smacking and searching to comprehend the facts—ah, right, he pulled an all-nighter to complete the vital signs monitor for Kimber's visit. From what he could see, the device was, indeed, completed. Too tired to consider the absurd picture he must make, he peeled the wire trimming off his cheek and set it aside.

What woke him? He searched his memory, found nothing, then turned to more closely examine his surroundings. A plate of now-cold PopTarts and a cup of coffee (helpfully covered with a cracked saucer) waited a safe distance from his elbow. Right - it was Saturday. This time last year he easily lost track of the days between all-nighters and the sleeping-binges that always followed them. Now he had a weekly reminder in the form of too-sweet coffee and half-burned pastries, courtesy of the confusing woman whose scent still clung to his skin. How blessed he felt in this moment…

The moment ended with a familiar sound—a sleep-slurred phrase he could recognize anywhere but never quite understood. Ya been away too long he got, and he recognized the terms sook, e'en, and nip though he wasn't fully certain of their context.* Beyond that the half-Celt tucked into the cot may as well have been speaking Greek for all he knew. The oft-repeated tease fell short in a particularly nasal snore. Donnie hoisted himself out of his chair with a chorus of protesting joints and slowly rounded the workbench. Silently, he regarded his sleeping woman, soaking in all the silly little details that caught his eyes—the freckles spattered across her skin, the flash of faded ink peeking up over her drooping neckline, the stubborn silver cowlicks sticking up at odd angles from her loosely bound hair—anything to remind himself she was still alive.

He shook his head in weary defeat. A full week after their desperate flight from Willsdale and every time he woke he still half-expected to find Amber cold to the touch, lifeless and painted in blood. Perhaps, he considered as he gathered her in his arms and made his way to their bedroom, this was one scar which would only be healed with time. Perhaps, he considered as he lay her across the neatly tucked quilt and curled up behind her, he could only conquer his fear of Amber's death by focusing on her life. Even as he tugged her flush against his plastron and groin and nuzzled into her neck, he couldn't erase the memory of her: bruised, bloody, and broken, and rapidly fading in his arms. He shuddered and sucked in a steadying breath of her scent.

She wasn't dead, she was alive now…it was enough…right?

Red Fern Florist, Noon

Normally, Red Fern Florist was a calm place – a quiet and classy establishment that just so happened to be run by people who didn't care about being quiet or classy. This, alas, was not a normal day, not even in the slightest.

Abilene Whitaker manned the register, eyes focused somewhere beyond the neon-streaked pages of her textbook and not registering a word. The backroom echoed with near-constant racket—crashes, curses, objects falling or being thrown… Abby sighed, pinched the bridge of her nose, and dragged herself off of the barstool to investigate. Sure enough, Mercy was stocking the shelves a tad too roughly…if by roughly one meant throwing the bags of supplies around like a spandex-clad steroid junkie at a WWE grudge-match smackdown.

"Alright, that's enough," Abby snapped at her blonde subordinate; Mercy froze, embarrassed grey-blue eyes meeting Abby's over a lean, hunched shoulder. "You've been stomping around and slamming things all afternoon. What on earth could be so horrible you've gotta torture the mulch?" Mercy cringed, fixing guilty eyes on the bag of mulch in her grip. Caught. "Well?" The blonde uttered a sound halfway between a groan and a growl, snorted, then slid the bag onto its shelf with more care than necessary.

"My man's ex is comin' by tonight," she admitted under her breath. "She's stayin' a few days."~

"WHAT?!" Abby squawked in protest. "He's bringing his ex over?! Aw, Hell naw! Girl, you drop that boy before I find him and punch him in the man-fritters!" Man-fritters?** Mercy couldn't help it – she sniggered at the visual – but her laughter faded into regret when she registered the rest of Abby's threat.

"No can do," she sighed, "it's kinda unavoidable." Abby crossed her arms, scrunched her lips into an almost exact replica of Leo's 'pissy leader pout,' and waited for an explanation. Mercy rolled her eyes, spearing her fingers into her hair and yanking. "Kimber…well, she's like me an' Amber," she explained under her breath. "Remember I told ya Amber…uh…went home for a few days? Well, she almost…um…didn't come back. Bitch-nipple's comin' over to see how long any of us can stay home without that happening. She invited herself, we voted, Raph lost, she won." Abby took a moment to let that sink in.

"Your guy tried to vote her off the island?" A grim nod from Mercy. "They broke up before she left, right?"

"…and she left before he an' I met," Mercy added even as she rolled her eyes.~ All the code-talk really got on her nerves but they had to be mindful of the security cameras. Abby leaned against the doorframe, lean shoulders at a sharp slant, and hazel eyes puzzled behind her fuchsia-streaked hair.

"You think she wants him back?" she asked quietly. "He won't…" She sucked in a nervous breath. "What if she tries to win him back?"

"You're kiddin', right?" Mercy scoffed. "He dumped her! He's been angsty as fuck over breakin' her heart, yeah, but I know'im—she could make all the moves she wants, he ain't gonna budge."~ Not to mention Kimber's still dead she added in her own head then shook it. After all, she was dead, too. The whole situation stank like a crappy soap opera. "I trust'im, Abbs," she added under her breath. "Raph chose me, not the Jersey-Devil-wannabe…jealousy's pointless when I already know the end result, an' that end result is he's with me."

Abby watched her a moment, scrutinizing and studying; just as suddenly as she issued the threat against Raph's genitals, she smiled. "You're a strong woman," the neon-haired clerk remarked lightly. "I ever heard one of Cherie's exes asking to stay, I'd bash the twat's teeth in. You need anything, you give me a call, alright?" Mercy nodded, halfway between a cringe and a grateful smile, and went back to the stocking. "So how are things going between you two, anyway?" Abby added taking up her share of the lifting. "You never bring him by, you never tell me much about him…how's he treating you?"

Mercy paused, brow furrowed, and scrambled for an answer that didn't make her sound like an absolute sap. She couldn't find one. "He makes me wanna listen to Faith Hill, watch him sleep, an' punch his ex in the teeth," she grumbled. The heat in her cheeks went nuclear at Abby's excited squeal.

"Oh-em-GEE!" the younger practically shrieked. "You love him!" Mercy shot her a sour glare.

"Woman," she groused, "shut yer ass – the bullshit's leakin' out."

The Lair, shortly after dusk   -   00:00:00  

Two weeks ago, Kimber Bryant faced down Leonardo and demanded the opportunity to make right the trouble she caused his family. Now she stood in the hallway, practically quaking in her mud-stained canvas sneakers, unsure how to proceed. It didn't exactly help that Leo was still glaring at her from behind and her other escort, Donatello, kept fiddling with the tablet strapped to his left forearm.

"Now remember, you've gotta keep the leads from getting tangled," the genius rambled without ever once looking at her. "A little perspiration shouldn't cause any unwanted interference—I insulated the outer casing well to deter any outside condensation or humidity finding its way into the monitor's internal components but there are limits." Kimber rolled her bottle green eyes over at Leo in hope of rescue from Donnie's babbling but received only a glare. "It's not fully water-tight," the genius continued with a shrug and 'meh' expression, still without even glancing her way, "so we'll need to cover it with a water-resistant dressing when it comes to bathing but other than that it—"

"Today, Donnie," Leo grumbled. The younger startled out of his thoughts, fingertips still poised on the holographic chart projected over his tech-tab. He blinked a few times in rapid succession as though refreshing his memory then turned to Kimber in question. From the looks of it, she seemed ready to chew her ankle off to escape the lecture. She really was so very different from Amber…how could they possibly be the same person underneath it all? Could a person's history and past choices really have that big an impact on their personality and attitude?

"Uh…right," he uttered with a wince. "Anyway, it's natural for your core temperature to fluctuate a certain amount over the day but if it drops too low, I'll get an alert. We may not have much time to get you back…so…" he trailed off in hopes she'd pick up the slack.

"Don't get comfy," she finished sourly. "Yeah, I got it. Git lawst."~ He crinkled his nose at her demand but said nothing; instead, he rolled his eyes in defeat and took off toward the lab.

"Remember our agreement," the eldest warned under his breath as he shouldered past her. "You have one chance, and you're to stay—"

"I got it, I got it," Kimber snapped in response. "Go dig t'at stick out'a ya ass before it gets stuck up t'ere."~ Other than a deep-chested growl of warning, Leonardo said nothing—he just stormed past her to some destination she didn't care to know. Rolling her eyes at his attitude, she made her way toward the light at the end of the hallway. The closer she came the more clearly she heard a familiar voice—a voice that still haunted her fondest dreams and worst nightmares.

Familiar laughter led her into the living area where two people were cuddled up on a lumpy sofa. The larger wore a familiar boyish grin that stole the breath right from her lungs. In her grip, the duffle-bag strap slid loose—sweaty palms, she realized. A fluttering, weightless sensation filled her veins—oh, no… 'Gawd dammit…why've I gotta still love'im?'~ She choked around the damned butterflies doing barrel-rolls in her gullet. Steeling her nerves, she shook off her mushy thoughts and turned the corner. 'It don't change nothin'—dead's dead, an' he never chose me anyway. It's better t'is way.'

Raphael…he looked so much the same and yet so different. His eyes shone with laughter where they once burned with distrust; his posture was relaxed where he always kept up a front before. Tucked into his side and 'narrating' the boxing match with absurd faked voice-overs was a tall, lean woman with short messy blonde hair. Kimber's lip ached to curl in a sneer as the blonde loosed a raucous laugh but she fought it back—Raph wasn't hers. If this…this woman in his arms was enough for him…well, she'd respect that. She only ever wanted to see him happy and by God, she'd do so, no matter how much it hurt.

One moment, everything in Mercy's world was perfect. There was a decent match on TV, Raph had 'bullied her' into not-cuddling with him, and for the moment they had no other obligations. As it always seemed to, though, everything fell apart in a single breath…a breath that carried a perfume of vanilla, sugar, and musk. The smell wasn't entirely unpleasant but it was strong enough to make her sinuses burn and her head hurt. Why must so many people marinate themselves in perfume and cologne?

As Mercy and Raphael turned to greet the newcomer in unison the arm around her waist slackened—bright golden hazel eyes widened—full, scarred lips fell slack in dismay. Those lips formed a single word—a name Mercy spent hours cursing that afternoon—but no sound came forth. Torn, she held her silence, eyes darting from Raphael to the stranger and back again almost desperately. She knew this moment would come, she just didn't realize how much she'd want to scream obscenities when it did.

The stranger broke the stare first, bottle-green eyes flustered behind their impeccable smoky eyeliner. She reached up to her modest neckline, grabbed at the pair of worn metal dog-tags at her chest, took a deep breath, then looked up again with a weak smile. "'ey, Raphie," she murmured in a voice still thick with smog. "Long time no see, huh?" The hulking mutant couldn't even get out a single word; he just nodded, his chin and lips unnaturally stiff. Even as he stared down Kimber Bryant he clenched his fingers even tighter to Mercy's waistband. Mercy glanced down at the sight of his three-fingered hand anchoring her in place by a belt-loop. Just that morning, she woke up with that hand tangled in the hem of her nightgown anchoring it at mid-thigh. She had nothing to fear.

