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thecandywrites · 3 years

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Blood For Gold Chapter 17

Did I plan this? No. Did my hand slip and write this and SURPRISE ME? HELL YEAH. And @punkhorse96 oh, I know, prestorm but the winds are picking up as that first twist in the clouds. But nothing pushes you to confront your feelings quite like having the object of your affections have a sudden change in health.

Blood For Gold

Chapter 17

“So what’s the plan tomorrow? More training?” Demsey guessed as you came back into the stables and he was in the extended stall with you and Heavencrest and Charlico, trying to figure out how to take Charlico’s saddle off as he watched what you were doing as he tried to imitate what you were doing since the saddles looked similar in most respects.

“Tomorrow is the Kamo because Kamoba means “feast and fight” in marinai, so it’s a feasting day, you’re meant to rest, eat, and get all the jitters out of your system and drink until all the stress of the competition leaves you and everything you’ve pent up over the course of training is released so you go into the competition with a clear head, a clean conscience, so no grudges or misgivings, or malicious intent towards any of the other competitors or anything. You should still do the stretches but only one set of drills to make sure you remember them correctly but that is only after breakfast but after that, you’re meant to eat and rest basically and not do anything that could endanger your performance the next day, so don’t get drunk where you will feel hungover the next day, party and have a good time, but not party so hard or hurt yourself partying so that your performance is hindered, like spraining an ankle or throwing your back out of alignment. Then the night before the event, there is the choli- it’s where we take the leftover paint from all the training sessions and throw it at each other, like one big paint fight and then spend the rest of the night scrubbing ourselves clean, because the part of the Kamoba battle traditions before the battle can even take place is mixing the paints fresh that day to make sure that nothing dangerous is added to the paints, like powders that make the paint explode when they’re stuck.” You answered.

“Oh gods, that’s been done before? To sabotage the paint?” Demsey asked.

“Yup, several times throughout history. That’s why none of the competitors have anything to do with the paint mixture and a vast array of tests are performed on the paints and all the weapons to keep actual bloodshed from happening between the competitors and no one can sabotage the weapons either. But all the competitors are meant to stay together to make sure no one accepts a bribe for losing or winning or whatever and competitors are not allowed to publically bet either on themselves or each other just in case that should sway the betting rings, however they can send to a betting house, under an assumed name or pseudonym, their own private bets to who they think will win, and simply leave an address to where to send the money if they win. But again, that’s meant to be a secret that no one else is to know. But just between you and me, I always bet on my grandma, always, but all of that has to be done the day before the battle, because after midnight tomorrow night, that’s the cut off time.” You confided as you dropped your voice down to a whisper.

“I see.” Demsey replied, keeping his voice down as well.

“Anyway, only the crowd is allowed to place their bets right before the battle and they only have their eyes, watching the final set of stretches and exercises to watch- to make such judgements before the battle. However, there is a private pool, or jackpot, or simply “pot” for short, that’s put together by all the competitors and tomorrow night, there will be a collection taken by the hosts, so Yalin should probably be the one to collect it and her and Gregori will keep it safe until there is a clear winner, usually you put in something that won’t hurt you to lose but that you don’t want to necessarily give it away for free, but you will be happy to get it back. I always put in something simple, like a small pocket knife or a piece of jewelry, or whatever, something that isn’t necessarily really that sentimental to me but has monetary value, enough that anyone would want to win it anyway, or you could just put in money, most men put in either money or daggers or watches or something like that if they are not moura themselves. But when you put it in, you’re supposed to announce what it is and what it’s worth and of course whoever puts in the least valuable thing, if you’re not the poorest of competitors and it’s not something you can afford to give then that’s seen as a sign that your whole heart won’t be in the battle, but if you put in the most expensive or the most important or the most coveted thing in there- that means that you will take everything personally, like it’s a personal attack rather than just a competition and again, you’ll be giving it more than all of your all and it would be too much of a temptation for you to try to cheat in some way so you wouldn’t chance losing that thing. Which is again, a red flag for the rest of us and it can be rejected by the group because you have to submit whatever it is to the group for it to be accepted, and if the whole group of competitors doesn’t trust that you either won’t play fair or won’t give it your all, you can be automatically rejected by the group, however there is one exception.” You explained as you held up a single finger.

“Once you start fighting in Kamoba, that item that you put up, if you end up winning, you have to put up that same item over and over again until you either retire, or lose and the item is lost to someone else. My grandmother always puts in “the dagger”. Which has been put into every battle she has fought and she has only lost it twice but won it back in the next komoba battle she fought. The dagger itself, has been passed down in the family over generations and predates the current rules, the old rules were, you put in your favorite object into the pool. Which was the old rules fifty years ago. But my grandmother is unchanged, she will still put in the dagger and the dagger is priceless, because the Sultan who had it commissioned for his favorite wife, his kingdom no longer stands and the techniques used in it’s creation no longer exist, that’s how old and special this thing is. So she is the only one who puts in something priceless. But no one else. But her dagger alone is world renowned, like that dagger is in every portrait she has ever had done of herself. Like if she continued to be undefeated, she will probably be buried with that dagger.” You revealed.

“Most mouras in Dorierra, have special daggers especially made just for the Kamoba battles, but they use it the day before to cut up their meat and eat with it to use it one last time before they would lose it. So as it stands, my grandmother has hundreds of thousands of daggers, but each one, she keeps in a special room with the name of who she defeated to gain it. Once she passes, she has instructed for it all to be displayed in a museum in Dorierra, along with her portraits as her legacy. And that dagger- comes with world class bragging rights. Honestly I have only held it once and it felt like I was holding the weapon of a god, like I had the power of multiple worlds in my hand and I was a mortal who had no business even looking at it and I was always too scared to even touch it after that because I think I was like, 11 or 12 when I got to hold it. My grandma claims that it is just a dagger, it’s just metal and precious stones and nothing more. But the illusion that it is more than what it seems, always tips things in her favor because I have seen competitors just take one look at it and get intimidated just from looking at the dagger and then completely lose their nerve when they face off against her. She can be really sweet out of the Kamoba arena. She turns into almost a literal viper in it though and she doesn’t hold back or pull her punches.” You warned him.

“And what about you? What do you turn into?” Demsey asked thoughtfully.

“My grandmother calls me The Turquoise Phoenix, because that is my favorite color and the color I always choose during the day battles to paint my weapons with. She says that I am like a phoenix because there have been several times where everyone thought I was beat for sure but I seemed to rise from my own ashes and win at the last moment.” You answered. “Also I always put a piece of turquoise jewelry into the pot, so if it’s turquoise, it’s most likely mine.” You shrugged as you managed to get the saddle off of Heavencrest and carry it over to the saddle stand as Demsey did the same, both of you walking side by side to where the saddles for the griffins were kept as Grevu was still in his tent and the end of the barn as he humphed sulking-ly at you once you came into view.

“Oh I know! Axal didn’t go flying tonight so you had to stay here, I’m sorry, next time we go flying and Axal doesn’t go, I’ll ride you instead of Heavy, how’s that? I’m sorry you missed out.” You offered to Grevu as you came over to him after you put your saddle away and stroked his nose as he sniffed you and gently touched his nose to your lower abdomen and sniffed in deeply then cleaned his nose out, blowing snot onto your legs.

“Do I need to change my underwear or what? You and Heavy keep sniffing me there, it’s making me self conscious, but thanks, apparently I needed dragon snot on my outfit, I’m happy you could provide that for me.” You sarcastically complained in almost a mocking thankful tone as you brought his nose up to your face before you kissed his nose and scratched under his chin and grinned when he churred happily and set his chin on your shoulder before moving his head around to where he wanted to be scratched, like around his horns.

“Oooh, you poor Bay-bey, no one loves you, or gives you any attention, do they? No. You’re just so ignored and neglected.” You cooed to Grevu in your best cooing baby talk voice as Grevu narrowed his eyes at you before he blew his nose out at your face, covering your face and chest in little beads of blue dragon snot.

“Thanks a lot Grevu, thanks, that’s all I needed to make my day complete, you fat rat with wings.” You thanked him as you unzipped your jacket to take the shirt you were wearing and tried to wipe off your face at least as you made a face at how disgusting it smelled.

“Thanks, I’m gonna need another bath tonight, thanks for that. That’s gonna stick in my hair. I'm gonna have to wash my hair twice to get it out, at least, maybe three times.” You complained sarcastically.

“You brat, you’re lucky you’re so cute.” You teased as you playfully batted his nose away before he actually coughed, but at Demsey before Demsey was covered in a giant blue lougie which made you erupt into laughter as you had dodged and missed most of it but Demsey hadn’t seen it coming and just barely had his eyes closed before he was completely plastered in dragon snot.

“What did I do?!” Demsey asked as he just stood and looked at himself and tried not to gag as you laughed even harder.

“This smells like rotten guts, what did you eat?” Demsey asked Grevu who did the dragon’s equivalent of laughing.

“It smells like old...either a cow or old horse or old donkey or something like that, definitely something from a barnyard, and definitely guts.” You guessed as you urged Demsey away and out of the barn as he took big wide steps to try to let most of it, drip, slide and fall off of him before the rest of your family found you and started laughing just as the smell of whatever it was started affecting you and Demsey at about the same time and you both started gagging before you both threw up right there on the lawn which got everyone to stop laughing as Axal was sent for once you started throwing up in the last light of dusk and the grass turned from green- to purple which caused everyone alarm.

“Oh no, send for a doctor. I know the rules of Kamoba means that none of the competitors can take anything to help them but clearly this is an exception right?” Axal asked his family who all readily agreed.

“Get Dr. Wen Shi Chu, he’s my doctor, I only want him to treat me.” You insisted as you laid down in the grass and clutched your middle, the darkness of dusk still highlighting the fact that your vomit was turning the grass a dark indigo violet. But clearly you were much more affected than Demsey was, because once the dragon snot was washed away from him, thankfully he was in flying leathers so it wiped off, and once it was washed away, he was fine, but you seemed to be taking this much harder than he was and affected much more gravely as you continued to vomit, more and more indigo violet puke pouring out of you before your father picked you up and carried you to your rooms after others had tried to wipe the dragon snot off of you too.

“Put me in a bathtub, I feel I’m going to be making a mess tonight.” You urged them as your mother helped strip you out of your flying leathers as you got into the tub but didn’t throw up any further, just laid in the fetal position and clutched your middle as you were instantly in agony.

“Really? Right before a Kamoba battle you cough a loogie on Audra and Demsey and get them sick?” Axal asked his dragon as he waited for Dr. Wen Shi Chu to arrive as Grevu simply turned his back to Axal and farted in Axal’s direction before the smell made Axal start vomiting too.

“Oh you fucking brat! Just because I didn’t take you flying, you throw a fit?!” Axal yelled reproachfully at Grevu between hurls himself as he made it back to the house before his other brothers noticed he was sick and helped him back to his own room just before Dr. Wen Shi Chu arrived as he was brought to your room first.

“What happened?” He asked.

“She and Duke Demsey Voyambi were petting Axal’s dragon Grevu after their evening ride, Grevu snorted snot on her and coughed up more snot on Demsey and made them both vomit and when Axal went to confront Grevu, Grevu apparently farted on him and made him sick as well.” Your mother told him.

“Ah, temperamental dragons, what has the dragon been eating?” Dr. Wen Shi Chu, who simply went by Dr. Chu- asked.

“You’d have to ask the stable hands.” Your mother answered.

“For now, Lady Audra, drink this, it will settle your stomach and steady you.” Dr. Wen offered as he went into his case and took out a vial before you looked from it to your mothers and grandmothers.

“But what about the Kamoba rule of competitors not taking any medicine to improve their health?” You asked them.

“This is obviously a special case, and does not apply, since three competitors have been affected and not just one.” Your grandmother, Loreiris insisted which your mothers readily nodded their agreement to that sentiment before you took the vial and drank it down.

“It should help for now until I have further medication to combat exactly what the dragon ate.” Dr. Chu offered.

“If such bodily functions from a dragon are inhaled or ingested, it can lead to intense sickness, depending on how much was ingested,” Dr. Chu offered to your family.

“They all know about the mourkatili.” You informed Dr. Chu.

“Ah then they will know that you will be the most affected by it and will need the most medicine to keep you stabilized.” He offered.

“Of course.” Your mothers and grandmothers readily agreed before Dr. Wen went and attended to Axal and Demsey, who by now had seemed to recover and returned to the group, but both of them were most anxious to hear how you were faring.

“Because Lady Audra has had mourkatili in her system, her body has been harmed, and because of this, she will need the most medicine and the most intensive care. I understand a Kamoba battle is to take place and she is a competitor, she may need to bow out of the competition.” Dr. Chu advised everyone.

“If that is her choice. But I am perfectly fine with her taking any and all medicine to steady and fortify her and such medical intervention will be allowed and accepted if she is to compete or not, her health is of most importance, screw the Kamoba and it’s traditions right now.” Your grandmother, LoreIris insisted.

“Agreed.” Everyone echoed.

“Then take me to the dragon and bring me to who has been feeding him and I need to know all that the dragon has ingested and I will need to take samples of everything for testing.” Dr. Chu insisted before he was brought around and a light was brought out and when Dr. Chu saw the purple of the grass, he stopped everyone from moving or getting any closer.

“Lady Audra is continuing to purge the mourkatili. You will note it by it’s sweet smell, like violets and it’s violet color, Grevu’s bodily fluids are trying to heal her and he may have tried to affect the other two to bring more attention to the matter, he may have sensed her sickness and is just trying to help, let no one or nothing touch the violet grass, it must be dug up and all the dirt a half a meter underneath it, must be dug up, all do this must wear protective gear and it all must be burned immediately. Or it will kill otherwise.” Dr. Chu advised before Gregori readily ordered for just such measures to be done and then some.

“Ah, Great Grevu, I Dr. Wen Shi Chu bow in respect, I wish to examine you.” Dr. Chu bowed to Grevu as Grevu lifted his head and then got up and turned around to face Dr. Chu and then laid down to face Dr. Chu and bowed his head in turn.

“Were you trying to heal Lady Audra?” Dr. Chu asked as Grevu nodded yes.

“And did you try to bring attention to her sickness by affecting her brother and Duke Voyambi?” Dr. Chu asked as Grevu nodded yes again.

“Very good! He needs to be rewarded, a fine bull this time, no more old and sick animals, for that is what has made them all sick. Many people forget that dragons need dragon fruit, dragon nut, dragon weed, dragon flower, dragon mushroom, and dragon herbs in their diet. All Grevu has had in his diet has been meat and whole, old animals, he needs variety to maintain a balanced diet. You are a royal family, you have all these things, yes?” Dr. Chu asked Yalin and Gregori.

“Well, actually, no- because we’ve never had a dragon with us before so we don’t...have any of that. I don’t think.” Yalin confessed.

“That is ok, I keep a greenhouse at my house, I grow such things, I will have them delivered as soon as possible, but for now, I will need to focus on Lady Audra and get her through the night, if she continues to vomit and give way to her digestive powers, she will be too sick for months to come, she can become dehydrated, and possibly die from such dehydration and will be unable to do anything and may fall back into a deep depression, all efforts and focus must be on her at this time.” Dr. Chu advised before he wrote down directions for his household and sent for his wife to bring the proper medicine before he returned to your room as others came and sat down all around you and silently prayed for your recovery.

“Well this is one way to celebrate the start of the Kamo.” Benny tried to joke which got you to huff a laugh.

“Yeah, this is the greatest one yet.” You sarcastically agreed as you laid in the tub in your night dress but nothing else as a blanket was brought and laid over you as well as a pillow so that you were at least comfortable before Dr. Chu’s wife came with the medicines her husband asked for as well as the plants needed as she soaked cloths in special tea made from dragon weed and dragon fruit and dragon flower and wrapped it around your wrists and hands, ankles and feet and head and chest.

“Just like old times?” You tried to joke with her once she laid the last damp cloth on your forehead as she had you swish out the remaining mourkatili remaining in your mouth with special tea and dumped the light violet colored liquid down the toilet.

“Yes, just like old times.” Lady Chu agreed before she had you drink the rest of the tea once she added some honey and mint to improve the taste and settle your stomach and once your nausea subsided you were picked up, out of the bathtub and laid in bed as Dr. Chu gave you some medicine for sleep.

“Let her sleep as long as she needs, she will need at least ten hours of it, if not twelve, but no more than 14 or 15 because if she sleeps that long, she may end up going into a coma and it may be a few weeks before we can wake her up again but the chances of that happening are very small, one in...one in like a hundred so small chance but still a chance. Now the chances of her waking up in just 9 to 11 hours is very high, like 90 in 100 chances, there can’t be that much mourkatili left in her system now. But when she wakes up, give her anything she is hungry for, her body will know what it needs. If she is to purge again in the morning, have her drink this and she knows how to make this tea and this tonic, simply add the powdered tonic to hot water and the tea into a clean teapot full of hot water also, to steep for several minutes, have her drink the tonic first and the tea second and she should be fine, for now, let her rest in peace.” Dr. Chu prescribed.

“I will stay with her.” Almost everyone insisted in unison.

“No, only one or two, no more, for her sake.” Lady Chu answered.

“I am her mother, I will stay.” Your mother Jodhaa, decided.

“And I am her twin, I will stay too.” Axal insisted.

“Dem...Demsey, how is Demsey?” You asked as you fought to hang onto consciousness as your eyes tried to close as you felt them trying to cement themselves closed as you barely had the strength to roll your head from side to side, but otherwise it felt like your body was made of lead and sleep was dragging you down like a stone in the ocean.

“He is already recovered, I attended to him myself, he is orc, very strong young man, not nearly as affected as you, Grevu gave you the blue healing snot to purge your system of the rest of the mourkatili.” Dr. Chu reassured you.

“Oh good, I was most..most worried...about him. Axal, don’t, don’t stay, Ramsey needs you, let, let Calla stay and mom, don’t stay, stay with dad, I’ll be fine. Trust Dr. Chu, he is the best doctor..in the world, him and his wife.” You whispered before you practically fell unconcious as everyone seemed to give each other a meaningful look and knowing grin as Dr. Chu and his wife beamed proud smiles as the others obeyed your wishes.

“How long have you been treating my daughter?” Your mother Jodhaa asked Dr. Chu curiously as Calla left to get her night clothes to stay with you as the others saw Dr. Chu and his wife out as all of them tried giving something to Dr. Chu and his wife for their services to you.

