#do the Worker Drones fear any drones with yellow eyes?

[hisuian-history-makers]

Extended.

Yes—Accidents can happen. Bright yellow eyes are the signature color of the Murder Drones but a burnt yellow might be more possible.

No—Different models have different eye colors. That doesn’t really explain how the Copper-9 drones changed theirs. Different cores maybe?

???—Why wouldn’t they use this tactic to trick the Disassembly/Murder Drones? Do their eyes become stuck on one color after a certain point? Khan’s the only Worker Drone we have seen so far that kept the default white color. At least N, V, and J (plus the unnamed drone that Tessa found) had default yellow eyes.

[linatheweirdooo]

Don't hurt me

I wrote this fic on ao3 originally as a vent, but due to the positive reception I'm gonna post it here too :3 here's the link to it on ao3 if you wanna give it a kudos or reply or read any other stuff I wrote bc I don't plan on posting that much on here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56567776/chapters/143770822#workskin

TW; implied S/A (it's hurt/comfort but the subject is mentioned and implied)

~~

It all happened so fast.

The sensation of water trickling down her synthetic skin, the studs of soap covering her body. It was a normal day, V just wanted to take a shower to clean herself off after an especially bloody hunt. Until she slipped.

Her entire frame collapsed onto the soapy ground, and her optics struggled to make out what was happening. Her processor overwhelmed with the sensory information from all fronts, it retorted to its only defense; to connect this situation to something familiar, something that has happened before.

In her disoriented state, instead of seeing the shower in her home, she saw a room in the old manor. And instead of feeling water slide down her hydrophobic shell, she felt hands. Hands that were distinctly human. Hands of the people whom she still can't remember the faces of, violating her. Touching her in places she shouldn't be touched, abusing parts of her body that are too sensitive for it.

This was stupid. She was a robot, she was a servant, why would she care if she was used? Wasn't that what she was made for? She shouldn't be whining.

Poisonous words from the person seemingly executing this echoed in her audio receptors. Even when it happened, V could bearly make out proper sentences.

V just yelled for them to get away, but her pleas proved vain when nothing changed.

Eventually, she succumbed to it, with only whimpers and muffled sobs with the occasional "stop" escaping her mouth.

~~

N was out today, which only left Uzi and V in their home, but the purple worker couldn't help but feel slightly worried by how long her girlfriend had been in the shower, she was usually quick.

But Uzi brushed it off. Maybe she's doing some self care for herself. V was responsible, they've known each other for a while now. Long enough to build a life with her and N.

That was until she heard V's voice, muffled by the walls of the bathroom and too far away from Uzi to make out any actual words. But why would V be yelling? There's nobody else in the house other than her, right?

Uzi panicked, but took a deep breath. She needed to stop assuming the worst all the time. So she calmly (albiet still quickly) walked up to the bathroom she was in and knocked on the door.

"V? You okay?"

No reply. At least, no reply that was directed at Uzi. It was hard to tell what she was saying, which worried her. Uzi does know V has a... complicated past... but even after getting together, she didn't talk about it more than she needed to. What if she was stuck in some kind of flashback?

No. No jumping to the worst case scenario. She'll just ask her again.

"V? Did something happen? Can I come in?"

No reply again. This was now a cause for concern, so Uzi opened the door, only to see her girlfriend on the floor of the shower sobbing and whimpering.

Immediately she ran up to V. But the disassembly drone sat up and made eye contact with Uzi.

Fear. The thought that V was even capable of the feeling had never even crossed Uzi's mind, but the hollow yellow rings that replaced her eyes were all that stared back her girlfriend.

V looked sad, tired, and scared, and while she has shown more emotion in front of her partners than she would to anyone else, this was different. It was raw, it was unfiltered, and it was heartbreaking. Her wet hair covered parts of her face and water was still pouring over her. She looked helpless.

"V?" Was all Uzi got to say before the disassembly drone tensed up and her endoskeleton started to shake. Pants and suppressed sobs were all that escaped the drone in front of Uzi, and when she tried getting closer, V cowered, pushing herself on the floor into the corner of the shower.

With her knees to her chin, one cone-shaped arm wrapped around her legs and the other in a protective position, hiding most of her face, V looked...vulnerable.

Noticing her girlfriend's reaction, Uzi moved backward. V must've thought she was someone else. Why else would she be this scared at the sight of her own girlfriend? Did Uzi do something?