She pried Raph's fingers loose, stretched an imaginary crick from her neck, and rolled off the sofa to her feet. "I'll catch up later," Mercy remarked with an entirely faked smile and made her way to the side door. "Compost prob'ly needs a turnin' 'bout now."~ On the way past, she silently took in what details she could, mentally comparing them. The other woman was her height but beyond thin and into skinny. Her hair was coarse—naturally red from the looks of it but with a texture similar to unraveled jute twine. A sharp glance told Mercy the other had practically no ass; no competition there. She rolled her eyes, punched in the security code to pass through, then let the door drift shut behind her.

Before she could get anywhere a pair of large, powerful hands snatched her by the shoulders, spun her about, and pinned her to the tunnel wall. "Why you leavin'?" Raph demanded sharply. His voice was barely below a shout but as so often before, Mercy saw underneath that posturing—she saw the suspicious shimmering in his eyes, the nervous tic in his jaw, the vulnerable hunching of his shoulders, and the lurching of his throat and plastron from frantic heaving breaths. Fear was the one thing he really had no reason to feel in this case but it was written all over him. She cupped his squared jaw, thumb tracing the scar splitting his lip.

"I ain't leavin', ya meathead," she corrected as he covered her hand with his in a frantic grip. "You were friends, right? Ya never got to say goodbye. I've seen how this's been tearin' you apart an' I'm sick of watchin' it."~ Her lips curled in a tease but it was entirely true—she was beyond sick of having another woman in their relationship, even a dead one. "Ya need closure, I get that—I'm backin' off so you can get it. Got it?" Raphael said nothing—he just stared back, visibly searching her words for subtext. When he finally spoke, what he asked made no sense.

"Why?" he demanded in a near-deadpan. Mercy wrinkled her nose but before she could speak, he continued. "Why're ya testin' me like dis? What've I done ta deserve dat?"~

"Testin' you?" Mercy shook her head and scoffed. "I'm not testin' ya, Red," she promised. "I know you and I trust you—you're not about to cheat on me with anyone, much less a dead chick, right?" He shook his head in agreement and his eyes softened; he belatedly released her hand, choosing instead to cup her cheek.

"I wouldn't do dat to ya," he confirmed gruffly. "I'd never…I promised not ta hurt ya an' I meant it…but…" He faltered, flustered and struggling to find the right words. "Dis ain't right…ya ought'a be pissed at me fer even lettin' 'er come here…heck, if dis happened to any other guy, he'd get slapped fer lettin' it happen!"

"You're not any other guy," Mercy reminded shortly, "an' I'm not any other gal. Jealousy won't help anything, it ain't healthy, and you weren't too keen on her comin' over, to begin with. I've got no reason to be mad at'cha, an' especially no reason to hit ya."~ Her eyes drifted back toward the side door, now closed, and she sighed. "I don't like it," she admitted as her hand drifted down to his thick neck, "but I know you need closure an' I trust you enough to not interfere."

Raphael said nothing—what could he possibly say?—instead, he took a step back, eyes wide. This wasn't the first time she professed her trust in him, nor would it be the last, but this utterance seemed the most improbable of all. Wait…no, there was one other moment even more unexpected—a recent moment, the moment he first witnessed Mercy Ross fall apart at the seams, right there in his arms.#

Tousled blonde hair spilled across his pillow like scattered straw. Unpainted lips, swollen from friction, panted around gasping breaths. Work-roughened fingertips clawed at the equally tough skin of his bare scalp and shoulders as he unleashed all his pent-up frustration on her finally bared skin.

   "I trust you," she'd promised only moments before. "When are ya gonna start trustin' yourself?"  

   "Ya shouldn't trust me," he'd blustered, but despite his denials, he caved to her temptation. He knew from the first breath it would take weeks to clear her pheromones from his lungs; he'd never forget the taste of her or her keening cries of completion. When the madness left her eyes and the fire dulled in his blood, Raphael knew he'd never be able to see his Mercy the same, nor would he ever cease to be humbled by her seemingly unshakable faith in him—trust he couldn't recall doing a damn thing to earn.  

That July, Raphael took a chance on happiness in the middle of an open rooftop—a single kiss followed by countless more, all sound-tracked with heavy metal. Ever since then, anytime he fell to the temptation of Mercy's lips, he lost himself completely. He wanted her—he needed her—he craved her—she was the air he breathed, vital to his very survival and responsible for every beat of his heart. Far below the filthy streets, in a dark passage forgotten by the world in general, he stole her lips and breathed her in reverence.

He loved her—loved her beyond the limits of his fears and follies—and that was why she knew he wouldn't let her down.

"So you two, huh?" Raphael ducked his head to avoid Kimber's eyes, hoping she couldn't see the traces of stickiness at his lips or the tenting of his patched trousers. She said nothing, choosing instead to examine the worn red tweed of the sofa arm she perched on.

"What of it?" he retorted slumping onto the seat at the opposite end of the couch.

"Looks like ya found a good one, 'at's all," she shrugged. He studied her silently a moment, searching for signs of deceit. In his heart, he knew this stranger was Kimber—his Kimber, the friend he threw away over his insecurities and fears—but her appearance was largely unfamiliar. Kimber was always on the chunky side of curvaceous but with an undeniable sex appeal. This new body was built like a scarecrow - all long limbs and frizzy hair - but underneath he could see the same sensual confidence Kimber had before she died. That sensuality was all Kimber - Amber lacked it completely, always coming across somewhere between odd and awkward. This woman, though visually unfamiliar, was definitely Kimber. Something in her eyes spoke of mischief…and regret. "Fer Gawd's sake," she swore under her breath and turned an acidic glare on him. He refused to meet it, locking his eyes on one padded and splayed knee. "I know t'a drill—I'm dead, not stoopid."

"Ya were never stupid, Kim, jus' stubborn an' naive," he protested but she waved him off.

"T'en quit lookin' at me like t'at." After a moment of resistance, he finally bit the bullet—he met her eyes. "Yeah, like t'at," the redhead grumbled, "like I'm gonna jump ya if ya take yer eyes off'a me or somethin'. I may be livin' in a homewrecker but t'at don't make me a homewrecker." This time, she was the one to hide her eyes.

A long, tense silence filled the room, broken only by the occasional sound from the Lab or utility room. In this unexpected but overdue moment, despite the drastically different appearance, Raphael saw Kimber as she was when they first met—not the over-confident temptress with the venomous smile and devil-may-care attitude but the lost, lonely, frightened runaway searching for her place in the world. Her new body was thirty-five if it was a year old, but she'd never looked more like a child to him than she did now. The night she turned Lefty and Northpaw over to the police and fell apart, Raph let the wrong head do the thinking and her heart suffered for it. So much heartache came from that one bad call—Kimber's death, too, was a result—how could he ever make it right?

"Rah-fay-el." The quiet – almost reverent – utterance of his name startled him from his brooding. Kimber faced the far wall but her eyes were locked on his askance. "Tell me t'a truth…did ya ever love me?" He blanched; she scoffed and picked at the faded red tweed covering the sofa. "I know we was close," she clarified in a soft tone void of accusation, "friends to be sure, but did ya ever love me like I loved you?"

He didn't answer—he couldn't answer, not around the painful lump in his throat. For so long, he wondered the very same. Loving Kimber, after all, would have made his betrayal a crime of passion rather than a bad move made in paranoid self-defense. Despite all his brooding introspection, though, he always came up with the same answer: he could have loved her, but he didn't…if he'd kept his head, maybe, someday, he could have loved her, but he didn't. "Exactly." Kimber's near-whisper broke his train of thought. "I knew ya didn't love me," she admitted even as her shoulders drew tight and her painted lips stretched in a sort of sneer. "I always knew it, I just t'ought…eh, no matter. I'm not gonna fuck up yer life again."

"I think ya got dat backwards," Raph pointed out dryly. "I fucked up yer life—I'm why yer…" He faltered, his throat clenching around the word as though to prevent him from voicing it. "Ya know," he settled for with a weak half-shrug, "like dis." Kimber watched him silently, eyes sharp enough to cut away his protective façade.

"Say it," she challenged. He flinched; she slid off the armrest and stalked over to face him, arms crossed in defiance. "Say it, Raph," she ordered, "ya know what I am—ya know t'a word, so use it. I'm…" She trailed off, one eyebrow cocked in expectance.

Raphael cringed. Of all the times he wished it was possible to completely withdraw into his shell, this was one of the worst so far. Weary hazel eyes drifted from Kimber's dirty canvas sneakers up her faded jeans and cotton blouse, up to her unimpressed eyes. "Yer…dead," he whispered as if confessing some great sin.

"Exactly," Kimber harrumphed and jabbed him between the eyes with one clear-lacquered fingernail. "Dead folks an' live folks jus' don't mix, ya muck-brained mawron.~ It wouldn't work an' I ain't about to waste my time tryin' ta make it work. Capiche?" He nodded, glaring up at her retreating back.

"Den why'd ya come back?" he asked, letting his hand fall back to his knee. "Dere had to be anutha way to test Don's theory, so why'd ya volunteer?"~ Kimber stilled in her pacing, carefully arranging her words before they could all spill out without concern for her feelings.

"I never got ta say goodbye," she admitted in a near-whisper, "not ta you, not ta Daron or Lefty, not ta anyone who mattered…but I've neva been t'at big on goodbyes anyhow, ya know?" Her voice cracked on the last words and she took a moment to compose herself. When she spoke again, she turned to the side as though watching him over her shoulder but her eyes remained hidden. "I made a lotta mistakes, Red—a lotta stoopid decisions t'at hurt a lotta people—an' much as I wanted to just stay dead, I lived ta regret every one'a t'ose decisions. T'at's why I came back…t'a fix t'a shit I broke an' atone for my sins. If t'at means stayin' here fer t'ree days while you an' Blondie play suck-face, so be it."

"Ya know you're puttin' yer life at risk, right?" Raph reminded, ignoring the suck-face comment. "Donnie ain't sure about da timing on dis thing, ya know. He an' the braided nutcase passed five days in her world but they weren't gone a whole three days, here. Who's to say ya'll have a full three days here? Who's ta say ya won't drop dead in an hour, or three hours, or even a minute from now?" He shuddered at the thought, his mind helpfully supplying several months' worth of nightmares to choose from, most of which ended with Kimber dying in his arms. "Ya froze, Kim, an' dat ain't an easy way to go; are ya really willing to risk goin' through it all over again?"

"It's my choice," she reminded with a stern expression reminiscent of an unimpressed schoolmarm. "No one asked me ta make t'at choice. Besides, see t'is?" She tugged her neckline aside to show him the small plastic device hung from her neck and the line of wire trailing down to her armpit. "T'is lil' t'ing's monitoring my core temp—we've got t'is covered. Trust me?"

Raph considered the plea a moment—for it was, indeed, a plea in every sense of the word—then gave a slow, reluctant nod. "I don't like it," he admitted in a throaty rumble, "but it ain't my job ta like it." There was much more to say, but for the moment, he hadn't words.

"Nope," Kimber agreed with a sly grin. "It's yer job ta help me give Daron a heart attack. What say we give'im a visit from t'a Livin' Dead Girl?" It was just a tease—just another excuse to ignore the elephant in the room—but for the moment, Kimber didn't care. She had more important tasks to focus on—messes to clean up, mistakes to correct, sins to atone for, and honor to regain. For now, the rest could wait.