“Ah for about a year, she sought me out with the mourkatili, I have been treating her intensively ever since. The first six months after she became a widow, we had to wean her off the mourkatili so she would not become an addict and the cold cut off would not drive her to madness and then spend another three months purging her body, I thought we had gotten all we could, but obviously the dragon wanted the rest of it out. Whatever is left in her body should be purged from her body in the morning, it seems a dragon will see to it that it will be finished from where I started. I am most grateful to the dragon as all of you should be too. Dragons often get dismissed as only being animals by most these days instead of being revered like the little gods they are and believe themselves to be. He must have known for Audra to be at her full strength, she needed to purge the rest of it, today apparently. Dragons always choose auspicious times, for us in the moment it may seem inconvenient, but in hindsight, it will be the perfect timing. By tomorrow night, I feel safe in predicting she will be back to her old self, the self you all once knew.” Dr. Chu advised as everyone smiled and blew out their sighs of relief as soon word spread as Charlotte also secretly reported the new development to her grandmother who seemed relieved to hear it and offered her own private wishes and prayers for your recovery as Dr. Chu and his wife returned home.

Demsey seemed relieved to hear the news but he was weary to believe such a thing, it seemed too good to be true as he laid in bed and wanted nothing more than to make sure you were ok as the overwhelming urge to protect you seemed to course through his viens as rest elluded him and panic gripped his soul as his better judgement told him that he needed to see you with his own eyes before got dressed at least in pants and found the secret passage to your room, but was surprised to see it was being guarded by Axal and Ramsey.

“What are you doing here?” Ramsey asked Demsey.

“I...I just wanted to see with my own eyes that Audra is ok.” Demsey confessed as Axal let a crooked grin hike up a corner of his mouth.

“Yeah, sure, come on,” Axal invited as he let Demsey into the room as Calla sat up in bed at hearing the door open.

“It’s just us, Demsey just wanted to make sure Audra was alight with his own eyes.” Axal said.

“Yes, she’s sleeping very deeply. My brothers as well as Benny’s are guarding her door and the hallway to make sure no one comes in or out and I’m sure the rest of Audra’s brothers will be there in the secret passage sooner than later.” Calla revealed as she waived Demsey over to where you still sleeping like an angel there in the bed, your slow, steady, even breathing came through your nose.

“Why the high security?” Demsey asked as he kneeled next to your bed and dared to pick up your hand and hold it, making sure it was still warm and still had life left in it and once he established the touch, the panic and anxiety in his own chest immediately melted away but is possessive protectiveness seemed to be stronger than ever as he didn’t want to leave your side now.

“We wanted to make sure Audra and her medicine were kept safe from tampering with. But one of her last words as she held onto consciousness was concern for how you were faring.” Calla informed him as she tried to keep her scheming grin to herself but her and Axal still shared a meaningful look.

“She’s...an angel.” Was all Demsey could bring himself to say before your other brothers knocked on the secret door and Demsey stood up but couldn’t bring himself to let go of your hand.

“He just wanted to make sure she was ok.” Axal told his half brothers.

“Good, We will be taking shifts all night to make sure she is ok and nothing is tampered with.” Ocerian insisted.

“Ramsey and I will take the first shift.” Axal insisted.

“Can I take part in the shifts?” Demsey asked hopefully, even though by now, he felt his feet practically plant themselves into the floor.

“Can you stay up for the next three hours?” Axal asked.

“No problem, I wouldn’t be able to sleep otherwise.” Demsey insisted as he let go of your hand to get a chair and bring it to your bedside.

“Then Ramsey and I will take the hallway.” Axal agreed before the rest of your brothers and half brothers decided on which shifts they wanted to take and shut the door before the same came to pass among Benny and Calla’s brothers in the hallway outside your bedroom door.

“Demsey, a word of advice.” Calla said as she settled into the bed as Demsey once again picked up your hand to hold it reverently from his spot as he sat down and leaned his elbows on his knees to be as close to you as he could.

“Starting now, do not continue to hide your attraction, affection or attachment to Audra. It is only because she expressed concern for you before she passed out that you were even let into the room because we all knew that Audra would find it comforting when she wakes up. Otherwise, you would have been sent away. It is not lost on anyone, and we all could see that the Dauphin and Dauphine were your only obstacles to her and our understanding of English customs culture, as limited as it is, was our only reason for not interfering either, and now that those have been removed. It is expected you respond in kind. Do not disappoint Audra, she deserves better than she has been getting. It is her own honor that has kept her away from you at the ball at Heavenfield because she believed you were already attached and whoever else has kept your heart and mind from her, you need to make the choice right here and now, who is more important, Audra or whoever else it is. Audra has already rid herself of any and all other obstacles and if she has to make it any clearer to you that she wants to be pursued by you, we are all going to think you were dropped on your head as a baby and are now retarded.” Calla insisted as Demsey nearly snorted snot onto you from snickering a laugh and had to use his free hand to cover up his nose and mouth to keep that from happening.

“Message received loud and clear. I just didn’t want to come on too strongly or too quickly, because that’s what Ramsey had done at the ball and he obviously crashed and burned and I did not want to scare her off, so I thought a more subtle approach would be wise.” Demsey replied.

“Well, yes, true as that may be. Enough of it. We’re all getting impatient. Audra included, but she has become too proper in the English sense to say anything but she is getting weary from restraining herself.” Calla revealed.

“Well when she recovers from this, I will clear the air and set this matter straight with her and make my intentions known in the most clear, direct and forthcoming way possible.” Demsey pacified.

“Oh just pin her up against a wall and kiss her, that’ll do you just fine.” Calla waived off as she turned and pillowed your head with her arm so she could feel if you would move as she cuddled into your side as Demsey huffed a laugh even though his smile was practically dreamy.

“Oh you think I’m joking, I’m serious.” Calla insisted.

“Oh no, I believe you.” Demsey reassured her.

“If she wakes up and returns to her old self again, you may not recognize her though. But at the same time, she has been sorely missed, and we would all be happy to have the old Audra back, I wish you could have met her at her strongest. She was always a force to be reckoned with and always fun and delightful to be around and her energy was that of a child at the first snowfall, eager to leave the house to play in it. And she just radiated happiness and bright sunshine and it’s like her sunshine has been hidden behind a thick fog on a cloudy day this whole time, but tonight it felt like it was just about to lift, and then this happened, we will just have to wait and see.” Calla said sleepily before she seemed to fall asleep herself before Demsey brought your hand up to his mouth to kiss the back of it sweetly and noticed a blank journal and got up and got brought the little bedside table closer to himself and grabbed a pen and decided to write it all down, all of his feelings and his intent, all of it as he happily did this to keep himself awake as he could hear Axal and Ramsey continue to be intimate behind the hidden door which caused him to roll his eyes and shake his head but at the same time, he was relieved that Ramsey was the way he was so that he dismissed himself from you.

“Word’s written down mean nothing without those same words said or those thoughts put into action.” Calla said from her place next to you in the bed, the scratching of the pen writing on the paper waking her up a few pages later as she didn’t even bother to open her eyes.

“I know, go to sleep Calla.” Demsey answered as he already had to refill the reservoir of ink in the pen itself since he had already used up what was in it the first time.

“That’s sister Calla to you.” Calla sassed with a smug grin and a dreamy smile of her own.

“Of course, how could I make such a mistake, Sister.” Demsey retorted with a fond grin of his own before she seemed to settle back into sleep.

The three hours practically flew by like the blink of an eye before Ocearian and Zax came for the second shift as Leumeni came inside the room and was pleasantly surprised to see Demsey in the room as Demsey had slid the notebook under your pillow right as he heard your other brothers in the secret hallway.

“Here to take the second shift?” Demsey asked.

“Yup.” Leumeni confirmed, rubbing what little sleep he had gotten from his eyes as Calla had woken up just a little to witness the change as Demsey left through the passage as Axal himself escorted Demsey back to his own room before going back Ramsey’s room where Octavia and Drina were already fast asleep in Ramsey’s bed as Ramsey happily got in and cuddled with Octavia to get some much needed sleep as Ramsey came in and did the same with Drina so that the guys framed the girls in the oversized bed.

“And?” Leumeni asked Calla.

“He spent practically the whole time writing Audra what was surely the longest and most wordy love letter ever.” Calla answered as she tried to fall back asleep.

“Where is it? I would have thought such a thing would be draped over her like a blanket.” Leu noted as he sat down the chair that Demsey had vacated.

“Knowing him? Under her pillow.” Calla said before she felt under the pillows and found the journal and moved it to be between her own and Audra’s to keep it protected from other prying eyes.

“Oh how gentlemanly of him.” Leumeni chuckled.

“Poor thing. I can’t imagine what kind of frustrations he has pent up.” Calla smiled as she settled back into a good sleeping position as Leumeni raspberried in a scoff.

“I can’t imagine how full his balls must be, since childhood probably, he has to tuck them into his boots.” Leumeni teased, finally being free to make such candid and crude jokes which got Calla to snort a laugh.

“I’m surprised yours aren’t dragging on the floor and will be until you can propose to Kiera and finally unload into her, poor thing will fill up like a balloon.” Calla tossed right back.

“They’re about to be, but the wait will be worth it. She may live in a very strict “polished” society but she is the kind of rebellious wild thing underneath, I can’t wait to see her go practically feral.” Leumeni smiled fondly which got Calla to smile too.

“Heaven forbid she learn of your previous attachment to Audra, she might just go so feral, she’ll go full shield maiden. She’s the jealous type.” Calla murmured.

“Yeah, I’d give everything for all those letters I wrote Audra to never see the light of day, honestly.” Leumeni confessed.

“Well, nothing has been produced yet, and if they haven’t been given up yet, I doubt they ever will.” Calla speculated.

“Gods I hope so.” Leumeni said as he changed how he was sitting in the chair to be more comfortable.

“Good night Leu, watch over her medicine.” Calla instructed sleepily before she dozed off again.

Come morning, after getting exactly 11 and a half hours of sleep, you were surprised to see your heir father in the room, half dozing off as he sat in the chair next to the bed.

“Father?” You asked when you awoke and noticed Calla was practically drooling next to you as she continued to sleep herself.

“Goodmorning Sweetheart. How do you feel?” He asked.

“Uh, groggy, what are you doing here?” You asked him.

“Watching over you, the whole, entire family as well as Calla and her brothers and Benny and her brothers took turns watching over you, to make sure you were not disturbed or that your medicine was not tampered with.” He answered.

“We are in the Palace of Windsor, I doubt…” you began to voice before your heir father gave you a look.

“Yeah, you’re right, better safe than sorry. Uh, can you, call for some hot water?” You requested.

“Of course.” He agreed before he got up and went to the door and told his own sons the order as they readily left their post to deliver the message to the kitchens.

“Everyone watched over me?” You asked.

“Everyone, even the Voyambi’s got involved, I heard that Demsey took this spot on the first watch. Didn’t sleep a wink until Leumeni took his place.” Your heir father reported.

“Even when he was affected…?” You asked.

“You were the only one really affected, Demsey and Axal only threw up once and were much better after. But Dr. Chu, he came and told us that Grevu noticed you still had mourkatili in you and his spit spurned you to purge whatever was left in you out because he was able to imbue the spit with some kind of magic as only dragons still can I guess. That’s why the grass where you threw up in the yard turned violet. It was all dug up and burned just to be safe so that it wouldn’t hurt anyone else. Apparently this medicine will finish it for good.” Sylvar reported.

“He affected Demsey and Axal to bring attention to it.” You realized as you laid back in bed and stretched but smiled fondly.

“Why he would have chosen now of all times though, he could have done that when he first came.” You noted as you frowned in confusion.

“Grevu probably had little opportunity, we haven’t been able to ride since they first came.

“That is true, he must have sensed it that first time but waited until the next opportunity and last night was the first opportunity.” You realized.

“I called him a bratty rat with wings for blowing snot on me.” You admitted.

“Well he is that.” Sylvar nodded in agreement before there was a gentle knock on the door and a maid came in with a morning tea service but had not added the tea leaves to the hot water.

“Thank you, please report to the household that I survived the night just fine and am obviously awake.” You told her.

“Yes my Lady.” She curtsied and left the room as you turned and put your legs over the bed and began the preparations to the tea and the medicinal tonic left behind by Dr. Chu.

“Your strength and resilience has never ceased to amaze me.” Your heir father praised you.

“Thank you.” You thanked him graciously as your face fell.

“Why does this displease you?” He asked.

“Honestly, I’m tired of people telling me how strong I am, how resilient I am, how many hits I can take while still being able to survive the blows, each hit that didn’t kill me did not make me stronger, all it did was just hurt me more, nothing more than that, other than to make me bleed more. It would have been so much easier to give in and just let it kill me, at least I would have been dead and therefore numb to everyone’s disappointment.” You confessed plainly as you braced yourself for the tonic and blew on it to try to cool it down before grimacing as you drank it down before trying to chase it down by eating a scone.

“You’re right. You can start now if you wish, bow out of the Kamoba battle and never get hit again.” Sylvar offered.

“Now let’s not get crazy.” You put your hand up in a stopping motion.

“But if memory serves me right, this tea will make my close proximity to a toilet most important and I want my privacy to bear that particular burden.” You offered as you then poured the now steeped tea out of the little tea pot and filled the same teacup you used for the tonic.

“Of course.” He agreed before he got out of the chair and kissed the crown of your head before he saw himself out before the tea and the tonic seemed to have an immediate effect as you hastily got up and went to the toilet of the bathroom in your room and sat down and began to have a very intense bowel movement and what felt like your period, but it was in one solid chunk of blood, that bled purple into the water of the toilet bowl but after you passed it, you bled no further but at the same time, you were relieved and happy that because it bled no more and nothing purple was left in that part of your body, that your womb was now restored to you which made you smile in relief as a few grateful tears came to your eyes, before another bout of powerful bowel movements passed and you felt five stone lighter.

“Wow, ok then,” you muttered as once you finished you quickly flushed it and went back to the bed and forced yourself to finish the tea before Calla stirred awake.

“Good morning.” You greeted her.

“Good morning.” She greeted you sleepily.

“How do you feel?” She asked.

“Well, I just had the dump like the orcs of old, when they used to crap out the tomb meat and the farway bread.” You answered her.

“And was it violet?” She asked.

“It sure was.” You confirmed.

“Good. Oh there’s something, that once you return to yourself, read what is in the journal under your pillow. I think you’ll find it most interesting and exciting to read.” Calla insisted as she grasped the journal under your pillow and pushed it towards you.

“It should be blank.” You frowned.

“It is blank no more.” Calla smiled in delight before she got out of bed and put a robe on.

“I”m glad you made it through, when you’re done crapping your guts out, come down to breakfast and get them refilled.” She urged you as you sat there and looked from her to the journal curiously.

But just before you could try to open there was another knock on the door. And you quickly shoved it under your pillow again when your half sisters, your mothers and grandmothers were there, in their morning robes to check on you.

“How are you feeling?” Your mother asked.

“Uh, I’ve already drank the tonic and the tea, if you can have someone bring me a breakfast of just simple breads, butters, honey, maybe some eggs, maybe some sausage, but not anything really spicy, the tea is making my closeness to a toilet an absolute necessity until it can run through me.

“Ah, of course, of course,” they readily agreed before they hugged you before you had to interrupt them to run to the bathroom again.

“Well, we should be letting her have her privacy.” Your mother urged them but stayed behind to watch over you herself.

“Anyone else still in here?” You called out.

“Just me Addie.” Your mother called to you.

“Hey, I’m gonna be in here for a while, there’s a journal under my pillow, could you bring it to me so I’m not bored out of my mind?” You requested as curiosity was eating you to see who had written what in it.

“Of course,” she readily agreed as she got it and came into the bathroom just as the last of the mourkatili left you as your hair made the most amazing transformation right before her eyes. Which made her drop the journal on the ground as she gasped and yelled before your other female family members came rushing back into the room and then the bathroom to where your mother was standing the doorway, frozen in shock.

“Audra?!” They yelled.

“What?” You asked your mother as they all came into the bathroom to see you sitting on the toilet as the change continued to take place in your hair as they all gasped as they stared at you in shock and awe.

“What? What is it?” You asked them before your half sister went and got a little mirror and brought it to you.

You gasped in astonishment as you looked at yourself and touched your hair to look at how it was still transforming in front of your eyes.

“Call for Dr. Chu!” You yelled at them before they practically tripped over each other trying to get out of there and out of the room quickly before Amara, Kiera and little Callie came rushing in the moment they left to still see you on the toilet, holding the mirror as you stared at your reflection before they saw you and gasped themselves.

“Don’t say anything! Not to anyone! Especially to Demsey!” You pleaded.

#Blood For Gold #Blood For Gold Chapter 17 #regency era orc period drama #regency era orcs #moura #mouras #orcs #orc reader insert

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darkestwolfx · 4 years

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Hyperspeed - Re-Review #51

So, Scott’s back! He’s obviously been making the most of that vacation time Virgil mentioned, or maybe sorting out things for Tracy Industries? Who knows, choose what you like, but he’s back in blue!

And it’s another high-speed, runaway train (of sorts). He get all the best jobs, doesn’t he?

And hello to you David Tennant (aka Tycho Reeves, billionaire inventor), thank you for joining us in this great episode of TAG looking very like yourself.

Is anyone else getting 10th Doctor vibes? All we need now are his 3D glasses and the look is complete. Really though, they even put him in blue!

So this is the Hypercar - it’s like the next addition to the monorail or the underground (evolved obviously, the underground is redundant by 2060). It’s even faster than FireFlash apparently. That’s saying something.

Now, let’s meet Gertie Bunson - the next annoying reporter to grace TAG with her presence. Really, let’s just stop writing in reporters hey? That’s an idea right there.

“An excited crowds awaits the arrival of the very first Hypercar, which should be here any minute now! Isn’t that right Tycho?”

“Less than a minute in fact. We’ll be pulling to Nightbridge Station in sixteen seconds. Hmm, that’s two seconds early.”

A whole two seconds? To most people, that would go completely unnoticed. Two minutes on the other hand, that we tend to notice. Two seconds? I’m not a clock watcher.

“Here they come now! This is where Tycho and his guest will be arriving- whoa! Wasn’t it supposed to stop?”