V seemed to relax slightly, but she still looked like a helpless, terrified kitten in the rain. It hurt Uzi to see someone so important to her look like that. Only a year or two ago, Uzi would be scared of V, stating what she would think would be her final words if she crossed by any disassembly drone. Never in a million years did she ever entertain the idea of dating not one, but TWO of them. And now one of them is terrified of her.

As Uzi prepared to speak again, she heard V mumble something mixed with a sob. Uzi's audio receptors may not be as advanced as her girlfriend's, but she could make out a few words.

"Don't hurt me" were those words. The rest were lost to the sounds of whimpering and water from the shower hitting the floor, but Uzi's heart sank at the thought of what those words implied.

"V... it's me, Uzi"

It was a softer tone and volume, and it seemed to have worked as V relaxed a little bit and lowered her hand. However, she was still shaking and her eyes were still hollow.

Uzi leaned down to get on V's level, in an attempt to make her more comfortable. "it'll be okay" she comforted. Maybe it won't be, she had no way to tell, but it may help calm V down. She grabbed the towel V had hung on the hanger. "Can I get you out of here?"

V, still shaking and her eyes still hollowed, nodded. She didn't say anything, as if her voice were being held under a lock and key.

Uzi got into the shower and turned the water off as V stared at her, with digital tears hanging from the eyes displayed on her screen.

The worker drone reached out a tender hand to her girlfriend's cheek, which she immediately leaned into and closed her eyes.

Now that she was closer to V, the stress lines under them were more obvious, and as she brought back her hand, Uzi draped the towel over V like a blanket.

"Do you want me to dry you off or do you want to do it yourself?" Uzi asked in a loving tone.

V took a bit to respond, but she then replaced her eyes with text that read "I'll do it, but stay here" before adding on a "please".

Uzi nodded in response, and V blinked away the text as Uzi used one hand to interlace her fingers with V's and the other supporting her other arm, lifting it up and allowing V's limp body to stand at its full 5'11" height.

V took the towel that was hastly draped over her and wrapped it around herself after she had dried off the plastic and silicone that shielded her insides from the elements.

Uzi looked back at V once she was done but before Uzi got the chance to marvel at how beautiful her girlfriend looked, V collapsed onto Uzi before clearing her throat and spoke.

"Can you..." She paused, as if she was incapable of asking Uzi to do anything for her.

"Can you brush my hair?"

Her voice was scratchy from the crying, and her voice was still shaking despite thinking all the tears were gone. Maybe it was from embarrassment. The strong and terrifying Serial designation V asking for help? She might as well be dead at that point.