  The Lair   -   00:35:00 and counting

Time stops for no man, people often said, and the same could be said for women. Never mind that Amber's cantankerous counterpart was staying in the Lair for the weekend…lurking around every corner…stinking up the place with her perfume…just waiting for a chance to bitch-slap Amber back into her place at the bottom of the food chain…

Amber shuddered at the thought and firmly shoved it into the back of her mind. Kimber Bryant made Amber all kinds of nervous but her presence didn't excuse Amber from her chores. There was too much to do—laundry to put away, studying to do, dinner to prepare— Something soft and furry brushed against her calf, startling her from her thoughts. "Right," she muttered as Kirk bypassed the laundry basket at her feet and hopped up onto Donnie's bed. "Gotta clean the litterboxes an' feed Kirkland too." After a mrrruhl of warning and a superfluous butt-wiggle said feline launched himself right into a pile of folded undergarments and began viciously mauling a sock big enough to double as an oven mitt. As he lay on his side, wrapped around the sock and kicking like a homicidal kangaroo, Amber sighed and shook her head in whimsical defeat. After how much she'd missed him she couldn't really be upset with the little murder-machine; cats, after all, would be cats, and socks could be darned.

"It's inevitable, Kirk," she teased as she hung a pair of patched canvas trousers in the frame-and-fabric 'closet.' "You're just gonna have to get used to sharing me with Donnie. I know I'm Mom but he's mine - you can't resent him forever." With an adorable cotton-muffled urrrr, Kirk glared at her over a mouthful of beige knit as if to say watch me. Ah, the jealousy of spoiled cats.

"Honestly, I'm lucky to have Donnie," she added to herself, doubts and worries filling her thoughts between wire hangers. Back before the dream connection was confirmed—before Donatello confronted her with his old Tonfa and confessed the name of her dead classmate—Amber could fool herself he wasn't the same Donnie she grew up with. She could tell herself that he didn't know all her dirty little secrets. He didn't watch her fall apart over the last few years of her life, partly from illness and her and partly from depression and apathy. He never heard how her poor choices in college may have led to the death of a classmate. He never knew she routinely slaked her carnal needs in impersonal encounters so her time with him in dreams could be focused on more important things than her hormones. If this Donnie wasn't her Donnie, then the mistakes of her past were only a secret to keep.

The problem was…now she knew this was her Donnie…and by the sounds of it, he remembered everything. Amber paused, fondling a strip of worn purple fabric. Even after countless washings, every one of those masks smelled strongly of his oddly comforting blend of coffee, machinery, musky exertion, and spice. "How can he even look at me, Kirk?" Amber murmured into the sweet-smelling fabric. "I screwed up with him so many times…I gave up on him, I – I gave myself up to other guys…how doesn't he hate me by now?"

This last question seemed the most perplexing. Sure, the purpose of those impersonal booty-calls was to shut up her hormones so her scant time with Donnie could be put to better use, but she always regretted them afterward. Regret, though, didn't count if a person intentionally committed the same crime over and over again, and she was guilty—guilty of closing her eyes, mentally replacing the other men with Donnie, and crying herself to sleep after they left. Regret was a weak word, really; what she felt wasn't weak. After all the time she spent hating herself for the infidelity, the idea that Donnie didn't hate her for it made no sense.

The dead silence tore her from her ruminations; odd, considering Kirk had a habit of 'answering' her every time she spoke.## After a quick glance at the bed, it was all she could do to keep from laughing. The little furball was out cold, wrapped around her favorite bra and snoring into one generous cup. The battered sock sprawled on the floor half under the bed—the enemy was vanquished. Chuckling at the absurdity, Amber crouched to retrieve the sock but paused when she noticed something wedged between the mattress and box spring. A warped silver wire binding, traces of green beyond the rings…surely she was mistaken, but it wouldn't hurt to check…right?

Amber tugged the notebook loose and promptly cringed in recognition. It was her journal, the one she hadn't written in for months then misplaced. Why was it jammed under the mattress like a nudie magazine? Curiosity drove her to investigate and she quickly discovered the litany of notes scribbled upside-down in the back. She quickly lost herself in the writing—questions and memories, hopes and fears Donatello couldn't bring himself to share with her, all centered around their years apart. Though she didn't dig too deeply, there wasn't a single word of blame or judgment anywhere—nothing that indicated resentment or disgust. Amber almost missed the sheet of loose-leaf that slipped out and fluttered to the floor—almost. The pencil-scribbled contents might have made her stumble if she hadn't already seated herself before. "I met my lover in a dream," she whispered in recognition.^ "That poem…I thought I lost it...I guess Donnie found it?" Soon enough, she hit the final lines:

Mibbe someday he will see –     Someday the truth I'll tell. For now, I've only memories,     And dreams I shot tae Hell.

Or, rather, those should have been the final lines—they were the last she wrote. Someone, however, clearly thought the poem wasn't finished and added their own verse…in pen…neatly printed by a familiar hand straddling the border between calculating and persnickety. "No way," Amber muttered thickly as she scanned the added verse, wide-eyed and breathless. "Naw fookin' way!"~ No matter how she protested, the words remained clear, impossible yet obvious. Still marveling at their presence—and at the subtext—she never heard the soft ticking of a distant clock, or the even softer inhale accompanying.

Dreams can sometimes fall apart,     And memories can fade. The truth you shared can't change my heart…     Your lover-friend I've stayed…

I'll see you in our dreams.  

There was no stopping it, no holding back: Amber crushed the paper to her pounding heart in elation. He remembered. He understood. He loved. Perhaps, even…he forgave?

Sometimes emotions are too powerful for words; fortunately for Amber, squealing unintelligibly required none.

UP NEXT: (Currently in-progress)

Chapter List

- The vital signs monitor – At first I wasn't quite sure if such a device was on the public market, at least aside from 'smart' devices like FitBit and such, so I did what I do best: I researched the fuck out of it for funzies. Turns out there are more varieties out there than I expected, each monitoring different signs in different fashions and to different accuracy levels. Since Donnie's never been the sort to simply COPY others' ideas, we can safely assume he's combined the best of several devices. The result is a small electronic monitor [about the size of a 9-volt battery] hung from the neck by a lanyard, which measures core body temp by way of leads attached to an adhesive-backed electrode stuck in the armpit. We can also assume fitting the device on Kimber was incredibly awkward because she intentionally MADE IT awkward.

* Full statement including what Amber's snoring cut off: "Ya be'n 'way too long 'gain, ya sook—nae be'n by fer a nip'er a bosie. Wha's a lass ta think?" – This little bit of Scotchness is a routine in-dream tease from Amber. You've been gone [from our dreams] too long again, you old softy—you haven't even come by for a kiss or cuddle. What's a woman to think?

** Man-Fritters – Alas, I cannot claim authorship of this little snigger-inducing euphemism. That honor belongs to author Mimi Jean Pampfiloff in her Accidentally Yours series. While the first two books were pretty recipe [if you know what I mean] they were HILARIOUS recipes. I'm not ashamed to admit that the scene in the first one where the heroine belts out 80's pop hits to keep sane made me laugh so hard I spewed my tea, CHOKED ON IT, then spent the rest of the day CROAKING. It was WORTH IT. (That said, the author also used a lovely little nonsense-word coined by my IRL friend Autumn back when we were in high school but didn't notate it. I'd encourage Autumn to stop starting word trends without first seeking a copyright but that'd mean I'd have to pay her every time I stole her stuff, heh.)

Also: Abby has no accent. She's intentionally warping the Oh, Hell no! in hopes of showing Mercy just how upset the news makes her.

# Implied smut – The encounter referenced here didn't make it to in-story occurrence BUT it took place during the Absolutes arc, which took up too much time-and-space for the intended back-and-forth between worlds. It's written up and included in the "Gallery of Memories" as The Blonde and the Beefcake and it can be found HERE.) It's almost entirely lemon, BTW. ;P

## Kirk tends to 'answer' Amber every time she talks to him – I am SO not basing this on our cat Heiferlump. Nope, not at all! …fine. Yes. Heifer responds to EVERYTHING she hears, no matter who says it, and it's rare to find someone she can't bait into answering back. She's particularly adept at getting my father to argue with her and routinely tries to argue with the microwave beeper. O_o It's awesome.

^ The Poem, "Dream Lovers" – I've not posted the entirety of the poem in any chapters or even the GoM installment of the same name. NOW, however, you can find the entire poem in comic format HERE, on this story's Here on Tumblr, OR on DeviantArt. The comic includes Donnie's additions and a small blurb of backstory leading to this scene, and the Tumblr/AO3 posts include a glossary for the many odd words used in the poem. For convenience's sake, I've included the translation of the included verse below.

Again, since Tumblr’s decided to be an ass about wordblock limits, see FFnet or AO3 for the glossary if anything throws you off.

#TMNT #teenage mutant ninja turtles #Ninja Turtles #TMNT Fanfiction #Fanfiction #Donatello #Raphael #Leonardo #Michelangelo #Donnie/OC #Raph/OC #Leo/OC #Mikey/OC #Romance #Drama #Hurt/Comfort #PTSD #Non-Sue OCs #A New Lease on Life #ANLoL #Get-a-new-lease-on-life #Plot Twists

[mybravesong]

Fundraising Update

Hello from sunny Singapore. It’s been about 3 weeks since we started fundraising for the School of Evangelism. In total, we’re around 1/4 of $10,000 goal. In 3 weeks!! Can you believe it? I really want to pause here and give a shout out to many who are championing what God is doing in and through me. I can only response with deep gratitude towards God and towards you. I do love to be transparent about amounts I’m getting from sales + donations so I’ve put up a dashboard here: https://www.thedash.com/dashboard/Nk949Jax6

I know people are asking why fundraise? why not just work? I 100% totally understand that. I too found that it would be easier to just work and raise the money myself and believe me, I very much wanted to. But haha as you know, 

Isaiah 55:8-9 “For my thoughts are not your thoughts,  neither are your ways my ways,” declares the Lord.

 “As the heavens are higher than the earth,    so are my ways higher than your ways    and my thoughts than your thoughts.

God had other plans. He said, “No, I want you to fundraise. I don’t want this to be about what you can do and accomplish by yourself. But I want this to be about relationship - relationship with Me and relationship with others. I want you to collab with others.”. With much trembling, I said - ok God, I will take a step of obedience and fundraise. What happened afterwards was nothing short of amazing. God brought alongside people. I didn’t ask but He just brought people. People who were filled with excitement for God to work, who were inspired by Him. GOD DESERVES ALL THE GLORY AND ALL THE PRAISE FOR THIS. Words cannot express the encouragement I’ve felt as you’ve all avail yourselves to partner with us on this ride of a lifetime - from the Adult Zone to Friends and Family (if I could I would name all of you!!!). You continue to spur me on towards Christ and His purposes. It’s been nothing short of crazy and I am humbled by your love, encouragement and generosity.