Well, if you hadn’t asked that, Gertie, we might never have guessed that was the intention - you know, always try and cover your mistakes.

And then - in very 10th Doctor fashion - Tycho starts rambling on (like all great scientists apparently do) about the size of bugs. Oh, but, did we mention they’re still speeding up? Oopps.

Time to make that call, I think.

John is clearly taking his turn for vacation time now as Grandma’s at the desk doing a spell of monitor duty. At least it keeps her out of the kitchen!

“If anybody can catch up to you it’s us!”

Yep! Now we get to see them try. Love high speed chases me.

“Boys, sorry to interrupt your beauty sleep with an early morning emergency, but these people need help.”

“Time to fly.”

“And I’ll try to work out what has gone wrong with this amazingly brilliant design!”

Sleepy? Wake up as quick as you like, Scott, but ideally before you pilot One, and ideally before the Hypercar crashes. Gosh, really, what has that boy been doing since ‘Long Haul’?

“Closing in on the Hypertube now. Any luck figuring out what’s gone wrong Brains? Brains?”

“Uh, I think your friend may be a tad... starstruck.”

A tad? Brains is literally frozen starting with blinky eyes.

“I’m your number one fan!”

“Well Brains, if you ever want to meet Tycho in person, we better to figure out how to stop his car.”

And then Brains does the sciency bit with a whole lot of praise thrown in. It’s like the opposite of an episode featuring Langstrom Fischler, no negative vibes here please.

“I’ll be able to rescue you after the hypercar makes a water landing.”

“No!

“Absolutely not! We’re travelling in a vacuum.”

“Hitting the atmosphere at mach eight would be like-”

“-slamming into a brick wall.”

Nice try, Scott, but it seems like you’re on delivery boy duty. I love Brains and Tycho finishing each other’s sentences.

I can’t believe this screenshot is like nowhere over the internet! Seriously Gertie being blown away by Thunderbird One’s landing due to her own stupidity is absolutely class entertainment.

“We’ve been told to evacuate the platform as Thunderbird One lands, but we’re not gonna miss a chance to bring you this thrilling live shot of- whoa! Let’s move back a bit shall we?”

It’s like Ned Cook (TOS) reincarnated. Or maybe he finally married, or had a sister we never knew about.

He looks so happy! Honestly though, I would too if I could have a friend like mini-MAX. I want one.

“If you check your sash, you’ll find a new tool of your own.”

“Thanks Brains, but what does it- Whoa!”

“Meet Mini-MAX.”

“Brains, you always surprise me.”

“Just one question. How do you expect your hypercar to catch up with Tycho’s?

“I don’t expect to catch them. I expect them to catch me.”

“I’ve begun to question the merits of this plan!”

You and me both Tycho. I know Scott lives for a bit of speed and danger but this is a new one.

“You must go faster Scott!”

“Kinda already knew that Brains.”

Tycho is a smart man. I would have strapped in as well.

“Good job! How did you make it go faster?”

“I’m not exactly sure.”

“I’ll try and figure out what you and Mini-MAX did. It may lead us to the problem.”

Now look at Mini-MAX holding on for dear life!

Good idea Brains! Let’s check in with Tycho and the others in their Hypercar, shall we?

“Bet you didn’t know you’d be getting a demonstration of our Collision Protection System, ey?”

“I feel like a balloon animal.”

Where as I saw this, and instantly my brain went;

It’s the Michelin Man!

No, seriously, it is, and he says hello;

And during these testing times, there’s something for everyone. You can join his lockdown running classes;

Or something steadier and calmer, like his yoga classes;

Feel the zen!

Or there’s even dancing classes!

P.S. Wait until we get to the end of the review, I swear this is where Brains gets his moves from. You’ll see, trust me. (And if you’re new to the Re-Review Series, my brains wonders a lot so... and if you’re not new to it, you should have expected to see this).

Right, back to impending doom;

“Tycho, so nice to finally meet you! Virtually at least.”

“Oh, impressive invention!”

It’s like Brains gets to achieve his dream meeting! That little mechanical hand is never getting washed.

Mini-MAX is great, really, I want one, but I’m with Scott here;

“Uh, guys, sorry to interrupt but uh, imminent doom?”

I called that!

“Right.”

“RAD.”

“Tycho’s design appears to be perfect. So the problem must have been a manufacturing error when the car was built.”

“I’ve been thinking the same thing. If the throttle is working, one of the plasma plugs must have machined improperly.

“Oh no.”

“Ah, a couple of bad plasma plugs should be pretty easy to fix.”

You obviously weren’t listening to Brains crucial “oh no” there Scott.

“Fixing them is the easy part, but reaching them is next to impossible.”

“The plasma plug assembly can only be accessed from outside the car. Specifically, underneath it.”

“Got ya.”

I love Mini-MAX clipping Scott to the train. I would trust Mini-MAX over my own self any day.

“Looks like a fun place to hang out.”

What is it with Scott and ‘hanging’ out? This does not look like my idea of fun, thank you very much. I would like to keep myself upright, and maybe in one of those comfy seats feeling like a balloon animal. That sounds appealing whilst the world falls apart... if you need me, I’ll be waiting out with the collision protection system and the Michelin Man.

Joke, I’ll be here working and writing the Re-Reviews! I would now like a balloon animal though...

“Dropping even a single bolt would be catastrophic!”

“I don’t think that’s going to be hard to remember Brains!”

At least we’ve graduated from ‘Runaway’ where Brains insisted Scott take notes. That would be a little impossible here, after all. The notepad would be blown away!

Borrowed just a few of Virgil’s power tools there, did you Scott? Best return them all in once piece or he might ruin your portrait too. I know he got Tycho’s from the control station, but I couldn’t resist the chance to reference ‘Inferno’ here. Whist we’re on the note of references, here’s another ’Brink of Death’ (TOS) situation.

I love our contest winners;

“That was Grandpa. He loves to go fast.”

“I do!”

“And you don’t?”

“Honestly, we’re just lucky I have thrown up yet.”

I’m with Tycho this time. Oh seems appropriate. I love that we’re breaking stereotypes here (something TAG have done pretty well at in general). You don’t have to be young to love a bit of speed.

“I probably want to replace these one at a time then huh?”

“Yes, and very carefully.”

Oh, uh, what were you saying about remembering? First the drill nearly went down and then- wait, down goes the plasma plug!

“Nice catch!”

Mini-MAX to the rescue.

“One more twist and we’ll finally be able to slow- down!”

Or not. You just had to say it.

I think Brains should have got on the phone to EOS - she knows all about hacking high-speed methods of transportation.

“Why would the speed increase at random like that! If the controls aren’t making the car go faster, then the only way it could be accelerating is... oh no! Tycho, one of your formulas has a small error.”

“Impossible! My calculations were perfect.”

“I thought so too.”

“No! That should be metres per second squared! Oh how could I be so foolish!”

“Even genius’ make mistakes.”

There goes that Scott Tracy trait of forgiveness and acceptance again. I do love it when they show moments like this. Of all the brothers, Scott is the best at staying calm and talking to people, reassuring them that things aren’t always black and white. These scenes were always building towards something, and we’re going to see the real test in the next episode. To do a job like this you have to be selfless, but Scott is almost self-sacrificing (well, the whole family is in a sense), but remember with Kat, for example, Scott had no reason to stay, but he did. It’s just him, and this is an excellent follow through.

“Yes, but my mistake is going to destroy us all! There’s no way for us to stop.”

“Let’s just take a breath and slow down so we can think this through.”

“Slow down...”

“Yeah, that’s the idea.”

“No, slow down! We don’t have to stop the car we just need to be in a slower vehicle that won’t vaporize when it’s hits the atmosphere! Oh, you’re a genius! Right the vehicle will need to be fast enough to reach us with enough thrust to slow down in time.”

“Brains, we need Thunderbird Four inside the Hypertube ASAP. And put it in there backwards.”

The man with a plan is on a roll again!

Cut back to Gertie Bunson reporting again, and a nice little reconstruction on Thunderbird Four’s traditional launch sequence, because Thunderbird Four has arrived! A submersible out of water.

And now we go from Scott Photo Central to squid screen time!

“Um, are we sure this is a good idea?”

Maybe not Gordon, but let’s launch before anyone answers you.

“Bad idea!”

And then you can answer yourself! Great times.

“You’re losing speed, Gordon!”

“Don’t worry, Brains. If I can see it, I can catch it.”

You know, I am jealous of how good an aim every member of this family has. I am rubbish at catch.

“Welcome aboard.”

Gordon steadying Scott is like brilliant. We need more moments of these two for sure.

“It’s working. We’re slowing down.”

“But will it be enough?”

And there go the hypercars... exploding.

“Virgil, they’re loading into Thunderbird Four, get ready to show them a way out.”

“FAB.”

And because you’ve got to get a daily dose of Virgil in there;

“Let’s hope you guys make a slower, gentler exit.”

“Hey, I’m nothing if not gentle! Brace for impact!”

We’ll ignore the oxymoron there.

“We made it! We didn’t burn up!”

Yeah, just give away to the poor civilians that you weren’t expecting to survive, Gordon. That’s really reassuring.

“Did you guys have a plan for how to land this thing?”

It’s Gordon and Virgil, Scott. There’s always a plan. Even if it’s a little improvised or thrown together at the last minute.

“Um, kinda.”

Just another mid-air catch of Thunderbird Four, nothing special to see here, folks.

Who am I kidding? Bring in the applause! We’ve seen this move in ‘Extraction’ and ‘Clean Sweep’ and Virgil never gets it wrong. Takes talent.

“Everyone ok?”

“Can we do that again!”

“No thanks.”

Yeah, I’m with Tycho again. Just watching it made my head spin.

“Big thanks to International Rescue for saving our lives.”

“And for the thrill of a lifetime.”

Nice to get a thank you in there for once.

More high fives! Is there a gif set of the TAG high fives yet? Keep them coming I like them. Nice happy moments, high fives. Brains has basically just got his dream come true!

Of this I have no wordable description, and it looks like Grandma doesn’t either.

Do you see?

Look at Mini-MAX! He’s like a robot version of a dog. I really want one, and I’m sad we never see him again! Bye Mini-MAX!

“I did - finally - get you to London.”

“Thanks, but um... how are we getting back to Tokyo?”

“Oh... yes, uh... Scott?”

Yeah, just turn to our ideas man. He’ll always come up with something. It’s a little like TOS ‘Cry Wolf’ here, where Scott lets Tony and Bob ride in Thunderbird One. He’s a crowd pleaser, this one.

“Want to go for a ride?”

“Wow!”

“Oh um, that would be great I guess.”

“Now, tell me about those engines.”

That smile of Tycho’s as they walk to Thunderbird One - goodness I love how much is contained in that single expression.

Oh, but don’t forget Gertie! Desperately trying to get her scoop - very Ned Cook. Maybe she’s his daughter? I don’t think I entertained that possibility earlier...

“Scott Tracy, any chance we can get a quick interview?”

*Engines start... deliberately*

“You know what? Nevermind. Another time. Maybe.”

What gave it away that he didn’t want to talk to you?

This ending scene is one of my favourite, little sweet moments. After an epic rescue like that, this was needed.

Well, let’s look to Monday for the final episode of Series 2! I can’t believe we’ve already made it this far. We can tell something is coming though - the end credit music had a slight variant to it. The musical score in this series really was on point.

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deargenz-blog · 5 years

Text

The Night I Was Almost Kidnapped, Raped, & Killed

*NOT* Clickbait. A True Story | Read to the end.

There are no explicit depictions of violence, rape, or murder in this story.

Okay, this is a long one, BUT I promise that it’s important. Grab some tea and head on back here.

Ready? Alright, this is how it happened:

It was around 7 o’clock on a November night. I was on my way to rehearsal but I stopped to return something at the supermarket.

It was uncharacteristically busy for a weekday night and there was no parking to be found in the main lot so I parked in the side-section, perhaps about 30 feet from the main action.

There were dozens of people milling around in the front, which was well-lit. I was on a mission, so I wasted no time walking in and taking care of business. I walked back out and past several groups of people. I quickly walked back to my car, and in one swift motion, popped the lock, got in, and as my lock clicked, someone started banging on my passenger side window.

“Hey! Hey! Excuse me! Could you please help me?!”

I was driving a coupe at the time, and its stance was low to the ground. He never stooped to peer inside so I had to duck down to see who was talking to me. He was silhouetted by the lights behind him but I could tell he was young — early 20s — and he was dressed in casual clothes.

“Yes?” I replied.

“Could you please roll down your window?”

I eased the passenger window down about an inch.

“Could you open it more?”

I asked him about what he needed.

Very rapidly, he said:

“My family… we just ran out of gas. My grandma’s with us. We’re in that mini-van over there.”

He pointed behind where we were, gesturing towards the front of the store.

“Now we can’t get home. We need some help. Can you help us?”

He called over his shoulder.

“Yes! I’m just talking to her right now, Grandma! I’ll be right there!”

I started to turn to see who he was talking to. I had barely moved when he slammed on my passenger window again. BAM! BAM! BAM!

“Hey! Look at me! Look over here! Listen! I need you! Will you help us? We really need help!”

Now, let me tell you: there was no fucking way that I was getting out of that car, but I was genuinely confused.

“What are you asking?”

He replied: “I want you to give me a ride.”

I told him that I was sorry but, no.

“What do you mean? I told you that we need help. My grandma’s waiting in the car and we have no way to get home.”

And that’s when he tried opening my door. He pulled and pulled on the handle.

“Please, I need your help! I just need a ride! It won’t take that long!”

“No.”

I started my car and put it in reverse but before it could even roll, he muttered a bunch of expletives under his breath and stormed off.

I backed out of the spot and drove towards the exit, getting a good look at the front of the store that he had been gesturing towards. He had disappeared into the crowd and, of course, there was no mini-van to be found.

The exchange lasted no more than 2–3 minutes. It all happened very quickly.

And that’s because it was designed to.

* * *

When I got to the theater that night, I told my cast mates about what had happened. The gals in the cast thought it was “weird” and were relieved that they didn’t live near there.

I spoke to one of my best friends on the phone the next day to firm up plans for dinner. She lived about 15 minutes away from where it had happened. She dismissed the whole incident and assured me that she would be fine because she never went to that supermarket.

Not one of them got what the point was.

Additionally, you should know that when I reported the incident to the store, they told me that I “probably shouldn’t park there in the future because there aren’t any security cameras over there”, even though it’s where their employees are told to park, and yes, this was a major retailer.

That little jewel of information isn’t pivotal to this story — I just thought it was too ridiculous not to share.

The police were more receptive but still, since nothing had really happened, I was basically just reporting it to put it on their radar (you should always do that, no matter how silly you might feel, okay?).

* * *

There are 2 important points I want to make here:

The illusion of safety is shockingly compelling.

Muscle memory saved my life that night.

When I shared that story with people in my circle, I found it bizarre that these women all believed that they were safe as long as they didn’t go “there.” The store was located in a fine town that doesn’t routinely experience a large amount of violent crime. It’s a regular place, as common as they come. It could have happened anywhere and to anyone. It just happened to be me that night.

Believing that you can consider yourself protected as long as you stay away from certain places or don’t do certain things is incredibly dangerous. Following the “rules” can get you killed just as easily as breaking them does. It’s like when people find out that their next-door-neighbor’s a serial killer and they’re all like, “you know, I never would have guessed. He always seemed like such a nice guy...”

Because here’s the truth:

I did everything that I was supposed to do that night.

I parked in a spot as close as I could to the entrance of the store, it was in a well-lit area, I was aware of my surroundings, walked quickly to and from my car, and I locked my door the absolute second I got inside. There were many other people around that night but the idea of safety in numbers is also an illusion. Most people aren’t paying attention.

As I said, muscle memory saved my life that night. My entire childhood was my mom drilling in to me to be aware of my surroundings in public places and to always lock my door. She would literally quiz me in stores about the people around me to make sure I was paying attention. Think of the pilot for the show Psych — “how many hats are in the restaurant?” — that was my mom and me. I know that’s the exception, and not the rule — most people aren’t raised like that.

And yet, despite being as ninja-like as I had been taught to be, I never saw or heard him coming that night but he must have been damn close to get to my door as quick as he did. If I hadn’t thrown that lock, he still would have pawed the handle and would have been inside in a flash. I am so thankful for that habit.

* * *

So, the title of this post is: “The Night I Was Almost Kidnapped, Raped, and Killed” and right about now, you’re probably thinking that this was, in fact, massive clickbait on my part, because how could I possibly know if that would have indeed been my fate if anything had gone differently?

A few days after the incident, a news story broke: In several towns in my area— including the one that I was in that night — there were reports of a group of men targeting women in supermarket parking lots, where one of them would approach her and ask for help, and then they were abducted and raped. One of them managed to get away before they could kill her.

Always remember to lock your door, kids.

#violence #rape #feminism #intersectional feminism #social justice #assault #life #life advice

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tumblunni · 5 years

Text

Random game idea that came to mind: clockwork man simulator

I dunno, i just got the general image in my head of a soft homey aesthetic equivelant of that terrible game about the androids. Itd be more like just a life-living game, like stuff like animal crossing or harvest moon. Just fully exploring the perspective of these creatures and the world that created them, rather than BOOM ACTION SETPIECES or whatever

I only have some scattered ideas for it tho, and not really any idea of a main plot or gameplay gimmick or 3 act structure or like.. Anything to take this from idea to game, lol.