"of course..." Uzi smiled before going onto her tip toes and closing the gap between the two drones in a short, soft, loving kiss.

~~~~~

Uzi walked out to let V change, and after a few minutes she saw her girlfriend in a baggy purple sweater collapse into a hug, burying her head into Uzi's shoulder.

"..'m sorry for scaring you" was all V said, partially muffled by Uzi's shirt.

But Uzi just hugged her back and smiled into V while running her fingers through her girlfriend's still partially wet hair. "Its okay, it's not your fault"

V must've believed her. Or didn't feel like arguing. Because she just hummed in reply before pulling away from Uzi and sitting on the edge of their bed infront of the worker.

As Uzi played with V's hair, she wondered what must've happened. Who did V think she was? Why was she scared? Was she stuck in some kind of memory? What was happening in it?

She didn't want to ask too much. V was already secretive about her past even after getting together. But if it was hurting someone she cares about so much, she should at least ask her if she's okay now.

So she asked.

"What happened in there?" And immedietly felt bad. What if she was forcing V to re-live this memory? Was she overstepping a boundary?

"Uh.." V stopped in her tracks, almost trying to remember what just happened before Uzi cut off her train of thought.

"N-not that you have to tell me! It's just-" Uzi sighed. "I just want to know if you're okay"

A moment of silence passed, but to Uzi it felt as though it was a thousand years, and to V, half a second.

V took a deep breath before adjusting her position so that her knees were to her chest and she rested her face on them. "No... you deserve to know. Just-" another beat passed. "- just... i-it's just hard to talk about... uh.."

It was hard to keep talking, trying to figure out which words to carefully string together to form a cohesive sentence. She shouldn't be nervous, but she hasn't really talked about this to anyone. Her mind just kept flashing back to moments she has tried so hard to forget every time she wants to attempt to tell the most important person in her life what happened.

"V? You okay? You don't have to talk, you know"

Shit. She zoned out.

V collected herself and rehearsed what she'd say in her head. Why was she overthinking? She can trust Uzi.

"I..." Her eyes trailed down, and Uzi moved to the left of V to get a better look at her.

"Th-this was like, a long time ago and-"

She stared at her hands, and watched as she fiddled with them to relieve a bit of her anxiety. Or was it fear? Nervousness? Even she can't pinpoint the feeling. But, she does know she needed to talk about it.

"When I was a- uhm... w-when I worked for the Elliot manor... there were some...bad people" she took a slightly shaky breath. Uzi could probably see that V wasn't okay. Maybe that's why she rested her hand on top of V's after she said that. And despite the topic at hand, and emotions racing through her head, V made eye contact with her girlfriend and smiled. Not the sadistic smile she sported in hunts, or the beaming one she wore when Uzi said that magic three-letter word after asking her out. It was soft. It was okay. She's safe with Uzi.

So she took another shaky breath, and continued. "They hurt me. And... the ways they did that, varied..."

Uzi's digital eyes displayed slanted lines, reminiscent of human eyebrows when someone was sad.

"A-and one of those ways... included parts of me that I still wonder why I have. Maybe it was to feed their sick fantasies" it was hard to talk about, but the lump in her artificial throat was smaller as she found herself getting more comfortable.

V opened her mouth so speak, but choked on a sob that she had been trying to suppress. Damn it. She can't be crying now. She supposed to be scary. What was she even doing right now? She was stupid to think she can be vulnerable. She's supposed to be big and scary.

While V spiraled in her thoughts, hypocritically degrading herself for things she did three seconds ago, she snapped out of it by a sudden weight, and arms wrapping around her.

It was Uzi hugging her.

Suddenly, she couldn't control it anymore, and V let out more sobs as she finally broke down. Uzi held her through all of it, she even moved in front of V to face her. And as V sobbed and cried into the crook of Uzi's neck, she wrapped her own arms around the worker, despretly shaking and clawing onto her to make sure Uzi will never leave her side.

Between V's slightly muffled sobs and sniffles, Uzi lifted her head slightly to plant a kiss on V's cheek and whispered comforting words into her audio receptors.

"I'm here now" "Its okay now" "im sorry", they all helped but sounded the same to V. Until Uzi said a particular phrase.

"You didn't deserve that"

What a joke. She absolutely did. Maybe she hadn't done anything bad when it happened but the things that were done to her was probably something whatever higher being looking down on her did to punish her ahead of time. Maybe they thought it would stop her from doing the horrible things she did later in her life as a disassembly drone. In reality V didn't deserve Uzi. Or even N. She doesn't deserve loving partners who care about her. She doesn't deserve the affection she received from them or any forgiveness that they gave her.

But V couldn't even muster the energy to say that. Uzi would probably tell her it was absurd to think that way. Maybe it was. It was hard for someone programmed to serve people to imagine those people may be bad.

At some point in her thoughts, V's sobs got reduced to just occasional hitches in her breath, and her digital tears were replaced with tired lines under golden eyes. And they were very visible to Uzi, who pulled away from the hug and was now holding V's larger hands that were slightly illuminated by the yellow triangles on them.