What have you been up to? As some of you know, I am currently in Singapore. Why am I in Singapore while my friends and family are holding the fort in Perth? That is yet another interesting story on it’s own. On the day I returned home, I received a letter from the Singapore government to renounce my Singapore citizenship! Honestly, I love love Singapore to bits - I’m what you called patriotic. Love the people, love the food, just love this country! To give it up was such a hard hard thing to do but God reminded me just before I went to sleep, “Lynn, remember your identity isn’t tied to a country.”. I woke up the next day and remembered an experience I had during my discipleship training school. This was the experience. DAY 64 Saturday (8 Sept)

I woke up around 7.30am? God wanted me to go to swan River. I didn’t want to (because it was about an hr before breakfast, I was feeling lazy and it looked like it was gonna rain) but He really wanted me to go so I got ready and went.  As I was walking I was singing the song he is the light light light light of the world. All throughout, it was cloudy but you could see the sun was just very bright behind the clouds. When I got to the swan River, I stood and waited. I looked down and suddenly I heard shouts from the river. It was a bunch of people rowing in a boat and the coach shouting directions in a speedboat next to it.

They paused in the middle of the river and I thought they were gonna turn back but the coach was talking to the rowers (there were 2 sets of them). Then they went further down the river. I walked a little further and sat at a bench, then I saw a train and it looked like the Singapore train and God asked me if I would lay down my identity as Singaporean and I said I have but he said not entirely and I said it’ll be hard but I’ll let it go if You want me to. As I got up from the bench, the sun came out at that same timing and the sky was just suddenly clear and the sun shined so brightly and as I walked up the stairs back on the path back to the base, God said I am the light of the world (I felt the warmth of the sun on my back) and he said just like the coach was with the rowers each step of the way, I am with You. You know what you must do.

At the time, I had thought that God wanted me to go into missions but He is so kind. He’s asked me about letting go my citizenship before I even saw the letter. He is so gentle and good. I checked the date in which the government had sent the letter and it was the exact same week I had this experience. It was so clear, He wanted me to give it up. Who was I to refuse Him? Who was I to say no to the one who loves me the most? I said, “ok God I’ll do it.. in April.” I thought, I’d do it but I’ll do it when it would be most convenient in April(I’d be back for my cousin’s wedding and stopover in Singapore) but God was taking it one step further, He said I want you to walk in activeness and not in passivity. He wanted me to go to Singapore as soon as I could to get it done. At that moment I told Him, are you kidding me? I don’t have the money God, how? This was His answer. When I was having a meal with my family, I suddenly remembered - my sisters(my sweetie pies) had decided together that for my birthday in Dec 2018, they’d give a total of $300 just for the specific use of flight travel. The amount I needed was $298 so it just covered it with $2 to spare. Wow, He had already known. God is so good. 

So, here I am now in a tiny red dot near the equator. This is what I’ve been up to so far, I’ve since renounced my citizenship and had to opportunity to partner with my good friend - Jamie in JB in macaroon making. She prayed about it and decided to give me part of the proceeds. LIKE WHUTT?! It was something unexpected.

Jamie and I (she makes bomb macaroons!! follow her at @jaeybakes on instagram)

Did a little semi-babysitting (they’re cute)

I’ve also got the chance to spend time with my extended family! God is truly good. If I’d not listen to His prompting, I’d have miss out on moments like these! <3

my grandpa, (Really thank God for sustaining him in health!) , my aunty and I

My cousins & I - gosh I miss this bunch of humans.

My cousin Teri and I

On top of that, I’ve had so many opportunities to share what Christ is doing and to encourage others in their walk with God (especially over chinese new year). It’s been so good catching up with all my aunties and uncles!! I’m thinking over all these moments and I’m just amazed at how God is orchestrating this! This has no means been an easy 3 weeks. There are days where I am still filled with doubt, but the best part of God’s nature is - doubts will always come but He CONSTANTLY without fail reassures the direction He has called us to take - through people, through His word. I’m amazed and so thankful! I love that what He said in DTS remains true, that He is with me wherever I go. His love is so comforting, so reassuring and so BIG! This is the God that came down to die for us, the God that said, I’ve traded your sins for my blessings. What an honour it is to serve Him!

I just want to take a moment and encourage you. Perhaps you’re in a bit of a situation yourself, you’re surrounded by doubts about the future, look to Him. He is able to supply your every need! :) His love is constant and He does not shift like shadows, no matter your circumstance. If there’s anything I can keep you in prayer for - drop me a message! I’ll be happy to!!

Please also do continue to uphold the fundraising and my time in Singapore in prayer. :)

#jesus #ywamperth #fundraising #singapore #cny2019

[liebesyhhra]

ramadhan goals!

Bismillaah

this is super belated considering we are already into the last ten nights of Ramadhan, but better late than never :’) this post is inspired by my teacher, Teacher A! she’s such an amazing person i look up to so much and her beautiful personality never fails to put the people around her at ease. so much love <3

dear teacher A,

when we discussed about our ramadhan goals a week before we welcomed the blessed month, i wasn’t lying when i said mine was to survive. deep-seated fears and anxiousness surrounding the blessed month always gnawed at me on days leading up to ramadhan. but when you started sharing your ramadhan goals and relating your previous ramadhans, it sparked in me to try and open up my heart and mind to set some proper goals for myself. it made me realise that each ramadhan (or each day, for that matter) is a new chance to right things, and to live it better :)

so here are my goals!

to read the qur’an daily

finish reading two borrowed books

watch all 30 videos of quran weekly’s ramadhan quran reflections and do some of my own pondering

try my best to be better as a daughter

pray 2 rakaat of sunnah rawatib for subuh

pray terawih each night

set aside some funds for sadaqah

it may seem small and things that are normal for a person to commit to in ramadhan....i’m happy enough to have come up with these goals. although i have lots to make up for the previous ramadhan (and year haha), i don’t think forcing myself to exponentially increase acts of worship and good deeds would carry on well with me in the long run. the spiritual burnout is real, moreover i would hate to do something for the sake of just doing it without keeping in mind the sole purpose - for the love of my God and His pleasure.

alhamdulillah, these goals give me enough sense of purpose to give my best each day, without overwhelming myself too much. i hope to be consistent with all my ibadah and continue to better myself in all aspects! 

i hope to treat the month as a madrasah for tarbiah. an institution to train and educate myself. with the contagious atmosphere of people engaging and advocating for everything good, it’s a constant supply of good vibes and semangat to do good too. to me, and to the people around me. this month i’ve learned to get by each day on its own, without agonising over the past...or the future. there’s probably much to look forward in the future, but i’m gonna take this living thingy at a comfortable pace for now hahahhaha!11111111111111111 

i really hope to bid this blessed month goodbye on a good (albeit sad) note. this rather micro yet mega space i’ve allowed myself to grow means a lot to me, and i thank Allah for the strength and patience to see myself through each day. i really hope syawal and the subsequent months will spare me some more space to grow and improve myself too (though not horizontally please!!! dem ketupats and kuihsss). 

looking at updates, sharing and reflections from the people around never fails to inspire me. looking at others putting in so much effort and hard work in their daily and nightly (!!!) lives awes me (looking @ u, teacher :]]). may Allah reward all of you abundantly! continuous goodness till syawal, and the next ramadhan and beyond insyaAllah!

dear teacher A, thank you for initiating this topic of conversation a few weeks back. i hope your goals have been going well! jazaakillaah khairal jazaa’! i have not properly thanked you, and can never thank you enough. so blessed to have known you alhamdulillah! 

semoga Allah redha

with lots of love,

<3

#ramadan #ramadhan goals

[bryonysimcox]

Thoughts on Mindfulness, Onions and Jealousy: Week 10, Spain

It’s hard to fathom that we’ve entered double digits as I count the weeks we’ve been living away from the UK, and even harder to fathom the coronavirus crisis that the world continues to face. This week, I explore mindfulness, barbequed spring onions and the evils of jealousy.

The last week of March has brought both sunshine and rain here in Catalonia. Sunday was glorious, and the warm rays of sun felt like nature’s invitation to take the afternoon off from film editing and staring at screens. Even I, who usually finds it hard to ‘just’ chill out, responded to this invitation and slowed right down, sipping cheap Spanish lager and whiling the day away with a good book. By contrast, there have been numerous days of solid rain here too. Temperatures have dropped and George and I remain huddled inside, wrapped in layers and eternally grateful to have a house to stay in throughout lockdown.

It looks like the weather in the UK has been pretty glorious. It’s sod’s law that after a long winter, when Brits are finally ready to get out and about, everyone is required to stay at home and can only see and admire the sunshine from afar.

This state of lockdown is undoubtedly a reminder of our need to access nature, especially for those who are living in urban areas and apartments.

The flipside to the restrictions, of course, is that reduced travel and activity means reduced carbon emissions and pollutants. Like many others, my heart has been lifted by photos of Venice’s canals which now run clear, satellite imagery and data showing dramatically reduced air pollution in major cities, or sound recordings of magnificent birdsong made audible thanks to minimal traffic. Similarly, whilst I’m not a huge fan of the rain, it’s a real blessing here in Catalonia, a region which is often very dry. The land around us in the cottage is looking more luscious than ever, and the rain is doing wonders for the green beans, olives, herbs and spring onions (or ‘calcots’, but more on them later) which grow here.

(images) Mother nature’s gifts.

I’ve been feeling infinitely more connected to nature while living in lockdown. Not necessarily because we’re staying in the countryside, though that helps, but perhaps because I’m increasingly aware of my dependence on it. The natural world (which we often forget were a part of) provides us with the sustenance we need to survive, and I can’t help but feel like empty supermarket shelves in the UK are a symbol of how disconnected people are to where food actually comes from, and the supply chain which starts with mother nature.

Nature is not only essential as a source of food but as a source of energy from which we nurture our minds.

The alarming spread of coronavirus and its devastating and far-reaching effects threaten to overwhelm me. As I mentioned in last week’s post, I constantly feel at the edge of this overwhelm, ready to be swept under by the noise and chaos of news headlines which just keep getting worse. In an active effort to address these feelings without adopting a ‘keep calm and carry on’ approach of outright avoidance, I have started to practice mindfulness, using breathwork techniques from Gaba Podcast’s daily sessions.

Nature has become a central part of my amateur mindfulness practice, as it provides a constant calming presence in the now on which to focus. Simple things in the natural world have proven incredibly grounding, like the cycle from day to night, the passing of clouds across the sky, the sound of little birds scuffling across the roof of the cottage and the fresh aroma of soil after it’s rained. Of course these elements don’t erase the existence of Covid-19 and the lives it is both threatening and taking, but they provide a counterweight to the noise and anticipatory grief that I’m experiencing.

(images) Stuff can get pretty overwhelming at the moment, so the natural world has become a steadfast element on which to rest my focus.

I have also been thinking about the way in which nature is not just a resource to be taken from, for our wellbeing and our existence, but something to give back to. I’ve been inspired by so many people I follow online, and their mutual apprehension that this could be a pivotal point of change for the world. Their shared thoughts and musings suppose that we might move away from our addiction with consumption and competition, and towards more regenerative cultures. Friend and ex-colleague, Adam Russell, has written a fantastic summary of ten books worth reading if you’re interested in regenerative cultures and living in harmony with the planet. The summary can be found at the Saltbush Projects website, which documents the pretty cool journey that Adam and his family are taking in suburban Australia, of growing food, making things and living more simply. Adam’s project is one of a few which are inspiring George and I to shape up our own dreams for a self-sustaining lifestyle and off-grid house.