SO ITS MISC IDEAS TIME

* more of an olden timey fantasy style instead of sci fi. Youre still an artificial person created to run errands for humans, but youre more of a combination of clockwork and magic. There's still an element of being made of inanimate object parts but there's also some glowy energy core or something. Possibly would be interesting if it was something unusual to use as a power source? Like i dunno, a bell or an acorn or a teacup or one of those rocks with the hole in it that sometimes wash up on beaches. Or just a glowy orb of Generically Defined Energy Substance, which flows through you like aesthetically pleasing glowy veins

* you're a service clockwork homunculus thingy, bought by a disabled person who needs help around the house. PERHAPS A SWEET OLD GRANDMA! Whatever i decide on (IT'LL PROBABLY BE THE GRANDMA), your owner is a kind person who sees you as part of the family and feels guilty using an android as they believe you are absolutely a real person and wish they could set you free. Unfortunately theyre kinda one of the people who needs androids the most, as they dont have any family who can help them. At the same time though, they are very old and quite resigned to nobody caring about them, plus theyre just a good person who'd put your life over their own. So i feel like the plot would literally start with this person trying to set you free and you are just like "i do npt understand the concept, that is not in my programming". Its become kind of a morning routine now to hear "youre free! Get out, dammit!" and have a brisk argument over breakfast that inevitably always ends with you refusing. Grandma's prpbably got so desperate they're resorting to tactics like trying to trick you into getting on the bus out of town or "if you dont leave im gonna hold my breath and i wont stop til i pass out". All inevitabley failing! So they just try and help you understand your sentience and become more independant, encouraging you to take free time every day and go around the town to enjoy yourself. Which is kinda a concept you dont understand yet, so its just like MISSION RECEIVED: WALK IN CIRCLE AROUND PERIMETER OF TOWN. And its kind of a hit and miss experience because the people in this town have never seen an android before- this magic is usually a thing for rich people and this proposed scheme of disability assistance androids is still in its test run. Some people are suspicious or hateful, but there are others who welcome you to the village and brighten up your day. Not just a world of 100% everyone assholes to make a melodramatic point delivered awfully through racist stereotypes.

* i think a good subplot with this disabled grandma would be to show her regaining her independance too. Like she starts off quite fatalistic and used to nobody caring about her, all this mobility aid stuff is new and she feels like its too complicated and she'll never get it, or its too expensive and she doesnt deserve it, or all the nonsense that ableist society drills into people. But with the support of her new friend and access to more tools to help take her life into her own hands, she starts regaining hope again! Like ironically she felt like her previous carers were all the kinds of awful things people expect these androids to be. Robotic, emotionless monsters who dont care about the person's feelings and comfort, and certainly not independance. She suffered from a lot of the same nightmares that androids do too: being forced into a rigid schedule, limited in her options, deprived of basic rights, being told how she's supposed to feel, etc. But to an android that all seems like an inefficient way to do things! My function is healing and human healing efficiency is decreased in this circumstance! I am incapable of ignoring data due to personal bias! Basically imagine MAGIC BAYMAX ok. Anyway this plot would progress with grandma regaining her smile and eventually itd be a super happy day when she's able to get her new wheelchair that she can wheel to the shops on her own without needing someone to push her. Itd be really sweet from the player's perspective to get used to saying goodbye to her every morning and then suddenly you see her wandering around the shops with everyone else and she can become a part of the vibrant town too. Im thinking give her more complex AI than all the other villagers even, like give her a more complicated set of actions and move routes and stuff like SHE IS EVERYWHERE and she is LOVING IT! Life is back where it belongs: in the hands of the person living it! And it also intensifies the message of android slavery not being necessary or moral or good. Like i mean here this lady benefitted from getting an android but literally all she needed was a friend, a healthcare professional who gave a shit, and affordable access to mobility aids. Humans could have done that if they werent lazy assholes! And this android deserves the right to the same uplifting independenceifying experience they helped this grandma have!!

* random idea: all the events you encounter on each daily walk are actually stored in your inventory as items. Memories of experiences, good or bad, become literally experience for you! They each affect stats in different ways because of what you learned from that moment. Maybe bad experiences give you combat abilities and good ones help with your daily life skills and development of personality? And its possible to crack or even shatter a memory, if new experiences end up clashing with it. Usually its just 'oh i learned the more advanced version of this skill through better understanding of why humans do it', but also traumatic memories damaging good ones, and good ones helping ease traumatic ones. And maybe you could solve puzzles and make friendships through using these memory items? Youre faced with a challenge and have to make the connections in your mind to figure out which past experience is relevant here. And becoming more talented at something would help narrow down the choices you get given? And being unskilled would do screwy stuff with the interface like putting the correct option far away near the bottom or mixing up the names and icons of each memory. (Dunno how i'd program that though!)

* Maybe character customization similar to Medabots? The games were so cool and ahead of their time, you get to collect hundreds of different robot base frames and then mix and match the parts to make your own cool aesthetic! Shame it was only used for fighting though, that could be cool in a more social game too! Like go out wearing different fashions to help befriend different people, but its more fun cos its ROBOT FASHIONS! 'hey grandma do u think fred will like this arm or this arm?' She fusses over you all excitedly cos you showing an interest in fashion is a good sign of developing free will! Though you still get stuck in logic loops of 'you should wear what you like best, honey' 'HUMAN OPINION IS OF HIGHER PRIORITY' ...god i think i just made this character so i can ramble Relateable Social Anxiety Moments BUT ROBOTS

* possible ideas for Memory Events you can find around town! Meeting a cute neighbour cat- a fascinating creature you were not programmed to deal with, as you're a hospital android who isnt even meant to leave one single room for your whole life. You get absolutely entranced by the confusing small carpet with legs, and spend all morning interrogating it on why it wishes to rub its face on you. Why is your motor overheating, tiny carpet? Human master, how do you troubleshoot this noise?

* Another idea! You get 'mission: count the steps on the stairs to town' popping out of nowhere, and at first you ignore it because this is an illogical directive that does not come from a human. But it keeps happening every time you go here!! You try finding new ways to get to town crossing through fields or forests or walking directly into the path of a horsedrawn carriage, but ALAS it seems the only efficient path is those curious curious steps! Only then do you finally realise the mystery command is coming from yourself! You're not used to this strange concept of just..wanting to do something, all by yourself. You talk to your human and she says that's 'natural curiosity', 'personality', 'free will'...things that seem impossible to understand. You ask her to take you back to the shop to get this fault fixed, but she says its good and you should try acting on it. But it'll serve no purpose!! BUT AAARGH I HAVE TO KEEP SEEING THOSE STEPS EVERYDAY!! Eventually you do count them and you find it makes you satisfied for no logical reason. And that was the end of that small crisis, but you'll forever be confused by the whole thing! The next week you're like "what if i organized all the blue things with the blue things" and youre intensely frustrated at yourself. Human grandma says this is a "taste for fashion" but you remind her that you do not have a tongue. (And then she gets you the robo parts catalog and you unlock customization. Yay!)

* Possible idea for a sad subplot! A new human visits the village and he seems very strange, sometimes seeming kind and other times being angry and standoffish. You think its a simple 'jerk with a heart of gold' story but the truth is a lot stranger! It turns out this stranger is actually an important bishop in disguise, and he has multiple androids acting as body doubles to protect him while he's on the road. Theyre supposed to just be empty husks who only know how to imitate, but they clearly have their own personalities! You're tasked with finding all these runaway androids and returning them to their master for a reward, leading to a goofy lil game of hide and seek with twelve of the same guy. But it starts to get a bit sad because they're all convinced theyre the real one, and whenever they stumble into holes in their memory they freak out. When they all see each other gathered together its an absolute despair explosion and theyre forced to face the truth. And you can help them bond together as brothers and develop their own individual identities, even helping them pick out their own new faces from your set of fashion roboparts. Sadly you cant keep them here for long because itd obviously be suspicious to have exactly twelve new people move into the town right when twelve bots went missing. So you get help from one of grandma's friends to send them off in a stagecoach to another town where they can find employment and start their own life disguised as humans. The asshole bishop obviously doesnt react well to his androids vanishing into the night, but he never thinks of blaming you because after all you're only an android and you could never choose to help others out of all that free will you dont have. He just berates you for being so incompetant as to fail his quest to find them, and you get your reward taken back. Oh no~ i am~ very ashamed~ i will go tell my human that my ocular circuits require recalibrating~ (internally: HAHA YEH FUCK U OLD MAN) Grandma is super proud of you!

And thats all i got so far

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loghainmactir · 5 years

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hewwo! i was wondering if u could pls give me some advice on starting my transition? ive been so scared to start bc of family and costs but ive decided to just. do it. yknow? like if i don't ill probably die lol. u look amazing and rly confident in yourself in all ur selfies and one day i wanna be Like That ✌️❤️

hi! ok, so first of all: yeah, i absolutely can give u advice, and second of all: i remember feeling exactly like you did. it literally wasn’t that long ago, either, it was like. 2013/14/15 (i can’t remember, time is fake, whatever lmao!). third of all: bless u yr so sweet. i still have a lotta issues with confidence (i doubt myself, my talent and what i can do literally hourly), but honestly? i love my body right now. it’s a good, genderless body, goddamnit.

long, long post ahead bc i’m trying to think of things i did and good god please take it with a grain of salt because a lot of this is just me ranting about things i wish I’D done in my own position. i’m also coming from a place where HRT and surgeries AREN’T free, so that’s also A Thing. everyone’s experience is different.

transitioning (particularly medically) really super fuckin varies country by country (and honestly probably even state by state, age by age and fuckin gender by gender because cis people won’t let us fucking BE goddamn): i don’t know where you are, so my only tips there r: find a trans friendly doctor/endo (i was kinda forced to go through a hospital bc That Was How It Was here in good ol’ Australia), and one people wholeheartedly recommend, if you wanna go that route.

my first point is make sure you find safe spaces in every goddamn aspect of your transition. medically, socially, physically. if you think your doctor is refusing you treatment or is discriminating against you, you NEED to ditch that doctor. if your friends and family are really verbally or physically violent against LGBT folks, you NEED to leave that space if you can (or not come out and wait until you can leave. seriously. i’m kinda lucky– my grandma was verbally violent against LGBT folks, and initially my mum was skepitcal, but i convinced them both to go to a group for LGBT+ parents and friends and they slowly turned around). get yourself friends, get yourself allies.

i cannot stress that enough. my first doctor refused to send my referral letter to the royal children’s hospital gender clinic because even tho he presented as a “nice” guy, he believed that because this was “”””out of the blue”””” for me, he figured he’d just Not Send It (and tried to tell me that a lotta kids there didn’t actually helpo, lol). so there i was, a young 15-16 year old alister, waiting like 2-3 months for something that didn’t even get fucking sent.

join trans groups on facebook and in real life. seriously, they’re a godsend; there’s buy-and-sells, advice posts, encouragement posts. ESPECIALLY local ones. most of them on facebook are private, meaning no one can see if you’re posting/in the group, and it’s easy to check if they’re not. these fb pages + local groups are good ways to find trans friendly spaces and doctors. i found my current doctor, who’s actually one of the very few doctors who knows what the fuck he’s on about re: trans people, through a real life trans group. they were like “oh, you should see x”, and even though he’s about 30-40 minutes away from me, he’s brilliant and honestly saved my life.

along those lines: figure out what you want from your transition, and then realize & accept that this may change (and it also may not change!). very early on, i was super insistent that i wanted phalloplasty and to wear packers, and now i couldn’t care less. at first, i identified as agender, and then as a trans guy/ftm, and now i identify as a Black Hole (i’m kidding, don’t @ me). like, a lotta people DON’T change their minds. but i did, some people do, and it shouldn’t be anyone’s business but your own what you want to do with your body

(sidenote: this also goes for detransitioning or stopping medical transition but continuing to socially transition/present differently. literally, it’s fine. it’s your body. fuck anyone who says otherwise.)

again: FUCK ANYONE WHO SAYS OTHERWISE.

your body is literally your body. do NOT let anyone tell you what to do with it or who you are. i had people very early on scream at me (legitimately scream and throw me out of home, thanks grandma), tell me i wasn’t actually trans, and harrass me for this shit: but frankly, if i’d put myself back in the closet, i wouldn’t be alive right now. i would’ve killed myself years ago, and i wish i wasn’t kidding. if it’s safe, you need to stand up for your own body and your rights and put yourself somewhere that will allow you to follow through. you need to keep going and keep living.

my only other two pieces of advice are “patience, baby”– like, for real, every single part of transition takes time. this varies from where you are and who’s supporting you, but it’s generally true. it takes time for people to accept new names and pronouns

(lotta people get furious about this, and i used to be one of those people, but hindsight’s a bitch and you gotta realize that… like, it’s hard for some cis people. you gotta give them a little bit of wiggle room, especially if they’ve never ever met a trans person before. it’s about reminders, reminders, reminders: which is SO hard if you’re not safe/don’t have the confidence. there IS a flip side to this though: if chad and stacey have known your new pronouns for months, now, and they keep “””slipping””” up, they’re not slipping up, honey. they’re doing it on purpose. kick their teeth in i’m kidding please don’t do this you know what i mean.)

it takes time for HRT to kick in. it takes time to gather a Look™ of your own you like, it takes time to build confidence to even tell people, it takes time to save up money for surgeries and it just… takes time. sometimes because it’s a naturally slow process, sometimes because cis people are Cis People and like to gatekeep. i remember being very young in my transition, sitting in the car after one of my appointments with the afformentioned shithead doctor bawling my eyes out because he’d told me i wouldn’t be able to access t for x amount of time and it was bullshit. this year i’ll be 2 years on t. wild, huh? there’s a lot of us and not equal amounts of resources (ESPECIALLY in public systems) depending on where you are, so you gotta be prepared to WAIT.

i’ll tell you what super helped me through those years: hyping myself up for other things! i still have the ticket from my first twenty one pilots show. that show meant SO much to me. i cried all through it, because waiting for that show kept my mind off of the wait for my royal children’s appointments (and even waiting to go up to melbourne bc my mum and i would go and get kebabs was a good thing to focus on!). keep things that aren’t trans related on hand (seriously i struggled with this because dysphoria and shit is fucking hard!! it’s easy to say but really fucking hard to put into practice).

(one day i’m gonna tell tyler and josh just how much they saved my goddamn life. i know they hear it weekly, but i will.)

my other thing is that uh. it won’t solve all your problems especially if you’ve got mental illnesses. this is a really fuckin depressing thing i had to drill into my brain, but it really helped. transitioning solved SO many of my issues. i no longer have back issues (thanks, like, literal kilo titties, lmao), i no longer have sore ribs and i can breathe and wear shirts. i lost so much weight (and am kinda gaining it back, but whatever). i no longer have anxiety about whether people can tell i’m binding– which is WILD because i used to stress the fuck out about it to the point where i never went out anywhere. i used to sit on the bus wondering if the person next to me could tell i had titties. now it literally doesn’t even register.

my issues now stem from PTSD, depression, BPD and ADHD. how do you fix this? you don’t. but what HAS helped is finding a therapist who won’t pressure you into talking about trans shit. lemme tell you: this shit gets exhausting after the fifth time of “oh i googled ‘can you become a boy’ when i was, like, nine” (this is my go to story because this memory is so vivid). of course, there’s gonna be moments where you HAVE to: my therapist recently actively asked me to briefly run through it for my PTSD report. but otherwise we literally haven’t talked about it and that is a GODSEND (because i don’t need it. if you need it, that’s good, too!). having a therapist that you can just wordvomit at wrt anything is literally the best thing and can be super helpful– seriously, there were a few trans-related sessions where i just snarled about the bullshit gatekeeping and the bastard i had to see for my therapist letter (oooh, every time i think abt the fact that it was something like $400-500 for two fucking sessions i get so mad lol), but outta 14 it’s really only like 2-3 of them.

but yeah. that’s it. i dunno, these are things that i’ve learnt and sorta… like to think as helpful for myself. of course, this could be different for you: you’re not me, you’re entirely different, in no doubt an entirely different country, social, financial, mental state. i was FUCKED UP when i first came out. i didn’t know that then, but i do now. i spent a lotta time by myself and that’s not healthy, so i really encourage you to reach out to our community, local and worldly, because oh my god, we’re here for you. we are SO here for you.

#long post #sorry if you need this formatted for ease of reading please shout at me. i really word vomited all over this #my transition #trans #anon #asks #iodk what else to tag this as

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iammarylastar · 7 years

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The Exception part 2: The run.

He squeezed her hand tighter in his. Shifting his body to scoot closer to her, he wrapped her securely in his arm, keeping them from jerking as the car swerved sharply to the right.

“It’s OK Mieke. Everything’s gonna be fine.” He drew his lips into a reassuring smile. But his eyes told her another story.

Gripping her rounded belly, she tried her best to suppress the grimace from her tired face.

Her back and abdomen hurt like hell but she never would let him know. Stefan was too anxious about the baby and their escape out of England, he could have cancelled the whole thing if he had known. She tried to relax her tensed body but the pain was alarmingly growing higher. Breathe Mieke!

“Cameron easy!” Stefan patted the driver’s shoulder. He too would be more comfortable if their friend could slow down a bit. Not that he wanted to enjoy the view, no, it was the middle of the night, but the relentless rough slalom started to get him sick. And guessing the discomfort through Mieke’s face didn’t help. He needed a smoke, so badly, but he was cursed with bad timing. Again.

“Sorry guys” the man answered “I’m doing my best with what’s left of that damn road. It’s like moles had invaded London and had fun to drill holes every fucking inch.” He glanced in the rear-view mirror and apologized for the curse. “Sorry Mieke…”

She swallowed a smirk, in a lame attempt to forgive him. As if it mattered. Moles. Everyone would have rather liked moles’ holes.

But it wasn’t. London had been under attack for months now. More than a year has gone by since England had declared war against Germany and its insane leader. The situation was going worse and worse not only in England but everywhere in Europe. That’s what motivated them to leave. Mieke didn’t want to give birth to their unexpected first child in a country in war.

War reminded her painful memories. Both her father and her first husband were killed. But first and foremost, she hated that awful Aryan race theory and the inhuman hunt for the Jewish people. Her people. She ceased to believe in God, after all the atrocities she had witnessed and those Stefan told her about the first world war, but Jewish blood was still running in her veins and through their growing child.

Stefan was not afraid by the war, he had been a soldier his entire life, ready to die for the Fatherland. But now that the poor Fatherland had become insane and cruel, his priorities had changed. He was devoted to her wife, body and soul and nothing else mattered than run for cover and offer a safer and saner place to settle his family.

When it came clear they couldn’t stay here, they both decided to try their luck in America. A country with better ideals and aspirations than bombing and destruction. The country of second chance and promised new start.

Through the decision was easy, taking flight was harder, mostly in circumstances of war. They were not the only candidates to exile and finding a boat to New York and enough money to bribe the right pen pusher and pay for the smuggler had been quite difficult. But they had connections. Thanks to Mieke’s job for the English crown, they had been provided with authentic falsified documents in a record time and for a reasonable price. And they had Cameron. He proposed a bunch of names which sounded more English than Brandt. America opened its arms to Jewish people, running for their lives, but unlikely to former German officers under Hitler’s command. Changing their names was the better way to avoid questioning and more troubles, even if it hurt Stefan to agree with the fact his son wouldn’t carry his real name.