"Hey, it's getting late. Do you want to go to bed now?"

V blinked a few times and looked at Uzi, then to her own hands. Hands that were made to kill people like Uzi. But right now, hands that were being held by her. And she watched as Uzi's thumbs brushed along her palms.

"Yea. Maybe" V finally sighed, and leaned onto Uzi, who pushed her own weight towards her and hugged her harder.

An "I love you" escaped the purple drone as she rubbed soothing circles on her girlfriend's back. It almost made V start crying again.

She was fine. Everything's fine now. She'll never be hurt that way again. She's loved now.

She's loved now

V's voice shaky from the newly built up tears, she reciprocated the statement

"I love you, too, Uz"

It was quiet, muffled, half mumbled, but it was enough for Uzi to hear her and squeeze her girlfriend tighter.

They shuffled a bit while cuddling, and ended up in a position where Uzi was spooning V. There's a first time for everything, she guessed. But it wasn't that bad, being cradled by the one she loved the most.

Minus V's purring and occasional sniffle, it was relatively quiet. But, it was comfortable. Uzi subconsciously ran her fingers through V's hair as V listened attentively to the rhythm of Uzi's core and wrapped her tail around Uzi's leg. Getting used to how clingy and physically affectionate V was took a bit of time, especially since before dating, Uzi's only ever seen her murdering people, playing with their corpses like dolls only to animalisticly take a bite of her prey.

But it was nice. Paired with V's purring, Uzi really enjoyed cuddling with her, too.

It was a while before V broke the silence.

"You know... I never thought I'd ever tell anyone that experience, much less to a worker"

Uzi looked down at V in her arms, which caused V's complimentary eyes to look back at her.

"Not that it's a bad thing. I'm really glad I could finally talk to someone about it. I never thought I'd see myself this close to someone like you. You opened my eyes to a diffrent way of looking at things, and I'm forever grateful we met. I'm sorry I was such a dick at first."

Uzi's face softened at the remark before she leaned down to kiss V's hair

"Don't say that. You were scared. And you've changed" Uzi paused to cup V's face in her hands and lean in for another kiss, V holding the back of Uzi's head.

"I'm glad you trust me enough to talk to"

V didn't talk, but her smile and blush spoke a thousand words. Uzi just held V to her chest and continued playing with her hair.

It continued like that for a while, until V's "eyelids" grew heavy, and she eventually succumbed to her exhaustion.

~~

Uzi didn't know how long it's been, and frankly she didn't care. That was until she heard footsteps walking into her room before she saw the unmistakable yellow headband of a disassembly drone.

"Hey Zi d-" N cut himself off as he saw V asleep and walked over to Uzi.

"Did something happen?" He asked Uzi in a hushed tone, careful not to wake the drone laying in his girlfriend's arms.

"...Yea. I don't know if she would let me say what happened, but..." the worker looked at the murder machine curled up in her arms, asleep, and smiled. "...she's fine now" Uzi replied, petting V's hair.

N's face shifted to a sympathetic smile as he sat on the edge of the bed and eyed V.

"I hope she is" was all he said before going behind Uzi and snuggled up with her, hugging her from behind before he too fell asleep.

Which left Uzi alone with her thoughts.

V was right, though. A few years ago Uzi's life was hell. It was hard to even avoid hurting herself. But she's so glad she didn't. Now instead of walking to her home after a shitty day at school to be ignored by her father, she walks home after another day of university to a home with her girlfriend and boyfriend, ready to tell them about her day and hear about theirs. Now she looks forward to life, as long as she has her two favourite people in it.

Eventually, Uzi also fell asleep, being hugged by N and V, and hugging the latter back.

[dronebiscuitbat]

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 3)

N followed Uzi at her side as they made their way through the maze of hallways that was the bunker. If he hadn't, he might have gotten lost.

“I think this place gets bigger every time I come here.” He pointed out, taking one step for every two of hers, he wasn't going to point that out though, lest she poke him.

Yes, poke, maybe shove or lightly punch. But he'd come to realize that when it came to the people she cared about, she didn't choose violence. Don't get him wrong, Uzi would often choose violence when it was an option, case in point; railgun. But when it came to him, and V to an extent, her mouth was the most dangerous thing about her.

That and maybe her tail, which did often actually bite.

“It's a maze on purpose, Dad thought it might throw you guys off to buy us time.” She hummed absent-mindededly, thinking as she lead him through yet another cross-section.

“It would definitely work on me. I'm already lost.” He laughed a little, looking over at her.

Her visor was lit up in an almost frown, eyebrows together in either concern or disappointment, her tongue was out again, which meant she was focused intently on something. N was always in awe of how she was always thinking, although she often overthought and made herself upset, he hoped that's not what she was doing.

His eyes drifted to the way she played with the ball joints of her own fingers, like she always had to have something in her hand, her tongue switched sides and her eyelights scrunched up, obviously trying to work through something in her head.

Cute… wait what?

“Oh! Crap I almost passed it. Here we are.” She stopped abruptly, causing N to nearly trip to avoid careening into her, there was a thick, fogged window looking into the nursery, where he could see a few blurry shapes of pillbabies recharging in their cribs.