Amid panic, paranoia and overwhelm, I am optimistic about a different future in which equality, sustainability and community emerge as the shared values by which we live.

Unlike the accounts of our adventures before lockdown, I don’t have much to report on a day-by-day basis. Back during our time in France and our initial month in Spain it felt as though every day was rammed with new experiences and places that George and I had visited in the van! Now though, the days start to merge into one, and I have lost my usual motivation to spring out of bed and into action. I try not to beat myself up about it, and in fact have leaned into the ‘not-knowing’ of the future and the monotony of the present. I trust that one day, somehow, our travels will continue, and try to reaffirm the motto “I’m exactly where I need to be” even when it can feel super frustrating that all life plans are on hold for the time being.

(images, left to right) Layered up in lockdown as it rains outside, watching a live stream DJ set from England complete with visuals created (live, too) remotely by my brother in Scotland!, and slowing down and soaking up the sun on Sunday.

The monotony of the present has also allowed for me to reflect inwardly. I think a crisis of the magnitude that the world currently faces puts certain things into perspective, and after another week filled with skype calls and catch-ups, I don’t think I’m alone in my increase in philosophical thoughts. The insecurities of weight gain, obsessions with career progression, anticipation for planned holidays, fixations with buying new things and other everyday thoughts shared amongst my friends and I now seem like petty hiccups in the grand scheme of life.

Food, friends, our health and shared prosperity feel like the only things that matter anymore.

On that note, I’ve been thinking about jealousy - a strange and ugly emotion that I have grappled with for years. In last week’s post I talked about my shifting relationship with social media in recent weeks, and the possibility that sharing things like photos and status updates can be perceived as insensitive, and perhaps even trigger jealousy. Whilst it could have seemed that I was referring to jealousy induced by the things that I post, I have also been thinking about my own jealousy, and taking a tiny step back from Instagram and Facebook has been part of that.

As a child, I remember being preoccupied with other people’s looks and achievements. I think at one point I even claimed to my mum that I wanted to be my best friend! That jealous streak is something which has filtered through my life, and it’s probably only in the last five years that I really feel like I’ve faced up to it. Jealousy is horrible for so many reasons, but for me, not only did it make me feel rubbish but it also impeded my ability to be happy for others. Instead of relishing in shared pride for a friend or family member’s success or good fortune, that success would become a cruel tool to devalue myself. It would push my focus away from them, and back onto me, leaving me both as a crap friend and a selfish individual.

(Image) I’ve grappled with jealous over the years, a muddy and confusing emotion that threatens your ability to reflect on yourself and others.

This period of lockdown feels like a closing chapter for me in addressing jealousy, which is perhaps why I’m sharing it even if it seems personal, in the hope that it may be of use to someone else.

When I say ‘closing chapter’, it’s not as though jealousy will never rear its ugly head again, because of course it will. But the common cause of tackling this horrible virus has been a trigger for me to consolidate what I’ve been practicing these last five years: to turn jealousy around into more constructive feelings, like pride and admiration for others, and aspiration or contentment for myself. All that said, it is really hard to find coherent words to explain my relationship with jealousy, and I do not at all profess to be immune to it! I only hope that I can continue to address it head on, rather than suppress it and let it eat away at me.

On the topic of eating, food has become a crucial part of mentally surviving lockdown! George and I have been cherishing the opportunity to take longer to cook, to experiment with new recipes, and even new ingredients (if we can find them in the tightly controlled supermarkets). I know we’re not alone in this, and have heard stories of friends’ first homemade loaf of bread, experiments with pickling and fermentation, making pasta by hand and brewing beer at home. By cooking and eating more slowly, I think we are also showing our appreciation to nature, and re-assigning value to a ritual intrinsic to humanity.

Calçots, as I mentioned at the start, have been a magical little food discovery for the two of us. A type of green onion renowned in Catalonia, calçots are best cooked on an open fire. After letting them crisping up for five minutes, you peel the blackened outer skin off to reveal a sweet and juicy inner, which when dipped in romesco sauce, is absolutely delicious.

(images, left to right) Calçots in the garden, roasting over a fire, and ready for dipping in sauce.

The sauce, known as ‘Salsa de Calçots’, can be made at home with blanched almonds, hot peppers, garlic, tomatoes and olive oil, but we actually picked some up in the supermarket. A few nights this week, we’ve had the pleasure of cooking calçots like this, and not only do they taste incredible, but they’re messy, fun and super simple.

While it could sound ridiculous, small experiences like cooking fresh spring onions on an open fire have transcended into special, almost spiritual moments of communion for me. I believe we need these glimpses of normality and conviviality to survive what is an extreme and scary time.

As it sinks in that we could all be living like this for a while now, let’s not forget to look after ourselves and others. Rather than settle for judgement and jealousy, I am trying to equip myself with kindness and compassion, a choice inspired by the nurses and doctors, farmers and supermarket workers, respirator-makers and scrubs-sewers, soup kitchen volunteers and careworkers, newly-appointed homeschoolers and online mindfulness coaches.

These people give me hope.

#traveldiaries #SuziTheVan #BryonyandGeorge #digitalnomads #lifeinlockdown #covid-19 #coronavirus #estadodealarma #overlandadventures #vanlife #hiacevan #toyotahiace

[its-love-u-asshole]

Let My Love [Ch. 1]

Pairings: Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei

Summary: For Kuroo, finding love was all about patience. He had no problem with waiting for the right person to come along, no matter how many awkward dinners or weddings he had to endure as a single man until they did. Regardless, meeting Tsukishima was something he’d never been prepared for. The feelings were overwhelming and intoxicating, ones he was sure he’d do anything for. However, it seemed his endless waiting wasn’t over. 

Rating: T 

Warnings: none

Note: haha...I started another multichapter -sweats- I’m excited for this though, it’s a bit different from the stuff I usually write and will have some other storylines so it’s definitely a challenge for me! I like the idea a lot though, so I’ll try to update as much as possible before school starts <3 Enjoy! Thanks to @emeraldwaves​ and @amajikies for reading this over! 

AO3

Kuroo’s hands typed steadily, the words and phrases beginning to read more like gibberish in his mind instead of proper sentences. Not to mention he missed a letter every now and again due to his sleep deprived brain, resulting in atrocious typos he was in no mood to fix. His fingers stopped suddenly, eyes uselessly scanning over the blurry letters and science formulas. Obviously, writing this article was a little beyond his comprehension level right now.

That, and the fact he could barely focus on any of his older cousin’s words through the phone were probably good signs he needed caffeine. However, upon rolling out of bed, the energy to actually go to his kitchen and rectify the situation had been quickly drained out of him when he noticed his phone light up.

He couldn’t explain it exactly, but Kuroo felt he had a sixth sense at times when it came to reading the mood of a certain situation or day. This particular day, it was dread he sensed, like the universe was willing him to not pick up the phone. Kuroo thought he could just let it ring, as he did with most calls, but when Semi’s name and photo appeared clear as day on screen, he knew he had no choice but to answer.

It was far too early for this.

Kuroo rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, grimacing at the grainy bits of sand he caught on his fingers as he leaned back in his chair, defeated. “A lake house? You want to rent a lake house?”

Semi’s all too innocent voice drifted smoothly through the phone, the voice of someone who had probably been up for hours already. Jerk. “Yeah, Kenjiro thought—”

“Don’t implicate me in this,” a flat, much grumpier voice called from somewhere in the background, and Kuroo couldn’t help but laugh at Semi’s grunt of disapproval.

At least he could always count on Shirabu to keep things real with him, no matter how blunt he could be. How someone as considerate and polite as Semi managed to fall in love with the crown prince of callousness, Kuroo would never know.

Of course, he knew that was an exaggeration, but like hell was he going to point out how perfect the two were together when they were literally trying to drag him on some ridiculous adventure.

“Fine,” Semi continued, his sigh long and surrendering. “I thought it would be nice for all of us to get together for a week. It’s been a long time, and god knows a lot of us work too hard. A vacation seemed like a good idea.”

“All of us? Like…all of us?” At that, Kuroo found himself a bit more awake.

Semi had a point, Kuroo worked himself like a dog writing for the science magazine, though he wasn’t afraid to say he loved his job. It was the best, writing about the things and discoveries which fascinated him, and it even meant he could work from home. However, it could get to him, being all cooped up. The thought of going to a lake house with all his closest friends sounded like a dream. But while he could admit a vacation wasn’t a terrible idea, the well-mannered part of him couldn’t stand for Semi’s grandiose gesture of friendship.

“Yes Kuroo, all of us,” Semi said, his tone practically the vocal equivalent of an eye roll. “Stop trying to act like I’ll be feeding an army, it’s nine people.”

“That’s a lot of rooms too…”

“Only six rooms, married couples tend to sleep together you know,” Semi said, voice smug as if he’d already won the argument. Ah yes, the other problem…

“It’s still expensive Semi, and wait…nine people?” Kuroo grabbed a stray pen on his desk, wincing when some of the ink leaked through the pen cap and onto his hand. He needed new office supplies…

Without waiting for a response, he grabbed a random notepad and began to work it out in his head. There was him, and then there was Semi and Shirabu (duh Tetsurou), Oikawa, Yachi, Kyoutani, Yahaba, and finally Terushima. At the thought of his eccentric, fun loving cousin, Kuroo couldn’t help but smile. He, Semi, and Kuroo had grown up together, forced to attend family events and reunions where they would of course wander off and get into trouble. He looked down at the names, feeling a surge of nostalgia at how much he missed them. Seeing everyone again would be nice…

Still, he was seeing eight.

“I’m a professional athlete Kuroo, I…make more than enough money,” Semi informed softly, clearing his throat right after. Kuroo snorted to himself, of course Semi would feel bad about seemingly bragging about his income. Riches hadn’t changed him in the slightest, and it made Kuroo miss him all the more. “And oh yeah, Teru apparently has a new boyfriend, so he’ll be coming. Apparently our dear cousin really likes this one.”

Of course he does.

The news was enough to bring out a wry smile onto Kuroo’s face. Terushima had introduced them all to a handful of potential beaus and babes in the past, but none had ever made the final cut. He hoped this one was different. As picky and ridiculous as his younger cousin could be, he deserved to be happy.

But that didn’t mean Kuroo couldn’t make fun of him. In fact, he could make fun of a lot of the people he considered family too.

“Oikawa isn’t bringing his one true love? He sure talks about him enough,” Kuroo said, making a mental note to call the brunet at some point; it had been a while. In the background, he could hear Shirabu scoff and hum in agreement.

“Iwaizumi is still away at grad school abroad, otherwise I’m sure Oikawa would insist,” Semi said with barely concealed amusement. “But anyways, stop avoiding the question. Will you come? The house has Wi-Fi so don’t even think of using work as an excuse.”