Cameron was their neighbour, Wilma’s son precisely. He was a carpenter and often asked Stefan to give him a hand on a jobsite. He was kind enough to keep the hardest tasks for himself, Stefan’s condition kept him from carrying what’s heavy or hammerinĝ for too long. Besides that, Stefan was very capable and handy. He paid well and was always the life of the party. His great sense of humour fit Stefan’s and the pair had Mieke laughed out loud, which was music to their ears. Wilma lived next door, literally and was a delightful old lady, even if the loss of her two younger sons at the battlefield had diminished her. Far away from being a weak grandma, she was a strong, hilarious and loving woman, maybe a little bit too crazy when her brain played tricks. As a former self-made midewife, she showered Mieke with advices and old wives cures and predicted a boy. Which Mieke and Stefan took as fact, since Wilma was known to be unfailing. The aromatic herbs she prescribed to cure Mieke’s nauseas at the early stage of her pregnancy worked magic and since she advised that having sex was good for the baby, Stefan would agree with anything she’d say.

They finally reached the harbour, Cameron driving slowly and lightless along the docks, not to draw attention on them.

He finally stopped at the right spot of the loading area, where the next contact was supposed to wait for them and help them to board surreptitiously.

The cold air of February hit them as they get out of the car and despite her heavy coat, Mieke shivered. Stefan immediately wrapped her to warm her up, gently stroking her back, soothing both her pain and misery. He could have allowed himself that smoke he was craving but couldn’t resign himself to let go of her. She was cold and frightened, he had to be there and protect her.

Mieke felt better with her husband blanketed around her, whispering some comforting words in her ear. She melted into him, savouring this last moment of calm before the storm. Time has come to say goodbye, to England and Cameron. Through she felt thankful to this great country which welcomed her pregnant then married, leaving Cameron behind, unsure of his future and safety, pretty sure to never see him again, left her heartbroken and in tears.

“Take care love ” Cameron just uttered, stealing her from Stefan’s grip. “Travel safe and give us news when you arrive in New York.” He pulled her back just to cup her soaked face and stared at her intensely. “And keep that baby at bay for the next two weeks, so he could be born in America.” He shoved his hand in the inside pocket of his coat and handed her a paper-wrapped package, tied with a thin rope. “Mom did that for the baby. She told me to pass on her wishes of good fortune and happiness. She insisted on me to deliver her exact words. ‘I love you guys like you were my own children. This boy is somehow my grandchild and I want him safe and warm.’ He flatted his hand over her belly. ‘Travel safe my angels. I’ll pray for you every day until I get good news. And Curtis is the name you’ll give him.”

Mieke chuckled between her silent sobs and cries. Wilma harassed them with that particular name, arguing it sounded the utmost English name ever. Cameron laughed so hard at her mother, confessing the couple it was the name of her late dog.

'Yes, but it was the nicest and smartest dog ever. I pray your son to be like him.’ Wilma so seriously answered.

Mieke laughed so hard she nearly peed herself and ran to the water closet as fast as her swollen stomach allowed her. Stefan hurt himself laughing, hitting his scar in the movement. They hadn’t opted for Curtis yet.

Cameron released his grip on Mieke, only after wiping warm tears from her cheeks. “Don’t be sad love. Everything gonna be fine.” He whispered. Clinging to the package he had given her like it was a silver lining, arms tightly crossed over her breast, she nodded, sniffing.

Facing Stefan, Cameron opened his arms, welcoming his best friend inside his embrace. “Bro!” Was all he could say. Stefan hugged him back, patting his shoulder, eyes wide shut to prevent more tears to flow.

“Be careful brother. Make sure your wife is safe.” He advised in his ear.

“Will do Cam’. But be careful yourself and stop calling my wife love, OK ?” he warned, joking.

“That’s fair I guess. But you’re the next on my list. Wouldn’t it sound too viral if I’d call you love? In front of your wife?”

Stefan would have barked a laugh in other ordinary circumstances, but he wasn’t in the mood. He drew an honest smirk on his face and just bit his lower lip, his fierce stare showing his deep gratitude.

Stefan knew something was wrong. The guy was late, and it made him nervous. Mieke was chilled to the bone, her lips turning blue, shivering.

Where the fuck was he?

Turning his back to Cameron, he grabbed the only two luggage they allowed themselves to take for this one way trip.

“Travel light” his wife joked, gathering selected pieces they had to bring: underwear, dresses, some of his shirts and pants. Their wedding pic, because “your smile is to die for” she would say. A book. Nietzche’s “Beyond good and evil” with the note which changed their lives handwritten in the cover page. Two necklaces he offered her, one for Christmas, the other 'for no reason but I love you’. Toiletries. Food. Few items for the baby.

“New life. New start. New stuff.” She sang. “You have me, you don’t need anything more.” He agreed, catching her by the waist and bending her on the bed, him on top of her, devouring her neck with wet kisses while she shrieked and laughed out of loud.

He relaxed at the sweet memory of their past months together, happy and carefree , like any newlywed couple in constant honeymoon should be. Whistles code followed by heavy footsteps startled him and he immediately stepped forward to protect his wife.

“Nathan!” Cameron called in a loud whisper. “OK guys. It’s time. Good luck my friends. I hope to see you again. On this life or the next one. Love you!” His voice trembled and he quickly hopped in the car and disappeared in the darkness of the cold night.

Stefan gathered his thoughts, courage, package and wife altogether and walked towards the shadow standing still, half hidden next to the pile of wooden boxes. Stepping closer, he noticed the frown on the cold face of the man. He didn’t look menacing, but seriously pissed off.

The boat had left hours ago. Authorities had received a message that air raids were feared on the port at the crack of dawn and the American staff decided to protect the cargo. And ruin their plan. Though he didn’t deliver many, Nathan was a man of his words. He was paid to afford them a way out from this shitty war, he had to do so.

“Plan has changed.” He coldly mumbled.

The lady was obviously at a late stage of pregnancy, his first plan to make them climb the ship was definitely out of the realm of possibility. It would have been already dangerous for the man who looked strong but the pretty lady would never have made it. Shit. They have to hurry and move on.

Nathan thought quickly. There was another ship leaving soon to America. New York or Boston. Whatever. He couldn’t remember the name of that damn boat but knew where it was anchored. He had loaded a shitload of whiskey a couple of days ago, Prohibition had its good side even after it ended. Long list of wealthy clients, satisfied by the quality of his products and the trustworthiness of their deals.

“It’s a long way. Watch over your lady.” He grabbed one of the suitcases from the man’s hand and started to walk swiftly. They had a long way to go and he’d better carry the case than the woman. Stefan held his wife by the waist and followed the smuggler’s steps. He would thank him later for all his kind gestures.

Mieke carried her heavy belly and clenched her teeth. The fast pace was hard to handle but she had to make it. Her gaze focused on the man’s steps, her head down her shoulders, she tried her best to ignore the awful pain that cut her legs off. Stefan felt her weakness and tightened his hold on her. His shoulders and arms burned like hell and he’d rather have dropped the case to carry his wife in his arms but they really needed those stuff.

After fifteen minutes of running, nobody was cold anymore. Nathan never stopped walking, glancing nervously behind his shoulder to check on the young couple. The lady had her face closed, frowning. Her husband silently leading her the fastest she could.

They finally arrived at the feet of a monstrous ship of steel. Mieke lifted her head up to gauge the building’s height which got her dizzy. Her knees got weak under her, hopefully Stefan watched her back and kept her from falling.

“Mieke!” He almost cried out, as she fainted in his arms. Nathan froze. That was the worst place to stop, uncovered. He yanked at the luggage still stuck in the man’s hand and resumed walking. Stefan slided his arms under Maike’s knees and back and held her tight against his chest, her head resting in the crook if his neck.

“Down!” Nathan ordered after he made sure the footbridge was free. He rushed, squatting, Stefan on his heels. His arms were stones, tugging on his neck, and his thighs screamed out from the effort they had to endure, pulling Stefan’s and her unconscious wife’s weight up the rail. A sharp pain stabbed his abdomen, making him put one knee on the ground. Panting, hissing, he bit a scream back, shutting his eyes tight, adding more flashes and stars behind his eyelids. He won’t allow himself to fail so he tightened his grip on Mieke and stood up again. The wound on his belly tore him awfully, his forces leaving him thoroughly. Grunting deep in his throat, swallowing the jerk in his stomach and he forced himself up. Fighting for balance, he kept moving forward, step by step.

In this early morning, it was highly unlike they meet anyone from the staff, but they were not safe from a morning pee or a sleeplessness walk. Crouching, Nathan glanced quickly at the empty deck.

“Alright?” He whispered to Stefan. No. It wasn’t alright. He wasn’t good. Sweating and trembling from the unsustainable pain that wrecked his abdomen, he nonetheless nodded. They were nearly done, he had to handle the last meters which would lead them in a safe place.

Then he could rest, cry and breathe. But not now. Bad timing again. He followed the man through an endless maze of straight and empty corridors. His whole body was betraying him, the pain creeping through his veins. Each step was the very last he could bear but he kept walking, fighting the urge to throw up. Mieke started to writhe and moan under his neck, coming back to life. Mieke. He had to fight more for her. He would have given anything for his wife and that’s exactly what he was doing. Fighting for her and the baby she was carrying. Fighting for his family.

Nathan cursed under his breath. He was lost in this inextricable labyrinth of closed doors. He couldn’t recognize the right way to reach the room where he had stored a hundred boxes of the precious Scotch goods. Time was running and he had to find out somewhere to settle his clients on the run. The lower deck. Downstairs. There was always abandoned places near the encore room. And the woman would be kept warm. They were all soaked to the skin from their run and that freezing cold in the winter air would surely kill her from fever. He doubted the bags he was holding and warm blanket or dry coats in them. Not that he cared that much, but he was paid for a job and he always had the job done and well done. Which include having his clients on board and alive. Plus the lady was pretty and already exhausted from both her pregnancy and the flight. He smirked. He cared, somehow.

They passed the door of the engine room and Nathan opened the next one and eyes inside. Empty room as expected. He pointed his chin, glancing towards the room and the man walked inside, finally allowing himself to lift his wife down her feet.

Stefan sighted heavily, made sure Mieke was safely settled on her feet before kneeling down, one hand flat on the wall whilst tightening his grip over his wound. Groaning and hissing painfully, he shut his eyes, his face twisting in an awful grimace. Mieke lightly stroked his head, wrapping her hands lovingly around his face and pulling him closer in a sweet hug. A loud grunt ran through his throat and he let out the tears that waited under his eyelids for so long.

When he was finally able to catch his breath, the pain fading away and now more bearable, he stood up and wrapped his arms around Mieke. Hugging her body the tightest he could without harming her still weak self, he buried his face in her hair, tangling his fingers inside. Once her scent and her breath in his neck finished to strengthen him, soothing the pain in his abdomen faster than expected, he pulled back a little to stare at her, his eyes roaming all over her beautiful face. Cupping her wet cheeks, he wandered his thumb along her trembling, almost blue lips. He gently captured her mouth in a slow kiss before reluctantly pulling back again.

“Take off your clothes.” He whispered, his tone unwillingly more sulky than he meant.

Mieke gasped, then chuckled. Stroking her full rounded belly, she jokingly teased :

“Look at what happened last time you asked me that…”

Stefan paused, confused then laughed lightly.

“Naughty you. You’re freezing woman. I just wanted to warm you before you get sick.”

She even hadn’t realized she was shaking with cold and grinned at her husband, already busy to undress. He then gave her a hand to get rid of her coat he dropped to the side before working on the buttons of her dress.

Standing still, Mieke let her husband pulling her dress over her head and melted into his embrace, her forehead resting against his broad, bare chest. His warmth deliciously invaded her as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer.

“Warm me up you, big stud.” She teased, racking her nails up his spine.

He laughed heartily; relieved to hear she was fine. Mieke always teased him, she was good at it and always had him turned on. Their little game often ended under the sheets -or anywhere else- they made a good match. She wasn’t shy in bed, from the very beginning, much to his delight. But it was not the right time. Bad timing for the umpteeth time today. They were both vulnerable and exhausted. They really needed to rest. He felt Mieke suddenly stiffen against him and became aware she was crying. Coming back to his sense, he rocked her gently and kissed the top of her head.

“You’re safe now. We’re safe.”

The door flew open, startling them both. Stefan tightened his grip on Mieke, who shyly covered her breasts, barely hidden by her slip. Nathan rushed in, an armful of blankets he dropped at their feet. None of them had realized he was gone.

“Quiet.” He snapped. “The ship is waking up. Brought this to keep your lady warm.” He smirked. They’ve found their own way to do so.

“How did you get those?” The woman inquired as her husband grabbed one woolen blanket to cover his half naked wife.

He didn’t bother to elaborate a sentence and just grunted. His job was to do things like that. Not really, but he felt like he had to do this. He had walked so many boats he knew where to find what he needed. Years of smuggling, people or goods, taught him to stay low and unnoticed. He met a bunch of sailors, looking for the blankets, even asking where to get them, and he was pretty sure none of them would remember they had a chat with him. The men were busy to fill their belly, quickly swallowing their breakfast before resuming their tasks, getting the boat ready to put out into the deep/clean off. He had to go.

“Good luck. Take care of the lady.” He mumbled before turning his heels to exit the room.

“Nathan!” The woman shouted. Stopped in his tracks, he slowly turned around and faced her. She stepped forward to him, getting so close their chests almost touched. She sneaked a hand out of the blanket and grabbed the collar of his coat. Tugging it down, she pressed a kiss on his hairy cheek before letting go off of him..

“Thank you Nathan. You’re a good man. Thank you. For all. Thank you. ” she repeated the unnecessary words of gratitude. He wasn’t getting used to be -so kindly- rewarded for his efforts, he earned money for that. Adding the pretty lady’s kiss and Nathan felt his cheeks blushing and his heart pounding faster in his chest. For what seemed to be the first time in his life, he cared. Shit, that’s not good for the business.

The lady stepped back and the man grabbed his hand and shook it, his other hand patting his shoulder.

“Yes, thank you so much. We owe you.” He said.

“Welcome. Just stay low for a few days, until the boat is on open water. Just take care of your wife.” He mumbled to the man. He never had spoken that long to anyone before.

“I’ll pray for you and the baby Ma'am.” He wondered where this came from. He even didn’t believe in God and whatnot, but he would do. He wanted them to travel safe, he wanted her to have a healthy baby. He even felt sympathy for the man.

Shifting uncomfortably on his feet, he nodded his head to the couple and left.

At this moment, the thought of naming their son Nathan crossed his mind. Quickly replaced by the image of this rough, mute caveman. Talks little, does much. Accurate. But it was definitely a no no. Curtis at least was fond of strokes and kisses and cute as Cameron told them. He chuckled to himself and led Mieke to the ground.

“Come here, sit down.” He sat down, leaning his back against the wall and settled his wife in his lap, wrapping a blanket around him and another over their legs. She curled her legs up and melted in Stefan’s warm body, humming. Sitting down and feeling secure made the pain in her back and the storm in her belly stop. It must have been the anxiousness of their rush that had had her uterus hard like stone. Now she felt relaxed, rocked and warmed by her husband’s strong arms. She closed her eyes to savour the moment and sighted.

He shifted under her and reached out to grab his coat, bringing Mieke with him to the side. He shoved his hand in the inside pocket and dug out a matchbox. Mieke rolled her eyes and whined. Though he deserved this smoke, she’d rather like to stay in his arms, his scent was way better than his cigarette’s. What he pulled out from his pocket next surprised her. A candle. Not his pack of cigarettes. Stefan crossed his arms in front of her to light the candlelight.

“I planned to celebrate our new start, and take you out for a romantic dinner in your favorite restaurant.”

Another digging in his pocket and he showed her the menu.

“Your favorite chocolate bar!” He laughed in her ear, kissing and nipping at her neck.

Mieke squealed and yanked the bar from his grip.

“How did you manage to get it?” She shrieked in excitement, tearing the brown paper that separated the sweet goodies from her teeth. Chocolate was a rarity by those times of war and she had been craving a crunch for months. Typical pregnancy craving.

“Love, find this was way harder than organizing out trip to New York. But you know l would give you the moon. ” he nuzzled into her hair, while she more than happily took a bite.

“Mmmhh!” A strange sound racked through her lungs.

He’d never have thought she would appreciate it that much. He somehow noticed something weird. She was tensed like hell and slammed her hands on her belly.

Stefan shifted to the side to study her wife. A frown crossed her face, her eyes closed tight, her fingers dug into her abdomen, her breath held.

“A kick?” He happily asked, he always loved to know his son was healthy and sporty.

Mieke opened her wet eyes, her look worried. The calm she had been feeling since they had settled down was short-lived. And the renewed awful pain that stabbed her core was the ultimate clue.

Trembling in fear and pain, she reluctantly spit it out.

“No. It’s a contraction. Stefan, I’m in labor!”

Bad, bad timing.

@cajunpeach @red-diary @frecklefaceb @oddsnendsfanfics @societalfailure @bookwarm85 @pernilleals @kenzieam @kiiiimberlyriiiicker1995

@singingpeople

@jaicourtneyseyes

@beautifulramblingbrains

#the exception #the run #part 2 #stefan brandt #mieke #jai courtney

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piratepassion · 4 years

Text

It was my birthday, 12/12 – BIG 35! I told joel I want a special birthday this year, a full day to myself to relax, drink wine, bake, have a bath, watch movies. I was going to jam pack that day with ME TIME!

10am – I was baking scones when the phone rang. Ella’s school number popped up on the screen. I hate to admit it but inwardly I groaned… I had a full day planned!! “Ella’s had a fall and chipped a tooth” I laughed, thinking thats not so bad! he’s such a clutz! I actually asked if she could finish the day – being the second last week of school they always do such fun things! The voice on the phone said no, and you’d better book her in to the dentist asap. I called around, Of course I couldn’t get her into a dentist on short notice. No biggie I thought we’ll work it out later. I jumped in the car and off I went to pick ella up. no handbag, no water bottle, (I usually dont leave home without it) just my wallet and my phone, I told Joel I’d be back in an hour (Ella’s school is 40ks away, about half hours drive) gave Reece a wave and off I went on what would turn out to be one of the worst days ever.

Half way there I get another call to meet them at the district hospital… Ok? Thinking thats weird – but still not too worried. I walk in to reception, the receptionist explains that they got the tooth back in… “WHAT?!” It was serious. she’d knocked her tooth out and damaged the other one. I walk in to her room, she looked…. AWFUL! blood all down her front, half a tooth jutting out at an awkward angle and the other one hlaf gone. 😢 Within 5 minutes the tooth fell out again and I popped it in the milk they had ready.

The dentist came in and told me they had called ahead to royal melbourne dental hospital (about 3 hours drive away) and we have to leave right away. I mentioned going home (which is the oposite direction) to pack a few things, change of clothes etc and was told No, it’s really important I get there asap – to hopefully save the tooth!! I can’t fault them, they’d organised for Ella to be seen as soon as we got there, printed a map where the nearest parking was (about a 10 minute walk from the hospital) one lady even went to her house to get Ella a change of clothes, as her uniform was wet and bloody. So off we went! BIRTHDAY ROAD TRIP! (I guess?😂)

So we get a park, and of course Melbourne is a lot colder than home, I’m in shorts and a singlet, Ella in a summer dress, and All I had was her swim bag to carry stuff in (Including the container of milk holding her tooth) the 10 minute walk turned into a 20 minute walk with ella, as she was tired, shivering and really not happy. I was practically dragging her – and even carried her for as long as my back could take it. I would have given anything for her wheelchair, and a jumper for her. Nearly in tears myself I was working out how much cash I had on me, and seriously contemplated asking a stranger to literally buy the jumper off their back for her (of course being melbourne, and me being very country, I was also concerned about getting stabbed so I didnt do that lol)

Once at the dental hostpital I gave the refferal letter to the receptionist, told her they were expecting us and explained what was going on. she told me to take a seat and wait, and I did. and waited, and waited. Wrapping Ella in her damp towel (because that was all I had) She was clearly going into shock – shivering and crying. We waited. After the first 2 hours I went and asked how much longer. “not long”

We Waited.

After another 2 hours later I complained, almost in tears, face red, shaking as I hadn’t eaten all day and I was just so bloody over everything at this point. Different receptionist this time, she really went to bat for me, went and made sure we’d be next, was disgusted that we had waited so long, she got me the forms to make a formal complaint – and an hour after all that, sh even stopped someone else from going in as we were supposted to be next!

finally we went in – the dentist took one look at ella and said we needed to go to the royal childrens hospital. I think I broke a little inside at this point. It was 8pm by this stage, absolutly freezing outide at this point and getting dark.

40 minutes it took for me to get Ella back to the car. She was crying the whole way and I tell you I wasn’t far off sitting in my gutter and doing the same!!

We Drove to the childrens (not far thankfully) Found a park straight away and in we went! Got seen by the intake nurse in about an hour, then saw the dentist on call about an hour after that.

This detist was AMAZING! She explained that they could put her under – fix the teeth and reimplant the one that was out, they’ll put a brace on to keep it place until it fuses to the bone – but unfortuntly the tooth is dead, so it’s not a matter of ‘if’ but ‘when’ she looses that tooth again. I sign the paperwork, surgury is booked for the following day.

I drove to my grandma’s (luckily I have family in melbourne otherwise I dont know what I would have done!) She had some pj’s for Ella, I got her into bed and then drove to Kmart to pick up a few essencials (toothbrush, deoderant, change of clothes for both of us)

The next day could not have gone better! I got to see some family I hadn’t seen in a while – traffic back to the hospital was a dream and Ella got called in almost straight away. Ella’s generally terrified of the face masks but We did lots of practicing ‘blowing up balloons’ and decorating the mask with stickers, plus a bit of bribary with a new hat i got her from kmart the night before – she finally got it on her face.

The chat with the dental surgeon beforehand while keeping Ella calm and entertained was hard – unfortunately the fact of the matter is the tooth won’t take. She said I had two options, she could go ahead and replace the tooth today, so the root will fuse to the bone. This means we’ll need to go back in two weeks for review, then she’ll need to be put under a general again to get the braces taken off, and then under again for a root canal, and then again after the root fuses to the bone when they’ll cut her tooth off at the gum and screw in a fake one, and As always there’s risks every time she gets put under. The other option would be to clean it up, and leave a gap – which has its own problems, the other teeth moving, trouble eating, infection etc In the end I decided to get it put back in – still not sure if I made the right call! 😬 It’s so hard to make a huge decision like that in the moment – and on very little sleep! She woke up pretty sore and upset, which is to be expected – but the braces looked adorable and she got a certificate for being so brave!

Home the next day with an appointment in two weeks to check and possibly get the braces off. On the plus side since we actually knew about the next trip we made a family holiday of it, spent christmas with my family from melbourne, went to the zoo and got her braces off all in the same trip. (we even took our dog Lucy 😁)

So basically thats where we’re at now. Ella needs to be careful with her teeth, semi restricted diet (no apples, buiskuits, anything crunchy) and eventually they will need to be cut off at the root and fake ones drilled in, and hope to jebus they don’t fall out (or get knocked out🤦‍♀️ ) before then!

All I Want for Christmas is My Two Front Teeth! It was my birthday, 12/12 - BIG 35! I told joel I want a special birthday this year, a full day to myself to relax, drink wine, bake, have a bath, watch movies.

#Accident #Asd #birthday #braces #christmas #Cri Du chat #Dental #Disability #roadtrip #Special needs parenting #teeth #tooth

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kyberled · 7 years

Note

things that are therapeutic/relaxing for Braig!

Send Me Metas || ALWAYS ACCEPTING

Oh gosh, there are a few of them, so I’m just gonna do it in a list, with no particular order:

Writing in his journal. It helps him keep his thoughts organised, helps him visualise things, gives him something to do, allows him to look back on memories, is a great distraction, and generally just really soothing. It’s a comfort he’s had since he was thirteen years old. On top of that, his journal was the only birthday gift he ever got (by tradition), and came from Obi-dad, so it has a lot of sentimental value. On top of that, it has little notes from dad, and, verse-depending, different friends, family members, and even his significant other, if he has one.

Pressing flowers. This one is a bit different, since a lot of the time, pressed flowers just lie under books being squashed, but he likes it, all the same. Something about aligning the flowers to look just right, to finish the bookmarks and write out his little facts, it’s, again, a nice distraction from what he has to put up with. If he’s making it for himself, then, it’s nice to know that his journal will be better organised, and if he’s making it for someone else, then he’s looking forward to giving it to them and seeing their reaction.

Gardens and flowers in general. He doesn’t do a lot of gardening, himself, but he loves gardens. His favourites are, of course, the ones in the Temple, but he also likes going to the parks in the Senate district when the flowers are due to bloom. Temple gardens aren’t seasonal, are kept at a controlled climate, which makes sense, but means that they don’t have blooming season, so he has to look elsewhere for that. He’s always liked flowers, liked the way they look and smell and the textures of the different petals and leaves. I also think it has something to do with the way plant life feels in the Force - it’s fresh, clean, natural, and overall a refreshing, rejuvenating feeling. Feeling them bloom is like feeling the Force renew itself, but sitting in a garden that’s already in bloom is more of a constant, steady feeling. Both are nice.

Getting his hair brushed/played with/braided. I’ve mentioned before that papa Obi sometimes brushes Braig’s hair for him, and he braids it, too. This is top-notch Braiggo care. He has to be very, very comfortable with a person to allow them to do this, so it’s pretty much limited to the parentals (Rodi’s Obi, obviously, and verse depending, Liz’s Cody, Mars and Sam’s Shaaks, and Red’s Satine), Sam’s Grandma Yaddle, and the SO’s (Adrian’s Boba and Heidi’s Ahsoka). There might be a few others, but it’s a very, very select few people, overall. Still, he very much likes to be fussed over like this, and it’s probably the closest to pampered he ever gets. It’s self-indulgent as hell, but he enjoys it, and the little chats he can have while it happens.

Meditating. This one should be self-explanatory. He likes meditating alone, because the Force is a lot quieter like that, and it’s easier to think and feels safer to let emotions out. He prefers it to meditating in a group. Sometimes, though, he’ll be fine with meditating with, say, his mentor, or a small group of close friends, but, yes. He usually prefers meditating alone.

Back rubs. According to Adrian, once they’re dating, Bo gives Braig massages after long days of training, or long days in general. This is obviously a verse/timeline/etc-specific thing, but it helps him unwind and feel less achey.

Going on walks. Whether it’s around the Temple halls, or around the Senate district of Galactic city, going on walks is a usual method of stress-relief for him. He usually does this if he’s restless, but not in the right state of mind for sparring, and doesn’t feel like he could concentrate enough for kata/forms practise, meditation, or anything like that. More often than not, he goes around the Temple, but if he needs to get away for a bit, or he needs to steel his resolve re: the war, he goes out. Seeing the citizens of Coruscant happy, free, and at least relatively safe reminds him exactly what they’re fighting for, and has helped steady his resolve a number of times. He has a number of usual stops to visit when he goes out, including the parks and gardens, a tea shop run by an older Rodian woman (the same shop Obi’s been taking him to since he was little), and a little stationary shop. It’s hard to find things like actual pens, these days, but, if it’s a luxury, it’ll be in the Senate District.

Sparring. Sometimes, he really just needs to hit something, or get hit. Usually, after bad missions, or just bad days, before he loses his energy, before the frustration and anger melts down into something heavy and cold and suffocating, you’ll find him sparring with anyone he can grab - he prefers his Gathering group friends, especially Hano and the twins, since he knows he can get a challenge, and come away with at least a few bruises. When he’s in this kind of mood, he wants to be hit. He wants to get hurt, because so many people died, and he came home. So many people lost everything, and he’s safe. It doesn’t feel right to him, doesn’t feel fair, so he tries to take a beating to ease some of the survivor’s guilt/general awful feeling that comes after a battle. It’s also for this reason that, when he’s in this kind of mood, he prefers not to spar with a master. On normal days, he’d be all for it, think it’s some kind of learning experience, etc, etc, but, like that? He knows that, even if he’s pushing himself, even if he asks them to push him, they’ll still pull their punches and go easy on him. After all, when all’s said and done, he’s still just fifteen. But, as I said, he doesn’t want to be treated gently, he wants to get the daylights kicked out of him. This is another reason it’s good he tends to go to his friends for this - They’re all roughly the same age, and they’ve all been training for about the same amount of time, so, they’ll spar each other as equals, but they also know each other well enough to know when to say ‘alright, that’s enough, time for a break’, and to listen when the other person calls it quits.

Exercise in General. If he needs to blow off steam or just pent-up energy without sparring, or just isn’t in the mood for a beating but is very hyped up, you can often catch him going for runs. He’ll also try to do ‘speed runs’ of forms, go through drills, or even get into friendly push-up or [insert exercise here] competitions with other padawans, just for the heck of it.

Showers. Well, sonics, usually. Coming back from a mission covered in sweat, dust, dirt, blood, ash, grease, oil, and god only knows what else is never a good feeling, so getting cleaned off really helps him. If he can get a shower with water, especially warm water, that helps even more, but- He’ll take a sonic. He just wants to be clean.

Lullabies. Another part of Rodi and my canon is that Obidad used to sing to Braig when he was a baby, and might still do it from time to time when Braig’s older. If anything helps calm and quiet racing thoughts and dispel lingering nightmares, it’s this. It helps him breathe.

Fixing his lightsabers. You can often find him doing this, though most times, it’s just a hobby, something he enjoys doing, but after a nightmare, he’ll do it almost feverishly, taking them apart and re-assembling them, pouring over his notes and blueprints in his journal to see if any fixes need to be made or he’s gotten any alterations to be added. It keeps his hands busy, and gives him something he has to focus on, to distract him from whatever woke him up. It also helps him feel as though the next mission will be better; his sabers are better, he’ll be able to fight longer, protect more people, and so on. Things will be better.

Tea. Whether it’s brewing it, drinking it, or learning about etiquette and tea ceremonies from Obi-dad, tea is a pretty big part of his life. He really likes the little tea times he gets with his mentor. He’s also very good at brewing anti-anxiety tea, and muscle-relaxants/painkillers, from experience.

Having someone he cares about around. As much as he likes having some peace and quiet, he needs people. Isolation doesn’t suit him. Especially when he’s panicky or anxious - having someone he’s comfortable with, someone he loves, there with him, helps a lot. Especially having someone sleep with him - not in a sexual way, just literally snoozing there beside him. Having someone with him when he’s anxious or otherwise upset helps him calm down, and when he’s asleep, his subconscious can latch on to the familiar Force signature, and it also gives him something physical to hold on to, which helps with keeping himself grounded, making nightmares less frequent, and helping him to come down when they do get bad. Again, though, he’s gotta be really comfortable with you to lower his guard that much.

Cooking. This is something that only comes into play post-66 (in the canon timeline), but, just as he found a distraction in fixing his sabers when it was safe to be a Jedi, he finds joy in cooking when it’s not. It also makes him feel like less of a burden to the people he’s staying with.

The sound of a pen scratching on paper.

Holding on to Obi’s sleeve when missions get rough. He does this instead of holding dad’s hand, since his hand is usually full of lightsaber. (Though this is also a habit that goes back to when he was very little, and he couldn’t hold Obi’s hands because Obi was carrying him around).

Braided textures. I’ve explained this before.

Stargazing. He just likes looking out at the stars, seeing all the planets - though, sometimes, this can stress him out more, because, look at all the people you have to protect, look at all the people who need you, etc, etc. But, most times, he likes them because they’re pretty, and, again, ties in to good memories with Space Dad.

That’s all I got for now! :D

#long post //#moonscared #the trend here is his dad helps IMMENSELY #as do other family members #&& give the sun a head start; ooc #&& as best i can; answers #&& temple archives; headcanons

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sini-sterility · 7 years

Text

Y’all finally get my backstory now.

@weaponizedhorse I FINISHED FINALLY

Alright motherfuckers, you asked for it; you're gonna fucking get it. You've finally unlocked Sini's tragic backstory.

Let's begin with the childhood depression due to intense emotion abuse and manipulation, causing me to try to kill myself, not once, but twice before the age of ten. However, it seems that my body liked the idea, because within two months of turning ten, my legs began to go numb, and I would experience random pain. I told the nurse at school; she didn't believe me. Stir this mixture of reckless negligence and bitchy old-lady nurse until two years have passed, and I am now completely paralyzed in constant literal agony 24/7, to the extent of not being able to sleep, stand, sit, lounge; you name it.

I wasn't nauseus, but the pain was so horrible that I would fake getting sick every day in order to stay home and not face the ridicule the least liked person in my entire school (I am honestly not exagerrating. I got into my school's spelling bee, and was the last 6th grader standing. They called your name, you stood up, waved to the crowd, and they cheered. They got to me, and I shit you not, less than 1/5th of the 6th grade class, none of the other students, and three teachers clapped, and that was as good as I got. Maybe I was annoying or something, I don't know. I was a very, very quiet kid, so I actually don't know what their deal was; there were much uglier people there than me, too) would get from acting like they can't feel their limbs or stand up, or be constantly hunched over in pain.

So I'd stay home with my dad and watch old cowboy shows, trying to ignore the pain. I remember how we treated it was Icy-Hot and a fuck-ton of Ibuprofen.

Eventually, my bullshit quack of a doctor finally clued in that, no, I was not just suffering from a particularly bad UTI. She actually fucking told us that I had a UTI. Because UTI's are reknown for causing pain so bad you literally can't think straight.

So, one day, a week after my 12th birthday (which was the saddest shit you've ever heard of; my mom made my favorite cake and my favorite food (Flan Cake and Chicken Curry), my Godmother was there with a bunch of books, I had a few really cool presents; my sister Shirley even got me a hair straightener at Goodwill, because I'd finally learned that thick curly hair with the mind of it's own (that mind being one of a psychopath) didn't stand a chance against hot iron. They sang happy birthday to me, and I remember that after they finished, I just put my head down on the table in cried. It was the single saddest moment of my life, aside from April (which is another can of worms all together, and very few people know about it).

Anyway, a few days after my mom took me to the doctor, and at this point I had given up on trying to present any semblence of an ability to walk or feel anything at all, so I was in a wheelchair. The doctor saw how much pain I was in (fucking finally), and that I truly felt no sensation anywhere, and immediately sent me to a Neurologist in Indy.

We got there an hour later, and the Neurologist took one look and ordered an emergency MRI – that turned out to be a very traumatizing experience, as the even more amplified pain (metal + back issues of the highest caliber + loud noises + bright flashing lights = Literal torture. To this day I can't go in MRI machines without being knocked out (But I secretly love it because I get to play a little game I like to call 'Resist'. It's basically the game they have you do where you count up to or down from 100, only you ask the Anesthesiologist to push the anesthetic in as slowly as possible, and start counting. When you start to feel it kicking in, you count as fast as possible. My record is 128 bitches <3).

They were only able to get 15 minutes of an MRI with me, before the panic and pain were too much for me and I started convulsing. After that, they checked me into the hospital overnight while they went over the results.

You know that shit's bad when the next day the ICU Oncologist comes in at 7 am the next morning to tell your mom that you need emergency surgery right away, but don't tell you why.

It turned out that I had stage 4 (better known as terminal) Neuroblastoma. There were three main problematic tumors; one that was slung over my left shoulder and attached to the upper left lobe of my lung (bigass motherfucker holy shit it was enormous. They had to cut out a piece of my lung to get ride of (most) it.), one the size of a softball pressing on my brain, just above the temple (They drilled my skull open, and scooped it off my scalp like a blob of strawberry preserves, which is what it looks like anyway btw. They were nice enough to honor a request I made, and take a picture of the tumor. BUT THEY DIDN'T FUCKING SEND IT TO ME, THEY SENT IT TO MY DAD VIA TEXT, AND WE ENDED UP LOSING THE DAMN THING >:O), and then the worst one; the mac daddy of Neuroblastoma tumors.

It was a long, thick, malignant tumor that had infused itself with my spine, and was subsequently cutting off my spinal cord – thus causing all of the pain and the paralysis and numbness. It gave me a hella sweet scar though, shit looks like a zipper along my spine!