Kuroo couldn’t hold back his wince, Semi sure did know him well. It wasn’t like Kuroo was actively trying to get out of going though, really, the whole idea sounded like a lot of fun. It was just—

Semi made an undignified squawk on the other end of the call, and before Kuroo knew it, Shirabu’s cutting voice was ringing through his ears. “Stop bullshitting him Kuroo, we all know you just don’t wanna go because you hate being the only single person there.”

The words were like ice, quickly traveling through his body and veins until he was frozen over completely, the pen dropping from his hand and clattering onto the desk. Kuroo clutched the phone tighter, knowing he’d been caught.

Well damn.

“K-Kenjiro! You don’t need to be so rude…” Semi sounded distant, voice fading in and out of clarity as if he was physically having to wrestle the phone away from his husband.

“Well it’s true!”

“Why would that matter to Kuroo? He’s not like that,” Semi said with a final strain to the end of his statement, his breath heavy from finally having won the phone back. “Um…right? Kuroo?”

Kuroo winced again, and that was all Shirabu needed to hum triumphantly. Bastard. How Kuroo had been friends with both of them since the baby daycare days perplexed him. Either way, it meant they knew him well enough, and someone with no tact like Shirabu was more than happy to point it out. Bless Semi, that poor soul.

It wasn’t like Kuroo was upset he was the only single person in their friend group (well, aside from Yachi, but no one gave her the same crap they gave Kuroo).  He wasn’t envious, not in the slightest. It was simply annoying. Every time he’d meet up with his friends or family, it always came back to who he was dating. Or well, who and why he wasn’t dating. Kuroo was pretty good looking, had a well-paying and steady job, and was all around a charismatic guy. As a college student, he’d go on dates all the time, hook-ups, blind dates, kissing booths, whatever. Girls and guys liked him, loved him even. He just hadn’t found someone he loved back.

After a while, he’d gotten tired of just sleeping around or breaking hearts when he knew he had no intention of making a life with any of the people he dated. What was the point in dating just for the sake of it? So, he’d stopped. Kuroo had promised himself he’d only get involved in relationships if he could see himself falling in love, if there was a real connection. So far, there hadn’t been, and he was more than content with that. Falling in love and getting married was definitely something he wanted sure, but he wanted it with the right person, and he had no problem waiting.

His friends disagreed.

“Well, see…you guys don’t exactly leave me alone about that stuff,” Kuroo admitted sheepishly, slumping when he heard Semi’s indignant gasp.

“That’s not true! When have we ever done that?”

At that, Kuroo couldn’t help but give a dry laugh.

Well, never. Directly.

But Kuroo could count how many odd looks he’d gotten at Semi and Shirabu’s wedding, and it had started a trend. An awful trend. It was always ‘Semi seems really happy as a married man’ from his mother, or ‘when are you gonna find that lucky someone, Tetsu?’ from his dad. Then there was Oikawa’s constant nagging, or Yachi’s well-meaning but awkward questioning.

And then it had gone further downhill, because all his friends started to settle down, which made his singleness seem amplified by fifty percent--it was like he was a walking pity party. Oikawa had a date every weekend it seemed, never short of suitors. Then Iwaizumi came into his life, and Oikawa had never been happier. Terushima was the same, albeit with a bit more drama and still no permanent relationship, but it seemed that was changing too. Hell, Kyoutani and Yahaba had basically been in love since middle school, and their wedding had been the previous year.

(Kuroo was specifically sat at the table nearest the bar at that wedding, right next to the singles table. Nothing was more depressing. So yeah, lots of fun.)

“You guys realize that everyone outside of our group sees me as the lonely troll under the relationship bridge right?” Kuroo deadpanned, trying to restrain his laughter when dead silence was heard on the other line. “Say, why doesn’t anyone get on Yachi’s case for this?”

Shirabu was quick to answer. “Because she’s a peppy independent woman, and you’re a loser.”

“Kenjiro.”

“Just consider coming Kuroo, it’s not a big deal,” Shirabu said finally, and the sudden softness actually made Kuroo perk up. “If you really think the attention will be a problem, bring someone. Or don’t. Whatever. You know we’ll all drag you there anyways…”

The last statement was said in a whisper, and Kuroo could practically tell Shirabu was glaring at the phone. Shirabu was actually trying to comfort him, and it was pissing him off. What a nerd.

Kuroo smiled, the implied ‘we miss you’ in Shirabu’s words having not gone undetected. His chest felt warmer than it had in weeks, and his only regret was that it was the feisty ex-setter who had delivered the final blow. Damn, what did he do to deserve these wonderful idiots?

“You know I’m waiting for the right person, but I’ll keep an eye out,” Kuroo said with a grin.

“You do that Kuroo,” Shirabu deadpanned, and shortly after, Semi cleared his throat.

“So…you’ll come? You have about a month to decide but…” Semi trailed off, and he was probably doing that thing where he bit his lip or stuck out his tongue from nervousness. Just like back when they were kids…

Kuroo laughed, the sleepiness from earlier having fully melted away. “Yeah, sure.”

After all, he couldn’t let his biggest fans down. What would they do for a whole week without his puns and knowledge of newly founded scientific theories?

Kuroo couldn’t help but smirk. This time, he’d have all the fun.

“Great,” Semi breathed out finally, texting Kuroo the details as if he’d been waiting to the whole time. He probably had been.

There was a comfortable silence that followed as Kuroo looked over dates of the vacation, and as he was about to hang up, Shirabu spoke up for the last time, voice smug and mocking.

“So…when are you gonna get married Kuroo, you’re getting kind of old don’t you think?”

Kuroo answered with the dial tone.

--

Hoping to be productive, Kuroo made plans to go to the library the next day. If he was going to go on this trip, he wanted to get a head start on next month’s article. It was better to have most of it done now than to spend most of the vacation worrying about it.

However, as he walked up the stone steps to the library’s revolving doors, he couldn’t help but feel out of place and jittery. It was stupid, considering all the other times he worked at the library, and how usually it provided him with a motivational and quiet environment. Today just wasn’t his day it seemed.

Kuroo would be up for a promotion soon—so these next two articles, one of which was finished, had to be perfect. That was stressful enough, but more than anything, he couldn’t help but find himself flustered over the phone call with Semi from the previous day. Maybe it was general excitement at the thought of seeing all his friends again, but the dread from before was still there.

Kuroo hated to admit it, but maybe the whole being single thing was getting to him more than he thought. He was twenty-seven, almost twenty-eight, and by no means old. Hell, with his looks and health, he was in the prime of his life. There was no need to worry about him finding a potential partner anytime soon, and it wasn’t something he wanted to rush.

Of course, that hadn’t stopped his brain from giving him nightmares about dying alone. What a good night he’d had.

Sighing, Kuroo happily stepped into the library, inhaling the comforting scent of books and printer ink which always brought him solace. After college, the library became his new most visited place after the volleyball court, a place he could sit in all day and get lost in his imagination and thirst for knowledge. It was perfect, and he couldn’t wait to get started on his research for the magazine’s article.

Luck was, apparently, not on his side.

The collection of computers usually provided by the library as databases were all turned off, with sheets of paper taped to each one. Already cursing the day, but never one to be negative, Kuroo walked over to them. The papers said what he’d expected, that the computers were out of order, and to go to a library attendant if people needed help finding the books. Glancing over to the main help desk, Kuroo saw two computers for the librarians to use as databases, and could already tell that a line would no doubt form once more people came in.

Thank god he’d come early.

Kuroo strides were brisk as he approached the counter, eyes trained on the desk. He’d have to find all his books now if he didn’t want to wait in line later…

Plopping his book bag on the desk, Kuroo began rifling through it in frustration, searching for the resource list he’d haphazardly stuffed into it that morning. He didn’t look up when he heard footsteps stop in front of him, too focused on making sure the rest of his day went off without a hitch.

As he rifled through his things, he came across Yahaba and Kyoutani’s old wedding invitation, which he’d never thrown out, souring his mood even further. Why the universe was bent on reminding him of his own romance predicament, he wasn’t sure.

Kuroo didn’t even bother holding back a groan as he resumed looking for his book list.

“Can I help you with something?” The person in front of him finally spoke, voice soft and velvety despite the irritation laced through it. It reminded Kuroo of a freezing gust of wind, refreshing and biting all at once. Kuroo was too involved in his own task to really linger on the sudden sensation though, or the source.

As a result, his tact had also seemed to fly right out of him. “Yeah, got any books on how to get my annoying friends off my back about being single?”

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Kuroo felt like sucking them back in, his breath hitching with the power of a vacuum as he processed what he'd said. Ah damn. 

Oversharing had never been an issue for him, yet here he was, accidentally unleashing his frustrations out to an unsuspecting library worker. Kuroo pursed his lips, his hand freezing just as it gripped the sheet of paper he'd been looking for all along.

He waited for an awkward cough or scoff, maybe even a scolding for his rudeness. It definitely wasn't his day. Kuroo tapped his fingers against the tarnished wooden surface of the desk, stiffly pulling out his resource list and laying it flat in front of the employee. Kuroo didn’t dare look at the other’s face.

Instead of sounding irritated though, the person simply snorted, their body relaxing as they leaned against the counter. From their close proximity, Kuroo could smell the faint scent of sand and saltwater—his favorite.

“If such a book did exist, I’m sure people would be fighting over it as we speak," the voice answered, and yeah, Kuroo thought, velvety was the perfect way to describe it. He may have written scientific articles, but he knew his way around some adjectives.

Oh god, he was an idiot.

But actually yeah, the other had a point.

Kuroo laughed at the joke, tension leaving his muscles as he ran a hand through his hair. Finally, he looked up as he spoke, unaware of just how deadly of a blow it would be. "Yeah, you got a point ther—"

Kuroo choked on the end of his sentence, and the sensation returned tenfold. Like a cold, refreshing gust of wind, or an ocean breeze at night, golden lanterns lighting the way...

That was what looking at the other man in front of him felt like. Kuroo didn’t know it was possible, to have just one person practically embody such an image.

The young man's eyebrow arched in question, his plush lips pulled into a frown as his gaze slowly drifted to the paper on the desk. As his hand reached out, Kuroo noted how the sleeves of his black jumper were too long, easily sliding past his palms. The v-neckline of the jumper was skewed, as if the other had put it on in a bit of a rush. His blond hair was damp, and it pressed against his neck and forehead, and Kuroo could take a guess now about why the other smelled like he was born from the sea. So many questions…

Beautifully pale skin.

Piercing honey brown eyes which glowed behind black frames.

Long, delicate fingers.

Kuroo's eyes jumped from one feature to the other, his mind trying to drink in as much as he could before he was forced to step back into reality. He didn't know what had gotten into him, or why he'd never seen this man at the library before, but Kuroo couldn't take his eyes off him.

"Um, do you need me to look up all of these?" The blond's tone was hesitant, slow, alerting Kuroo to the fact he probably looked like a complete moron staring into oblivion. The blond's fingers crept over the crumpled paper, pulling it closer to him.

Kuroo cleared his throat, knocking on the desk with his knuckles as he begged himself to form coherent words. "Uh yeah, please! I need them for an--articles, magazine articles I mean. I write magazine articles."

Oh my god, what's wrong with you?

Kuroo was known to be quite the smooth talker, and this was just embarrassing.

The blond squinted warily before he moved to the computer, beginning to type in the authors Kuroo had listed. Every now and again, his gaze would flick back to Kuroo, his fingers slowing in their typing.