After they removed what they could of the spinal tumor (which still to this day causes me a great deal of pain. I'm on 10 mgs of Oxycodine up to 6 times a day, and more often than not I need 7 pills in one day.), they told my parents that I had maybe two months to live. That they were going to send me home with them with a car full of all the medical supplies they could spare us, and that I was going to be very dead, very soon.

Needless to say, everyone was shocked when the third month rolled around and I was still alive – and learning how to walk again. It's taken me 6 years to be able to walk up and down stairs, and depending on the treatment or how long they keep me in the hospital, I occasionally still need my walker. (Sparkly red thing with little stickers all over it. I think we gave it to my grandma, but I'm not sure?) They upped my prognosis to 6 months and then it would be all over, but by then Obamacare went into effect, and that got the ball rolling for CHIPS, and that little thing that so many Americans hate because they “don't want to pay for a stranger's abortions!” (actual reason I was given once. I know that there are real reasons, but I still am okay with paying a little bit extra each month so that another kid who's like I was six years ago today, might have a chance to beat the odds in an overwhelming way. Again, that's just me, and I'm probably over simplifying the matter.), is most likely the main reason I'm still alive.

See, because I was accepted into two (or maybe three, I'm not sure?) forms of health insurance because of the Obamacare plan, I was able to begin treatments within almost a month of diagnosis. After four months passed, they began to fit and train me to use a wheelchair at home, as it was an impossibility that I would ever walk again (or use fine motor control for that matter).

Two months after that, just six months after being told I was already dead; six months of hellish PT and OT; six months of taking chemo and painkillers and throwing up blood – and I fucking walked out of that God forsaken hospital with my walker and my family.

That was six years ago. My body is still healing, and I've had plenty of physical and psychological horrors since ( ie. Kathleen aka 'The ex that raped me last year', my mother becoming even more abusive towards me, to the point of egging me on in cutting myself, and losing most of my cats because they were outdoor and we weren't around enough for most of them to want to stay, for starters. Fortunately, the one that did stay was my kitty, Alice. She moved into my current house with my dad and I after my dad won sole custody of me during their divorce (those two NEVER should have gotten married, they hate each other so fucking much.), and she's been a driving force in my will to live and fight ever since. The week she went missing was the most miserable week of my life.) the beginning, but I've got something I never had as a child now; a will to live. A reason to live. It's honestly the reason I still believe in God, as twisted as that sounds. I had actually been begging God to just kill me and get it over with in the weeks leading up to my diagnosis, and though it seems like being told you have terminal (which, just incase some of you guys don't know this, does not actually mean that you're totally deadsies; it means that there are no approved treatments or treatments that are proven to be effective, so you have the two options of going home or staying in the hospital while they make you as comfortable as possible as you wait to die a slow, horrible death of cancer; or you subject yourself to potentially deadly, painful, and horrible experimental trials to try and find a cure for yourself and others like you. Guess which one I picked! Ahh, the stories I could tell you... I'd be willing to write another one of these if anyone is interested in my hospital horror stories.) cancer would be your answer in the affirmatory. But for some reason, that's not how I took it. I took it as a sign that I'm supposed to live, at least for as long as I'm needed to do something to make the world better. It sounds crazy; superstitious; egomaniacal to say this, but when I think about everything I've been through, the multiple attempts at killing myself yet living through each time, and the overwhelming feeling I got when I was told I was as good as dead, but I honestly feel like I'm supposed to do something big, even mildly so. I don't know what, but that thought drives me every day to quite literally be that change that I want to see in the world.

I haven't made a suicide attempt ever since diagnosis; I rarely try or succeed to hurt myself anymore, and when I get in that state, my first move is to call up my sister Lilly, or talk to @typical-atheist-scumbag, or even talk to my dad nowadays, rather than just go ahead and grab a razor blade. I'm entirely about absolution and forgiveness as long as a person is genuine, and I try to be as passive and understanding – yet not quite neutral – to other people's beliefs as I possible can be. I stretch myself thin trying to help other people, but I honestly feel all the better for it.

This lovely little “inspirational” (*eyes roll into the back of my head*) piece isn't even half of it, but it's the major stuff. I included that bit at the end to show that even though I've had a pretty bullshit lot in life, I absolutely refuse to let it kick me down.

You may laugh at how stupid and pretentious I sound now.

#inspirational #Sini's Backstory #Cancer #Neuroblastoma #Religion #Religious #Christian #Lutheran #Self harm #Self-Harm #tw #abuse #rape #mental abuse #mental disorder #terminal cancer

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lamiaward · 7 years

Text

Coffee Shop Au

I don’t own OUAT. This is probably a different kind of ‘coffee shop’ than was meant , but I had inspiration ehe.

“Rubes, I cannot believe you” Emma said, laughing. She really should not have been surprised anymore. Ruby was kind of notorious for her gotta-try-everything-once behaviour. Hell, they had met when Ruby had been arrested for ‘multiple incidents of public exposure’ and Emma had bailed her out. Kind of should’ve told Emma she should’ve expected anything from Ruby, especially with how nonchalant Ruby had been about the whole thing ( she had really been more amused than anything , although she had never gone to jail for indecent exposure again. ‘I am not boring, I do not repeat stuff like that, Ems).

Still, this was something that was unexpected even coming from Ruby.

“ Oh, come on, it is a great idea!”.

“ How do you even think you will convince your grandma? “ Emma flopped down on her bed. After a long day of bounty hunting, she was tired but she actually did enjoy talking to Ruby a lot. The almost hyperactive energy was catching and her stories were often uproarious.

“ Ehm, with how much profit this is going to bring into the shop. Duh. “.

« Is there even like a demand for this kind of stuff ?”.

“ There is always a demand for this kind of stuff. Besides, we would only sell it in the evenings, in a back room so that we can still cater to kids and teens”.

Emma snorted. “ Won’t the teenagers be the ones that want it the most?”.

“Probably, but I am pretty sure mayor milf would have my head if I tried to sell it to teenagers, considering her son is only a couple of years away from that special age where they start drinking and stuff”.

“ Probably. Can’t say I blame her though, kids already get into trouble without help so- “.

“ Are you insinuating that I could ever corrupt our youth? “

Emma rolls her eyes, but grins a little “ Didn’t you- “.

“ Omg, Ems let it go. Danny was only like two years younger”.

Emma chuckles. Ruby is definitely pouting. “ Fine, I will let it go. But only because you got dumped . For someone older”.

“ You being really sucky, bringing up old pains like this”.

“ I am sure you will live”.

“ Urgh. You do realize that you can literally die of a broken heart? You should not mock me, or you will feel really bad at my funeral”.

“ I could also die because a construction worker that is working really high loses his shoe and that shoe lands on my hand”.

“ uh your point being?”.

“ There is a lot of crazy things that could kill us. I wouldn’t worry too much about it”.

“ You sound like some sort of philosophy mayor”.

“.. no I don’t”.

“ Yeah, you kind of do” before Emma can react, she has to yank the phone away for the sake of her poor ear as Ruby yells “So are you coming?”.

“ To … Storybrooke” like always she hesitates before saying the name. She has known Ruby for years and she knows she can trust her but it is still a weird name. And there was that one time she searched for it and could find it nowhere. When she asked Ruby, she was told ‘it is a shithole. That’s why you can’t find it”.

« No, to Alaska ».

« No need to unleash the sass on me ».

“ So are you coming?”

“ I guess so. When did you – “.

“ This weekend” Emma scowls a little at the phone when the words that follow are ‘ And because I know you are pretty much a zombie in the morning, you are allowed to arrive here in the afternoon” .

“ I am not that bad”.

“ Yeah, tell that lie to someone who hasn’t been around you in the mornings” and of course, because she is Ruby , the phone is hanged up before Emma can even react to that with (mostly fake) indignation.

Honestly.

Turns out , even if Storybrooke is non-existent on any maps and Ruby’s directions are a little vague (‘okay there is like a fuckton of trees and then there is a sign. Just do not turn right or left, follow the road and you will get there’) at the end, Emma does find Storybrooke.

Okay, here we go. She thinks and it is kind of odd , because she has known Ruby for years and whenever Rubes wasn’t globetrotting or with his grandmother, she would crash on Emma’s couch so she should not be nervous. She kind of is though. Just a little.

However, she also not a coward so she gets of her car without even taking the time to calm herself down. She gets out of the car and opens the door to ‘Granny’s diner” and even calls out for Ruby. Whose scowl immediately changes into a bright grin as she turns around from where she is taking someone’s order.

“EMMA “ she yells and then barges into Emma, hugging her tight before pulling back to kiss her once.

“ Is that another thing you picked up in Europe? “ Emma says, laughing. Even though Ruby has always been free with touches and flirtations.

“ Well, they kissed each other’s kisses like three times. Sometimes? I don’t know” she winks. “You must just be irresistible”.

“ Lucky me” Emma says drily.

“ Yup” Ruby rolls her eyes and leans in so her whisper won’t be overheard. “I am going to deal with whiny dude behind me. You can already sit down if you want” she pulls back again, then says in her usual voice. “ Grilled cheese and hot chocolate coming up” before dragging herself back to the customer.

Emma chuckles as she sits down and watches Ruby plaster on a smile. She could have easily become an actress, had she wanted to. She smiles emptily at the guy, only to throw Emma a ‘can you believe this douchebag?’ look as she has her back turned to him.

Emma gives her a quick smile before Ruby turns and sashays into the part of the diner that is the kitchen. When she has dealt with Douchebag as well as some nicer customers, she sits down across from Emma and pushes the grilled cheese towards her.

“ Don’t choke, Ems” Ruby says , laughing at the way Emma immediately digs her teeth in and takes a very large bite from the grilled cheese.

“ Hmm” Emma just groans, quickly swallowing before taking another large bite. “You are the best” she says vehemently.

“You are pretty great too” as soon as Emma is in between bites, she asks “how is Boston?”.

“ Okay. Bounty hunting continues to pay the rent” .

“ Do you spend your sad, lonely days tackling people on the wrong side of the law or do you actually get some action” the devious look in Ruby’s eyes tells Emma what exactly she means with ‘action’. She rolls her eyes before swallowing. “ You know the drill”.

“ Still with the one night stands?”.

Emma shrugs. “ I am not really the type of girl for anything else”.

Ruby lays her hand on top of Emma’s, the sadness in her eyes making Emma’s skin crawl slightly. “ I really hope that will change one day, Ems” she smirks slightly. “Because one night stands are awesome and all, but I really wish you could have a little more”.

“ I don’t need more. I am fine, Rubes”.

“ Yeah, I know. You are Emma Swan, who is really independent and strong after a lifetime of rotten families” she squeezes Emma’s hand once before letting it go.. “ Just so you know though, you always have a family here, you know? One that does not suck”.

“ I know Ruby “she says , her voice stilted. She quickly adds. “ Thank you”.

“ You are welcome”.

Ruby lets her nearly choke on the remains off her grilled cheese for a while before offering her a napkin and pointing at her mouth. “ So… “ Emma says, and lays down the napkin . “ what did your grandma say?”.

“She is thinking about it”.

Emma arches her eyebrows a little. “Seriously?”.

Ruby dips her finger in the whip cream on top of Emma’s hot chocolate and licks it. She is a pouting a little. “Yes. But she says the mayor needs to approve as well”.

“ and you think she won’t”.

“ Have you even listened to my stories ? No way that Mills will ever approve of a coffee shop”

“ Well, move to Amsterdam then” Emma teases.

It is when Ruby stiffens a little that Emma realizes she cares more than expected. Because Ruby has often ideas that are a little crazy or at least a little bit inappropriate or just not feasible and she gets really enthusiastic but often forgets about them after a while. Emma had expected this to be like that, but if the slightly hurt look Ruby gives her is any indication, it isn’t.

“ Sorry Rubes”.

Ruby slowly starts to smile again. “It is okay” she sags a little. “ I am just enthusiastic about this and it is stupid that it might all not happen because the mayor thinks it is sordid or whatever”.

“ Have you actually talked to her about it?”

“ Not yet. But I would be really surprised if she actually approved”.

“ Stranger things have happened”.

“ Maybe” but Ruby does not look certain at all. She actually looks kind of droopy, which makes Emma shift a little and think of a better topic conversation. She is just about to ask whether the crush Ruby had been so frustrated and kind of teary about is finally not a ‘shitfest waiting to happen’ anymore when Ruby perks up and jumps to her feet. Emma stares after her as she half-runs towards a brunette that is buried in a large, ancient-looking book.

She smiles a little as she sees Ruby lean in , place her hand on the woman’s shoulder and say something to her. The woman slowly lowers her book, gives Ruby a shy but brilliant smile. Let me guess, that’s- yup. That is definitely Ruby’s crush. The slightly hesitant way Ruby talks and touches says it all. She is kind of curious about what exactly is so bad about liking her( Ruby had only muttered something about gold, which Emma had distributed to her just being drunk at the time)

Emma smiles at the woman as she is pulled along by Ruby. Ruby throws an arm around her and points at Emma. “ This is my lemur”.

“ Ehm, lemur? “the woman hesitantly asks.

“ It is a nickname Rubes has for me” Emma explains, offering the woman her hand. “ Emma Swan. Nice to meet you”.

The woman clutches her book with one arm as she shakes Emma’s hand with the other. “ Belle French” she says.

Emma smiles. “ Ironic name” Belle stares at her, so she explains. “ Belle is French for beautiful, right ? « Emma is definitely not fluent, but she has picked up some French over the years. She doesn’t even know where anymore, possibly to either pretend to be someone else or impress someone. “ So the name ‘Belle French’ is kind of ironic considering the first part is a French word”

Belle smiles brightly. “ My father was born in France , but he moved to Australia when he was pretty young”.

“Ah. That explains it”.

Ruby pulls Belle a little closer to her. “ You did not tell me you spoke the language of love”

“ And you are so very surprised by this fact? I may be a dropout, but that does not mean I hate learning stuff, you know”.

“ Ems. I have seen your apartment, I know you have a lot of curiosity and everything” . Yeah, that may have come out a little too intense. Emma cannot help it: almost everyone she ever meets assumes that she is stupid and/or doesn’t like to read just because she dropped out of high school.

She shrugs. Ruby and Belle sit down. Emma really wants to talk about why it cannot work between the two when Ruby throws glances whenever she thinks Belle isn’t looking and Belle blushes slightly as their hands brush. Then relaxes with her shoulder pressed against Ruby’s.

“Ruby told me you are a bail bondsperson. It sounded- “ Belle hesitates for several seconds ( Emma really needs to talk to Ruby, with how she is staring at the crunchy face Belle makes when she thinks with this bright smile) “ interesting. Do you enjoy it?”.

“ I guess? I mean, I am pretty good at it and it pays enough so that is cool”.

“ Oh. Is it as dangerous as it sounded when Ruby was telling me about it? “.

“ Maybe a little. But I can handle myself” .

Belle really seems interested, so Emma decides to tell one of her funnier (and weirder) stories. She is in the middle of describing how she slipped over the plate her ‘date’ had thrown on the floor and crashed into a group of too-pale businessmen when she sees her.

“ So they gave me this lo – “ she trails off, her hands freezing in the air. A woman has just entered. Her brown hair is coiffed, her brown eyes are almost scary they’re so intense and Emma just knows she is the kind of woman that is a really Bad Idea. Still, she takes one look and she is sold. Damn.

“ What are you- “Ruby starts, then turns around and back with a knowing smile. “The mayor. I told you she was hot, didn’t I?”.

“ you didn’t tell me she was hot enough to spontaneously combust things” Emma mutters, slowly dropping her arms and still staring at the mayor. And yeah, of course she has seen attractive women before but wow. The woman is really attractive. And wearing a perfectly fitting pantsuit, that Emma recognizes to possibly cost her entire month’s salary. She is also barely looking at anyone around her, head tilted slightly.

Emma tries to stop Ruby, she really does. But she is too late when Ruby calls out “ Hey, madame mayor!”

“What are you doing?” Emma hisses as the woman arches her eyebrows- fuck, that is hot too – before walking over to them.

“ I need to ask her something, remember?” Ruby says, but she is smirking and there is that look she gets into her eyes before she tricks Emma into going somewhere like a fight club or whatever ‘entertainment’ she has found.

“ Miss Lucas” the mayor says , gifting Ruby with a small but seemingly genuine smile. She nods at Belle. “ Miss French”.

“ Hey madam mayor. How are you doing?”.

“ I am fine” it is kind of cute (maybe?) how Regina is obviously not the best at small talk. Emma can almost imagine her thinking ‘what does she want now’… or perhaps that is her experience with Ruby’s crazy plans talking. She knows the mayor has seen some of those.

“ Have I ever told you about Emma?” Ruby says which is when the mayor deems to actually look at Emma. She kind of bristles at how she looks at the red jacket hanging over the seat, then smiles as there is a flash of interest as those brown eyes linger on her arms for a moment.

“ Regina Mills “ she says, offering her hand with that same small smile.

The hand is kind of cold as Emma takes it. “ Emma Swan. Hi “.

The smile grows at Emma’s awkward ‘hi’ and damn it she is usually far more suave around dangerously attractive women with really intense and pretty brown eyes. Not that she has ever met any that are like Regina Mills.

“ I am pleased to meet you” Regina says and Emma tells herself let go off her hand, you doofus. That is the signal even as it takes three additional seconds before she actually does. Perhaps she should have taken Ruby more serious when she described Regina as ‘kind of Marilyn Monroe except mixed with like an evil queen possibly and then stuck into a pantsuit” . Instead, she had laughed.

Emma finally recovers enough to give her most charming smile and say “ Pleased to meet you as well. Especially after Ruby told me about you “ The last part is revenge for how Ruby was smirking during Emma’s awkwardness. The mayor smiles and arches her eyebrow. “ Oh? I hope she has not mentioned anything scandalous”.

“ You do not seem like the type to cause scandals”.

Regina starts to smirk slowly. “ No. But miss Lucas herself causes them frequently”.

“Hey!” Ruby protests

Regina chuckles. It is somewhere in between teasing and slightly cruel. “The paperwork from your latest stint was quite extensive” her smile sharpens a little. “ Do remember to stay out of trouble, dear”.

“ Oh please, you totally enjoy it when I ‘cause trouble” Ruby ways it off, sending Regina a small smirk.

“ Quite the opposite, dear”.

“ Oh really? “Ruby leans forward, her tone slightly more flirtatious. “ I remember you enjoying one of my ‘scandals’ quite a bit”.

Emma would feel oddly and inappropriately jealous , but Regina just rolls her eyes. “In order to avoid humiliating yourself, I would stop with the insinuations miss Lucas”.

Ruby pouts, but she is smiling a second later. “ You’re no fun”.

“ I will have to check my job description, but I am quite certain that ‘to be fun’ is not in there”

“Your job is to make your citizens happy, so basically the same thing. And it would make me happy”

“ I am certain it would” Regina merely says, smiling at Ruby one last time. She turns to Emma. She smells like apples and possibly cinnamon when she leans on and slowly smiles. “ Miss Swan. I do hope you enjoy your stay “ and she squeezes Emma’s bicep briefly before sauntering over to the counter.

Emma’s eyes are still on her when she directs a question at Ruby. “ Should you not have asked her about the coffee shop thing? “.

“ Yeah, maybe. When she is - “

They all stare at the card that is revealed when Emma lifts her mug. ‘Regina mills’ it says, along with a series of numbers and , beneath that; ‘I hope your taste in venues is better than your taste in jackets. Call me’

“ Oh My “ Ruby slowly says, staring at the card.

Belle looks mainly confused and slightly terrified. “How- how did she place it there? I never saw her hand anywhere near it!”

“GOD “ Ruby nearly shrieks, turns it into a slightly less obvious thing at the last moment. Emma glares at her.

“ Will you stop already?”.

“ I can’t- I have been flirting with her forever and you what? Come into town and show her your muscles and she just- “.

“ Do you not have a crush on someone else?” she almost glances very obviously at Belle, but catches herself. She really doesn’t want to be murdered now that she might be going on a date with Regina Mills.

“ Have you seen her? Plus, someone who is as tightly wound as her would probably be a –“.

“ Ruby” Belle hisses. Emma is surprised at how not-sweet her voice can sound. Ruby cowers a little, then mutters “ sorry”.

Emma would make a joke about how whipped Ruby is or at least give her a look, but she is too busy staring at the card. She glances behind her: the mayor is still at the counter. She glances at the card again. “Right back” she says, then slides out of the booth.

She leans on the counter, waits until Regina turns around. She looks down at the card, smirks. “ I have excellent taste”.

“ The jacket begs to differ , dear” but the tone is more teasing than anything.

She leans in a little, lowers her voice. “Would you still think I have horrible taste if I tell you that you are my type?”.

“ I might be persuaded into believing you are not a lost cause”.

Emma smiles. She had meant to smirk and play coy and hopefully fluster Regina (there is something about her that makes Emma really want to fluster her) but she can’t help it. “ So will you let me show you I am not?”.

“ I did offer you my card, dear” the woman points out.

Emma shrugs. “ Just checking. So uh- “ she hesitates, because she doesn’t want to be too eager but she also really doesn’t want to wait. Screw it. “ are you free tonight or do the people need their mayor?”.

“ The people can ask someone else to solve their issues for the night”.

Emma grins. “ Wonderful. Should I- “ .

“ Eight O’ clock sharp. I do not tolerate tardiness “ her eyes flick to Emma’s arm again before she smirks and looks into Emma’s eyes. “ Make sure to wear something that shows off those arms” .

And the lady has departed, coffee in one hand and take-out bag in the other. Emma watches her go with a smile that prompts Ruby to throw a balled-up napkin at her and say “ The queen has stolen another heart” with a devious smile.

Emma walks over to them, says “ Have fun dealing with her when she finds out you have just outed her in front of a quarter of her town” then starts to walk away. Her smile only widens when Ruby calls out “she was ogling you, I just said what was clear. No way that she can murder me for that”

Emma laughs at the insecure “right?” that is the last thing she hears. She has a date to prepare for.

#swan queen week #coffee shop #emma swan #regina mills #red beauty #kind of want to write an au where Regina visits an actual coffee shop #that would be fun to write #she could be on a business trip & lost or whatever

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armageddon-generation · 7 years

Text

Fanfic: Caught in the Twilight (Chapter 1)

A/N: Takes place during season 1, after the Balmera arc but before Alfor goes crazy.

…

Answering this distress call was a really bad idea.

“Is Lance through?”

Static.

“Allura, tell me is Lance throu-”

A plasma blast catches the Black Lion full on the right side; Shiro tastes blood as his head is slammed to the left. The controls are wrenched out of his hands and Black is caught in a spiral, a mayfly swirling down the drain.

“Shiro. Shiro, come in! Are you still there?”

Shiro rights himself and grabs the controls again; the bionic arm flexes with a strength that is not his own, and Black turns the downward spiral into an elegant swoop around the nearest moon. Behind him the Galra fighters crackle like a bug zapper, and he knows they’ve just missed another plasma blast.

“I’m here, Allura. Where’s Lance?”

“Right. Yes, of course. Lance made it back fine. The particle barrier’s still holding. Keith has time.”

“You hear that, Keith?”

“On my way.”

Shiro twists and Black pivots, fires off two shots of his own, and dives, letting the moon’s gravity pull them down. This time Shiro feels the plasma rake his hindquarters.

That’s the problem with the whole psychic bond thing. He grimaces as another barrage pockmarks the ground where Black had been standing a second before. With Earth craft he hadn’t felt every little scratch on the paintwork.

Shiro grins. If he had, he probably wouldn’t have survived the simulator.

His HUD beeps; Keith is in its crosshairs as he speeds across the void, weaving around a clump of asteroid shrapnel that had just a second ago been another moon. Two of the Galra fighters break off and scream after him. Keith leaves them eating lunar dust.

Damn, that kid can fly.

Plasma flares in his peripheral, and Shiro feels Black’s growl rumble through his chest. Right. Run now, admire later. Keith would actually be much better at this whole laser tag thing, he thinks wryly, looping around and swiping one of his pursuers on the flyby. Black’s claws shred it like a paper knife and the fighter goes down.

Keith has the faster lion and, Shiro isn’t ashamed to admit, is the better pilot by a considerable margin: they could easily have swapped places; Hunk charged the blockade first, scattering them like bowling pins. Then Pidge, the smallest, then Lance. Shiro could’ve followed. It made tactical sense. But Shiro is the leader, and that means laying down on the wire and letting the other guys walk over you.

Another explosion rattles his bones.

Yay, him. Perks of being in charge.

“Hello? Hello, Shiro? Keith just docked, you need to move now!”

Allura’s voice is high and frantic, and Shiro is reminded of just how young she is. Younger than him. Everyone is younger than him now, except Coran. How did he suddenly become so old?

An asteroid sailing past shatters like glass, and Shiro decides he’s not old enough yet. Not old enough to die. Black wheels about, the bionic arm slams the accelerator forward, and Shiro is caught as it yanks him along with it. Black’s whole body thrums, and they rocket back towards the blockade, with the Castle waiting just beyond.

The swarm of persuing fighters parts like water, and they’re going to make it, his team is screaming encouragement in his ears -

There is a crackle. His stomach drops. Shiro feels it, in the taste of the air, the way you feel it the moment before a lightning strike. He yanks the controls upward -

And the hand of a giant sweeps them away, white and purple and glaring.

Alarms shriek. The world is red, and flashing and purple. Purple, the arm has woken itself, like a dog straining at the leash. Every time he gets scared - Calm, calm. Blaring alarms. Shut up, Black, I know, I’m thinking, let me think -

Shiro presses down, biting his lip as if to suppress a scream. The purple glow retreats, reluctantly. The alarms have stopped, but the ringing in his head hasn’t. There’s a jackhammer drilling through his temple.

The air crackles again, and the solid mass of purple light misses them by a millimetre. Another moon is made a cloud, Shiro feels the shudder. A command ship; the Galra have called reinforcements. Too slow, he took too much time -

Black races away, from the attack and from him, before they can fire again, before Shiro can regain his wits.

Come on, his Lion tells him. You are the leader of the pride. You cannot be weak or confused or human. You are the alpha predator. An alpha predator, reduced to a firefly lost in wave of fireworks.

Shiro takes the controls, with both hands. Both. Pain, in his head, through his head. No pain. Pain is not permitted.

Our enemies have evolved, Black growls at the base of his skull, and Shiro feels ten thousand years of absence and vulnerability and cancerous growth wash over him.

Can you?

The air crackles again, almost gleefully, but this time he’s ready. He banks, and Black pinwheels out of the way, a water skater dodging a stone thrown by a petulant child. Reload time is three seconds. He must’ve counted, though he didn’t notice. Always awake. Never resting, even asleep.

Shiro has an opening. He takes it. The bionic arm thrusts forward and this time he’s behind it, the hunter unsheathing his claws. The command ship is a blur of shadow on the right, then nothing.

The blockade is regrouping. It won’t be enough, can’t let it be. On the other side their pride is waiting. Shiro roars, the lion within and without in perfect harmony, and the arm flares up in symphony. A beam of icy blue thunders from their open maw and they burst through the blockade like it’s a house of cards, scattered to the wind.

They’ve made it. Keith and Red have come back out to meet them (of course they have), the Castle scoops them up, they’re through the hangar doors -

Shiro sighs and slumps against his seat, deboned.

Made it.

For once, sleep takes him willingly.

…

Weirdly, Hunk is the only one not having a meltdown. Lance has lost the smile Hunk thought was a permanent part of his face, Pidge is breathing too fast and Keith’s face is so tight Hunk worries it might crack.

Not him, though. There’s something strangely therapeutic about charging a wall of Galra death head on. Puts things into perspective. Now they’ve wormholed away, he’ll probably get around to wetting his pants later, when the adrenaline high wears off.

But Allura, she’s the worst. All the color has drained from her face, to the very tips of her ears. She looks more like a ghost than her dead dad downstairs.

They watch in silence as Coran and Keith manhandle Shiro into a healing pod, like a marrionette with its strings all tangled. Lance stands by, not sure what to do with himself. The stasis field bubbles over Shiro’s fluttering eyelids, and Hunk can’t help thinking of the coffin at a funeral. He’s only ever been to one funeral, his grandmother’s, and he was only six at the time. It was nice, actually. Mom had cooked Grandma’s favourite afterwards, as a way to say goodbye.

Still doesn’t change the way Shiro looks like literal death. Or how much the noises he’s making sound like a tortured mouse. Pidge’s lip is trembling, but Hunk pretends he can’t see. She won’t apreciate concern right now.

“Is he going to be alright?” Allura asks. She sounds a liitle hollow. Hunk can’t blame her, but she’ll probably be blaming herself. Answering that distress beacon was her idea. Against Shiro’s recommendations. That must be eating her up.

Coran tries for a warm smile. Those usually work, but today she stares right through it.

“Out cold is all. Probably got a nasty migraine, but he’ll be fit as a fiddle within two swipes of a bogtail’s… uh, thingy.” He made a vague flapping gesture, “Anyway, the best thing you can do now is get some rest. You’ve been up for nineteen quintaks straight now, all of you.”

Nobody moves. Shiro’s shallow breathing holds them hypnotised.

inout inout inout inout -

Hunk shakes himself like a dog throwing off cold rain. Sleep. They’ve been up too long, with training, the botched mission and the following standoff. He watches Pidge sway on her feet, only propped up by empty horror. They all need rest.

“Guys, Coran’s got a point.”

Lance jerks, awoken from a trance. He stares at Hunk blankly for a second before making the connection. Then he nods and slopes off. Keith trails behind. Pidge stays rooted to the spot.

Hunk comes over and rests a hand on her shoulder.

“Come on, there’s nothing more you can do.”

She flinches away.

“I’m staying,” she says stubbornly. Hunk sighs.

“If you stay, you won’t be awake when he gets better.”

Pidge takes a breath, and then seems to melt on the spot, like a candle burning too long. Hunk figures that’s as close to yes as he’s going to get, so he bends down and hoists her onto his back. She doesn’t resist.

He turns to talk to Allura, but she’s planted herself like a tree, sitting at the base of Shiro’s pod. Her eyes are sharp, like just-broken glass. Hunk gestures helplessly to Coran, who nods and ushers him to leave. Probably best to leave them alone for some alien bonding time.

He reajusts Pidge like a backpack and steps into the elevator. She doesn’t talk, which is unusual. Normally she can’t wait to regale the only other techie on board with little tidbits she’s discovered while tinkering with the Castle, when Coran isn’t looking. Shiro is second family to her, Hunk knows. The last link to her missing one. Watching helplessly as the Galra almost severed it again can’t have been fun.

Still, they’re family too, Hunk muses, as the elevator opens and he steps out onto the accommodation floor. Pidge’s room is right at the end, with an extra room between her and everyone else for the junk she claims are ‘experiments in progress’. Hunk doesn’t mind; she weighs less than a feather.

I mean, he’d always wanted a baby sister. He just hadn’t expected her to be smarter than him. Or pretend to be a boy first. Speaking of, he really should start calling her Katie. It is her real name, after all.

But it doesn’t really seem to fit, like reaching the last gap in a jigsaw puzzle only to find the peice you have doesn’t match up. Pidge is Pidge. Anything else seems a little… off. Or painful. Maybe that’s why she doesn’t correct them. The reminder of what she’s lost hurts too much.

They pass Keith’s room, he’s probably already inside, getting a head start on the night’s brooding, and Lance, just slipping out of his in those awesome, Castle-fabricated slippers. He makes a sickly cooing face at the sight of Pidge clinging to Hunk’s back like a baby monkey (Hunk can only assume she’s fallen asleep, otherwise he’d have been punched) and Hunk rolls his eyes good naturedly. Then Shiro’s quaters, whose open door gapes like an empty maw.

Finally, casa de la Pidge. Hunk picks his way through the minefield of wiring and empty not-candy wrappers (the 'experiment’ room must be overflowing). Delicately, he lifts her off his back and sets her down on the foam matress, before doing the mandatory check for hidden bits of tech. There’s one laptop stowed under the bed and a couple of circuit boards stashed against the wall. There’s probably tons more, but Shiro’s the only one who can ever find it all.

Hunk pauses on his way out, and glances back. Yes, a baby sibling would be nice, boy or girl.

The light spilling in from the halway catches the glass photo frame on her bedside table. Her and her brother - Matt, he remembers. Hunk snorts a little, remembering how he’d mistaken Matt for Pidge. But they do look a lot alike, her sleeping face side by side with his, bright and smiling.

Hunk frowns as he heads back down the hall to his own bed. If the memory of her family is so painful she doesn’t even use the same name, then why does she still cut her hair and wear glasses she doesn’t need?

Why look exactly like the pain she’s trying to hide?

…

Allura is glad for the chance to be weak.

Coran has gone to set the Castle down somewhere habitable, leaving her with some kind words she didn’t hear and a warm drink she hasn’t touched. She is alone in every way.

It’s tiring, the strain of keeping it hidden, like sucking in a gut. She releases, and all of the emotion sort of flops out, the weight dragging her down. No tears. She doesn’t have enough to spare, what with her father and her people and her planet -

Her face resets into something droopier, and although it doesn’t exactly feel good, neither is using a leech to siphon poison from the blood. She’ll survive. She has to, now. It’s her duty.

Allura looks up at Shiro, waxen skin, mouth made a razor by pain, and she suddenly feels the need to scream. Her duty. It’s funny, really, like a joke at a funeral, how much better off everyone would be if it was him in her place instead. This alien, with his bleached hair and his battle scars and his abnormal ears.

Allura sees herself in her mind’s eye, the flickering of an old hologram.

She is running down a corridor, in another part of the Castle. Coran is still on the bridge with Keith, running the Castle’s first diagnostic check in ten thousand years. Lance and Hunk have gone for the Yellow Lion, and Shiro, Shiro is away with Pidge…

Quick now, time is a candle burning at both ends. There is vengance broiling molten in her gut and she must know…

The hangar door is sheer and unyeilding. Behind it the Black Lion waits, she knows but could not see.

She reaches out, tentative. Take a breath. Focus. Clear headed. A natural leader. This is what it needs. She takes the magma in her stomach and channels it, up her arm and through her fingertips. She lays them flat and firm on the cold metal.

Open.

Shut. The door does not budge, refuses to let her through. Allura’s eyes narrow and she forces her strength through, trying to communicate, trying to make the Lion see -

The Blue Lion was taken already, she has lost her childhood friend. But she is a leader now, the leader, the hope of her people (except there is no-one left to lead), she could fight, she could avenge them. She bites her lip and presses harder, as if hoping to melt her way through the metal. The Lion will see, why won’t it -

The magma runs dry and all Allura has left to give is raw and wet and grieving. She snatches her hand away, scared it has known her weakness and thought her unworthy.

Too late. Too little. She imagines the Lion standing just beyond her reach, monolithic, unmoved. She might as well appeal to a mountain range. Her grief escapes her in a single droplet, because now it has nowhere else to go. She swipes at her eyes and turns away. The candle is almost spent. Coran will be looking for her.

Shiro will be back soon.

What is she, really? She’s not the diplomat her father was, she obviously isn’t the commander she needs to be. Shiro groans and tosses in his sleep. Allura flinches. She needs Shiro. He is the lynch pin. The Black Paladin always is. That’s why no-one could fight Zarkon before, because he was the key to their defence.

Allura relies on Shiro more than she’d like. He is her rock, the team’s rock, solid and real where her father is nothing but hollow light. She wonders if he ever trusted Zarkon the way she’s coming to trust Shiro. He must have.

She risks another glance at Shiro’s pod. A purple light simmers inside, like a furnace turned low. His arm has awoken itself. She keeps her eyes trained on it, this piece of monster fused to her friend.

Something rattles in the dark and Allura jerks away. It’s a slippery slope, this kind of thinking. The niggling doubts at the back of her head had told her to ignore Shiro’s warning, about the distress beacon. She was so sure she could save them. Altea coming to the rescue, like in the old legends.

This is the result.

They sit, facing the cavernous dark of the unlit hangar. Together. Allura lets her eyes close. She needs to trust Shiro, if she’s going to defeat Zarkon.

They’ll do that together, too.

…

A/N: Hi, so if anyone has any writing advice that would be brilliant, this is my first time posting a fic on tumblr!

#voltron legendary defender #fanfiction #my writing #voltron #shiro #voltron shiro #takashi shirogane #allura #hunk #pidge gunderson #keith kogane #lance mcclain #vld #help

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