Kuroo wondered if he felt it too...whatever this weird moment was.

Kuroo couldn't have explained it if he'd tried, it was something he'd seldom experienced. It wasn't that Kuroo didn't believe love at first sight could happen, though it was rare. He didn't even know if this was it, but he knew his own emotions, and he trusted his instincts.

This person in front of him was special, and Kuroo wanted to find out why.

He leaned more of his weight on the desk, inching closer into the other's personal bubble as he watched the blond dutifully write down the call numbers from the computer.

Hell, his handwriting was even pretty.

"Hey," Kuroo began, his voice still feeling way too loud despite his whispering. "I haven't seen you around before. I mean, I come to the library often for work, I know most of the employees pretty well."

"Do you want a medal?" The other scoffed before his face twisted in regret, as if he'd forgotten he was at work. Kuroo lost it. He snickered into his hand as the blond pouted, his stunning eyes sending an impressive glare at his computer screen as he aggressively scribbled down another number.

"Actually yeah, I do. My one from last year isn't as shiny anymore, " Kuroo retorted, happy when the other relaxed upon realizing Kuroo wasn't actually angry at the comment.

The blond rolled his eyes, but Kuroo didn't miss the amusement hidden in them.

"Seriously though, how do I know you're not some impostor, trying to steal forbidden library secrets?"

At that, the other actually stopped typing, bringing a hand to his hip as his eyes stared up at the ceiling, as if trying to figure out how to answer Kuroo without calling him an outright nuisance.

"I already know where the hidden make out row is, thank you very much," he finally said with the ghost of a smirk, and fuck, Kuroo felt a shiver run down his back. "I'm a new volunteer, that's all."

"Volunteer?" Kuroo perked up, his head tilting to the side. "You a college student or something blondie?"

"It's Tsukishima. And I'm not, I'm a web designer." Tsukishima tensed after that, his eyes going wide like he'd said too much, and he regarded Kuroo curiously afterwards. It was pretty cute actually, as if Kuroo had performed some sort of witch craft.

Ah, so he's not normally a sharer?

For some reason, the realization ignited a fire in Kuroo. "Work from home?"

"....yeah."

"Me too!" Kuroo said, clapping his hands together. "What a small world. I also come here for fun of course."

At that, the blond crossed his arms, unbelievably unimpressed.

"So you write science articles, stay at home, and the idea of going to the library is what constitutes as fun?" Tsukishima clicked his tongue, his smile smug and practically begging Kuroo to snap a photo of him. "You sound like a nerd to me."

Oho, a decent jab. But Kuroo could return anything dished out.

"I'm pretty sure web design is nerdier than magazine writing."

"Science magazines. That makes a big difference. Have you seen the titles of these books?" Tsukishima waved the paper around, the wobbly sound echoing into the silence of the library.

Ugh, so cute. What the hell.

"Okay now, no need to get vicious."

"There's always a need to get vicious,” Tsukishima said with a huff, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

"Spare my poor chemistry books kind sir, I beg you." Kuroo couldn't help but smirk, his skin warm as their eyes locked, building a fire deep inside him. What is going on?

He was just having a normal conversation for fuck’s sake. Right?

The quick beating of his heart disagreed. The amusement faded from Tsukishima's eyes as their staring contest continued, those long, beautiful fingers clenching around the pen the blond was holding. It was then Kuroo realized Tsukishima had scrawled the last call number down long ago.

The chill was back, the connection was there.

Kuroo wondered how close he'd be standing if the desk wasn’t separating them, the pull between them too strong. It would've certainly been enough to lure him into the blond's waters, and he didn't have a clue why.

He didn't really have to know why either. Sometimes, he just knew when he'd met someone worth his time, and why miss out on it?

Kuroo licked his lips, not missing the way Tsukishima's gaze flicked to them quickly before returning to Kuroo's eyes. "Um...do you--"

There was a loud cough behind him, and everything seemed to unfreeze, the smell of the ocean and sounds of the sea disappearing into nothingness as the spell broke. The fog in his brain lifted, and he wasn’t sure he was thankful for it.

"Excuse me?" An aggravated voice spoke up behind him, way too loud for the preferred library volume. Kuroo glanced over his shoulder expecting to see one disgruntled patron, but was met with a line of seven or eight people.

Whoops.

Kuroo flushed, smiling sheepishly as he pulled his book bag back over his shoulder in a haste. As he did so, he caught sight of his watch, revealing he'd ended up staying at the counter for a good twenty minutes longer than intended.

Shit.

Tsukishima snapped out of his daze right after Kuroo, practically shoving the list of books into Kuroo's chest. The blond’s face returned to a more neutral expression, calm and almost uncaring despite the obvious complaints and mutters behind them.

"Here you are,” he said, defaulting back to a more professional tone. Then the blond leaned to the side, looking past Kuroo with evident annoyance in his eyes, luckily not directed at Kuroo. "I'll be with you in just a moment."

Kuroo heard the blond mutter a curse under his breath, and the man behind him in line huffed in displeasure. Kuroo felt guilty for holding up the line, but he was more in shock at the fact he hadn't noticed at all.

He was usually so much more observant than that, a people person, constantly aware of his surroundings. But in the moment, it had felt like nothing and no one else existed, and it made his palms sweat and his throat dry up.

"Uh thanks, sorry about that...well, bye," Kuroo stuttered out as he started to walk away, meeting Tsukishima's stare until the other was forced to tend to the next patron.

All the while, it was like something in Kuroo begged him to stay.

He shook his head profusely, willing himself to focus on finding the correct floor for the first book. He had work to do, whatever this was...he could sort it out later. His article was what mattered most.

Yet as he made his way to the second level of the library, not tearing his gaze away from the head of blond hair at the front desk until he absolutely had no choice, he knew this was far from over.

#kurotsuki #kurotsukki #adri writing #haikyuuwriters #ficsforvera

[initiala]

Happy Valentine’s Day @fairytalesandtimetravel!!! I had so much fun talking to you this month, though I apologize for how infrequent it got as the school year decided to slam everything down on me. Now this is a bit more St. Patrick’s Day than Valentine’s, but I loved your prompt and pulled in some of my own experiences as well ;)

“Doesn’t this country know it’s summer?” Emma grumbled as she pulled her beanie more snugly around her ears.

Her new beanie, made with genuine Irish wool (dyed green, since Mary Margaret said it matched Emma’s eyes), because it was the end of June and Emma had foolishly believed that she could wear summer clothes on this trip around the British Isles.

But apparently Ireland hadn’t received the message that the summer solstice had passed two days before; the rolling green hills were capped with low-hanging gray clouds, blocking any sunshine from warming the air. Everyone had bought out the gift shop’s supply of wool sweaters and scarves the night before, after the news report that the next few days were sure to be more of the same. As she dubiously eyed the path up to the castle, Emma had yet to decide if there was a constant drizzle or if it was just that foggy, but either way the weather was chilly and damp.

And the most infuriating thing of all? The island still managed to be one of the most beautiful places she’d ever been to.

She followed David and Mary Margaret up to Blarney Castle, their last touristy stop of the day before heading back into Cork. The streams around the castle grounds flowed noisily along, the water swollen up and over the banks. Full and green trees hung low, heavy with wet, their leaves trailing in water and giving Emma plenty of exercise as she ducked under branches and away from Mary Margaret’s ever-snapping camera. “Newsflash, cameras do not steal your soul,” Mary Margaret commented as Emma slipped away yet again from another photo.

“Thanks for the update, still not gonna risk it,” Emma replied.

“It’s like you don’t want people to know you’re on vacation with us,” David said, holding a branch up for Mary Margaret to walk under.

Emma didn’t reply; in truth, it felt a little awkward to be the third wheel, especially knowing that David was about four seconds from throwing his carefully-made plans out the window and proposing to Mary Margaret on the first windswept, sheep-speckled hillside he could find (of which there were many). Not wanting to sound like a sad sack or leave an open invitation for Mary Margaret’s matchmaking to make an appearance, it was just easier to stay silent.

There were relatively few people when they entered the run-down castle, which turned out to be a blessing: the damp made the stone stairs fairly treacherous. Emma made her way through the crumbling castle, pausing here and there to read the signs about how the inside had originally been laid out. She heard Mary Margaret’s camera going a million miles a minute somewhere behind her and resisted the urge to flip the camera off: she’d just get guilted half to death and Emma knew Mary Margaret only meant well.

Oh hell, she felt guilty just thinking about it.

Emma knew she was in pretty good shape, but the castle stairs were steep and she was a little winded as they came up to the top. On a clear day, the view would be spectacular; she leaned out of a crenel and watched the clouds scuttle low in the sky, the misty air obscuring most of the land past a half mile away or so. “Please don’t tumble out of a castle tower, I really don’t want to explain that to your boss,” David said, gripping the back of her leather jacket for good measure.

“You’re my boss, David.”

“Okay, the insurance company then.”

“Spoilsport.”

“Children,” Mary Margaret said, snapping a picture of the two of them with a mischievous smile on her face. “Let’s go kiss the Blarney Stone so this nice young man can go home out of the wet. And so we can get some of the stew that one pub was advertising.”

Emma looked over to where Mary Margaret’s ‘nice young man’ stood. In reality, he looked to be about their age, possibly a few years older; she couldn’t tell what color his eyes were from here but he watched them with interest. The wind-tousled hair and the smirk on his face didn’t match her description either -- oh no, nice was absolutely not the word Emma would use to describe this guy. “Have you even looked at him?” she hissed.

Mary Margaret looked properly appalled, smacking her on the arm discretely. “Emma!”

“He looks neither nice nor young!”

“He looks like he’s David’s age and, well, okay, he looks a bit… impish, but I call you nice even when you’re being all… you,” Mary Margaret hissed back.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You know what it’s supposed to mean, Miss Prickly Pear! You know what I think?” Mary Margaret asked as they let David lead the way. “I think you definitely looked at him and that’s why you’re being this way.”

“What way?” Emma hissed, but Mary Margaret didn’t respond as the man began talking.

Okay, maybe she knew what way. Up close, the guy was hot. He had a musical kind of lilt to his voice as he talked about the legends behind the Blarney Stone, weaving in little jokes as he went, and Emma caught him looking at her appreciatively more than once. “Now, it’s a bit of a drop to get to it,” he was saying, “but I promise I haven’t lost anyone yet.”

Emma’s gaze snapped to where David was about to lay on a mat on the stone walkway. “Wait, what?”

“Aye,” the guide said, setting up the souvenir camera. “Stone’s down there, love, built into the battlements. What’s the fun without a bit of danger?”

David grinned at her as Emma watched, transfixed and feeling slightly green around the gills; the guide had him lay on his back, grip some metal poles bolted into the stone walls, and bend himself halfway down the wall as the guide held David’s waist. A photo was snapped, and then David was getting back up, looking a bit red from all the blood rushing to his head but still grinning. “I am not doing that,” Emma stated flatly.

“Says the woman leaning out of the tower earlier?” David asked.

“I was barely poking my head over the side!”

“Oh, come on Emma,” Mary Margaret said, slipping her own beanie off her head and shoving it in her pocket. She too managed the feat and got a photo to prove it.

But Emma dug her heels in, crossing her arms over her chest defiantly as the guide waited her out. “It’s alright, lass.”

“It’s slippery.”

“I’ll hold on to you.”

“Then we’ll both fall to our deaths.”

“Someone’s been listening to too many Holmes dramas,” the guide said with a small sigh. He waved her over, holding out his hand. “Come here, Emma, it’s perfectly safe.”

She started to ask how he knew her name, but remembered Mary Margaret’s goading. Feeling churlish, she went to kneel next to him. He stuck out his hand and she took it, cautiously. “Name’s Killian,” he said, grinning at her. “There, now we know each other. Better to fall to your death with a friend than a stranger, aye?”

“You really need to work on your bedside manner.”

Killian laughed, then canted his head down to where the stone lay embedded in the wall. “It’s that one there, right at the end. And see past that? There’s a safety catch. So no deaths today, not on my watch. Just a quick dip, then you’re back on your feet. I’ll hold on the whole time.”

Emma glanced down at the stone and then back up at Killian. There must have been something in her eyes because he gave her a small, reassuring smile. “Try something new, darling. It’s called trust.”

She wasn’t one to trust people easily. And even with the safety bars below, this still felt like something unnecessarily risky -- like cliff-diving in the Philippines or some other dangerous touristy thing. But she found herself nodding and laying back. Killian’s hands held her hips firmly and he gave her another smile, and she had a bizarre, fleeting thought about what this might feel like in an entirely different situation: one with less cold, wet stone under her back. “Down you get, love,” Killian said. “And no pretending either, don’t be afraid to really get into it.”

Emma scoffed, then pulled herself down and back. She saw a fleeting glimpse of that beautiful countryside before she firmly shut her eyes and pressed her lips to the cold, wet Blarney Stone.

As Killian helped her back up -- her actual back was protesting the exercise -- Mary Margaret and David were applauding her, and Emma was pretty sure it was only a little bit sarcastic. Killian helped her to her feet as well, clapping her on the shoulder with yet another grin. “Good show. Now, if you want your photos, those will be down at the booth as you’re leaving the grounds. It looks like we’re going to get more rain in a bit, so I suggest you three hustle if you’re going to escape most of the wet.”

David and Mary Margaret nodded and started back down the castle. Emma started to go after them, then glanced over her shoulder. “Hey, Killian?” He looked up, with an oddly hopeful look on his face. She smiled a bit, then lifted her hand in farewell. “Thanks.”

“Anytime, love. Have a good day.”

Emma bought her souvenir photo.

After they got back to the hostel and all traded turns in the shower, Emma couldn’t decide if she wanted to lay down on her bed and never get back up, or if she should feed her rumbling stomach. Her legs hurt from all the climbing that day, but she knew she’d only be grouchy and get a headache if she didn’t eat. So she popped a few Tylenol and followed her friends down the street to the pub they’d discussed earlier.

It was warm and cozy inside, dim lighting and old, dark wood breathing a sense of history into the place. The stew was excellent, as were the beers -- though Emma still had some trouble adjusting to this warm beer thing -- and they decided to stay and listen for a while as a local band was getting ready to play their set.

Emma was absorbed in going over tomorrow’s plans with David when she heard a familiar voice over the microphone announce the band and then count off to the first song. She looked up and realized with a shock that it was Killian on the guitar and singing. A man with curly hair was on the fiddle, and there was another man and a woman -- one on a hand-drum and the other with a pipe; there were a few other instruments at their feet and occasionally they’d swap out. Apparently they were regulars, because as the evening wore on folks started to call out favorite requests and Killian would banter with them, to much laughter.

She was up at the bar getting refills when Killian announced a short break. She felt someone come up to the bar next to her and heard Killian say, “Couple of waters, cheers lad.”

Emma totally wanted to blame the alcohol for what happened next, but she knew deep down that she’d somehow hoped she could see him again. Or maybe the Blarney Stone magic was starting to work. “Hey,” she said, turning to look at him. “You guys aren’t half bad.”

The look on his face was priceless, shock and a bit of awe as well. “Emma.”

Her smile faltered a bit, worried that this would be a bad thing. After all, he wasn’t being paid to calm down the crazy girl at the top of a castle here, he was performing. And it had only been for a few minutes earlier that day, it wasn’t like they’d shared this magical moment and birds would start singing anytime they were near -- oh, God, she was spending too much time with Mary Margaret on this trip. “Yeah,” she said, as the bartender came up with her tray of drinks and a few glasses of water for Killian. “Sorry, I just thought -- your band’s good. We’ve been enjoying it. I’ll, uh, let you get back to your break--”

“No, love.” Killian’s hand shot out and stopped her from moving. “Apologies, I was just stunned to see you here. You must have been tucked away in some corner, I would have noticed otherwise.”

Emma was grateful for the dark, it hid her rising blush. “Oh. Well, yeah, we have a table near the back.”

“I see. And I’m keeping you from your friends now.”

She shook her head at the sad sound of his voice. “No, I was just getting refills. I needed to get up and move anyway, David’s a planner and Mary Margaret has all the Lonely Planets out and it’s starting to get on my nerves a bit.”

“Like a bit of spontaneity, do you?” Killian asked.

The glint in his eye made her warmer. “Kinda,” Emma admitted. “Sometimes you just need to fall off the beaten track for a while, you know? Stuff happens and that’s where the story comes from.”

“A life of adventure.”

She nodded. Killian glanced back at the platform where his band mates were, then back to her. “Listen, I need to get these over to the lads and I’m sure your friends would appreciate their drinks. But pop back up here in a mo’?”

Emma considered him, then decided to take her own advice. Fall off the beaten track for a bit. “Okay.”

She dropped off David and Mary Margaret’s drinks with a hurried explanation, then brought her pint back up to the front of the pub, where Killian waited for her. He gave her a grin that promised mischief, then plucked her glass from her hand. “Do you know how to jig, love?”

Emma looked at him as if he’d grown another head. “Do I know how to what?”

The man with the curly hair and the fiddle stepped up to the mic. “Lads, I’ve had a request -- seems my little brother doesn’t get enough exercise climbing up and down the hills all day and wants to show off for this lovely lass.” Emma’s face was definitely, noticeably red this time, glaring at this guy who claimed to be Killian’s older brother. “So dust off your dancing shoes and get ready to burn off Mrs. O’Malley’s stew.”

“I have no idea what to do!” Emma hissed as Killian took her hands and the band started up a jaunty tune.

“Then it’s a good thing you’ve picked a partner who knows what he’s doing,” Killian told her with a wink. “Follow my lead.”

There was a lot of bouncing involved, but as Killian whirled her around the pub floor with the other people dancing -- David and Mary Margaret included, after the first song -- Emma would later swear she’d never had so much fun or laughed so hard in her life. He took her through four songs before Liam -- his older brother -- and the rest of the pub teased him back into finishing the night’s set.

Emma caught her breath at their table in the back, watching Killian play as she nursed her drink. He caught her eye a few time as he sang, winking once, and when they finished their set for the night he gave her a subtle look to follow him.

As planned out as the trip had been -- chilly weather and new wool sweaters aside -- Emma was pretty sure that no one, least of all her, would have planned on her making out with an Irish pub musician behind the very pub he’d been playing at.

And really, that’s kind of how she preferred it.

#captain swan #cs ff #cs fanfic #cs fluff #fairytalesandtimetravel #amanda writes #cssv

[hopeforpeoplefodivha]

Thursday, March 2nd, 2017

Dear Friends, The internet has been spotty. I found this morning, that it was up and running so I will quickly write an update before leaving on the tap-tap. The rooster has been quiet for 2 mornings now...we had a "chicken like dish" for dinner on Tuesday night, so I'm wondering if I really DID eat him? The rest of the "team" arrived late Thursday afternoon...Jo (affectionately called "JoJo" or "JoJo with the MoJo"), Chris ("Crisco") and Nicole and Dani (2 sisters that we can't resist calling the "Go Go Girls"). It is good to share the adventure. Yesterday was their first day working at the orphanage, meeting the kids. As with all people with good hearts, they assimilated themselves as best they could in this new culture and encircled the kids with love. When I asked them what they were most "struck" with after the first day, this was their replies: - "There is so much unemployment. It would be so hard to live under that constant stress." (The country average is 41%, although much higher in rural areas.) - "There is so much rock and gravel everywhere!" - "The children are so beautiful!". - "The HEAT!" - The driving is CRAZY". Yes, all the normal reactions. Yesterday was the first day of work in the sun for the team. We are still waiting for our large delivery of wood and supplies from the hardware store. "Carnival" is over so we are hoping that it will arrive today...it must. Yesterday the team spent the day repainting the facade of the school and the long fence that separates the orphanage from the school on property. The "Go Go Girls" came home wearing lovely shades of yellow and hot pink all over their bodies. It is wonderful to have their freshness and energy. II should mention that they are about 3+ decades younger than me!  It's infectious. Nicole (Go Go Girl #1) views everything and then deeply comes up with a one sentence synopsis. Dani sees the good in everything. She is a great maker of "lemonade". Children crowd around them as work. They beam if they get the chance to paint a board. After all this is their home. They want to share in making it beautiful. The older girls hang around them...seeking a Big Sister of sorts. After all, the older girls are responsible for taking care of the younger children. It is nice for them to have someone closer to their age. Chris is on his 5th or 6th tour with us? He is our friend from Cleveland...the USA connection. I tell him affectionately that he's like "an old piece of furniture". I wouldn't know what to if he wasn't on the trip. He's calm and funny. Another Brother. Chris is notorious for bringing "the bag". If you are in need of something, Chris probably has it. I think this "bag" is bottomless. Yesterday the truck broke down (again!) and we had to change vehicles. Of course Chris had the only piece of rope required to tack all of our gear to the roof. Simon followed me to Haiti the first time and now we partner this project together. Simon can fix anything. Yesterday he spent the majority of time supervising the cement work but also fixing the kitchen tables. They were missing 3 legs..tables don't stand well when they are missing legs. Instead of just fabricating "something" functional, Simon carved 3 table legs by hand to match the others. They are beautiful. The wooden table was painted and now proudly display the heavy vinyl tablecloths that Jo brought. Jo brought her expertise with her. Our kids have never seen a dentist. Jo, having been a dental hygienist for +25 years, was able to check the state of all the children's teeth and identify any of them that require immediate dental care. She will give formal instruction to the kids today on dental hygiene and proper tooth brushing. There were 2 nurses joining her for the day. They were given a great day of "continuing education". What a gift to bring to Haiti. Surprisingly, most of the children's teeth are in reasonable shape. However one girl requires immediate attention, having severe decay on 2 molars that must be pulled and identifying infection. When asked if she has "pain", the child said "yes". However she had not told anyone, but suffered in silence until today. Pain is just a part of living here. Today will be negotiating with the plumber, sawing and SAWING AND MORE SAWING of wood (I honestly love sawing wood!), building of desks, constructing of roof trusses and anything else that comes up. We are hoping that Dieusilhomme will get to the hospital today. Time to get on the truck...the horn will be honking for us. Thanks for following us. Your support is felt. Blessings, DEB 

[sherlynboren0-blog]

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