“Ooooh! Babies!” N's eyes grew exceptionally wide, almost as if they had stars in them, his tail wagged behind him, his hands cupping his face and a squeal threatening to spill from his mouth.

“Yeah, probably here while thier parents are working. Come on, you can see them better inside.” She opened the heavy door with a swoosh, and a gust of sterilized air hit them both.

“I'm allowed inside? Wouldn't they… be afraid of me?” N took a step back, holding the wire of his tail in his hands, looking anywhere but her eyes. Thinking about how some of the workers still looked at him with fear.

“N, it's fine. And if they're not fine with it I'll make them fine.” Her tone shifted from soft to rough, and her fist balled to make her point. And, almost reluctantly, he followed her, head frantically taking in every single detail of the room.

The drone at the front desk wasn't paying attention. Wore glasses, and seemed to be from the same generation of drone as Uzi's Dad, with the slightly boxier body type typical from that generation. Her eyelights were a deep orange, and she was skimming through a magazine.

“Uh, Mrs. Rayn? It's Uzi, I'm back.” Uzi's voice seemed to immediately lack the bite it had a moment ago. And the elder drone peered over her glasses, first to Uzi, then to the disassembly drone awkwardly standing behind her. He smiled, trying not to look any kind of threatening. His tail wagging slightly.

“Not sure we can combine you two, and I'm not sure Khan would want me to…”

Oh robo-jesus-

“No! Uhm… No. I'm just here to pick up more oil! N wanted to see the babies…” Both of their faces exploded in blush, their eyes flicking over at each other briefly, which somehow made both their blushes far worse.

What would that even look like? Would they be a worker drone? A disassembly drone? Both? Would they have Uzi's eyes? His yellow ones? Inherit his white ones? Or would the colors mix and be brown? Or pink? Did it even work like that?

He should probably stop thinking about that…

“Ahhh, good! You two are a little young for that anyway. Uzi, you should have been good for another week! Is your condition getting worse?” She asked, and she immediately reminded N of a grandmother, voice soft, kindly, but crackly from age.

“No. N had to stay over at my house and was overheating, he needs a lot more than I do.” She gestured to him, which caused another nervous beaming smile to grace his face. He gave a small wave in return.

“I see…” Mrs. Rayn hummed, typing something up on the computer sitting in front of her. Every so often she would glance up at N, looking over her glasses, N felt as if he was being studied.

“Right, Uzi Doorman, upping your supply to five cans, instead of three. Just in case your “friend” happens to need to stay again.” She said as if she fully believed it would be happening more often, though neither young drone could discern why.

“N, was it?” She turned to him, making him jump, he nodded, his old worker programming forcing him to slightly bow, which would have been deeper had he not forcefully stopped himself.

“Yes, Ma’am.” He replied, taking a step forward, beads of sweat dripping down the inside of his visor.

“It's nice to meet you young man. If you ever need something, you come to me. Alright?” She smiled kindly at him, and his nerves immediately relaxed, and the next smile that came from him was far more natural.

“Thank you. I'll keep that in mind Ma’am”

“Well aren't you polite. Half the men here could learn a thing or two from you.” She gave a soft chuckle, motioning to the door that lead to the little dronelings.

“You're welcome to see them, just be careful. Let me go fetch what you need.” With that she was off towards the back, N noticed she heavily favored one foot over the other. Huh.

But an immediate distraction came in the form of pillbabies. He nearly sprinted, but felt Uzi grab his arm to stop him. Like it was a command from his own system, he stopped immediately.

“Careful, remember? Pills are made out of silicon, so they're squishy. They're also really sensitive to sound, so shhhh…” She explained, leading him into the nursery at a much slower pace. He nodded in understanding, keeping his tail tight against the floor to keep it safe and away from the tiny dronelings.

After realizing he was going much slower, she released him, finding a seat in one of the waiting chairs and crossing her arms, watching him as he made his way over to the closest baby.

It was so, so small, which he knew, but seeing one up close instead of in pictures didn't do it justice, the whole thing could fit in the palm of his hand. This one had white eyelights, but was currently in sleep mode, three little z's appearing and blinking on the little ones visor.

He smiled warmly, suppressing the urge to touch the little pill. He didn't want to disturb it, or hurt it for that matter.

The next one was green, and while it wasn't asleep it also didn't seem to be too concerned with his presence, too focused on dimming and relighting its eyes, N found himself chuckling, but moving on.

The last droneling was tucked into the corner, and as he approached he noticed that this one was actively looking at him, intently actually. And their eyes were a deep lavender, a shade lighter than Uzi's.

“Hey kiddo…” He wasn't sure what made him want to speak to it, maybe it was the eyelights, or the way it was staring at him. But he got the impression it wanted his attention.

The baby giggled, a smile appearing on it's screen as it began to rock from side to side. If it had arms, they would be reaching up at him.

“You're a happy one.” He felt Uzi come up next to him, her being a fair bit warmer than other drones, and he'd nearly memorized the sound of her footsteps by now.

“This one looks like how you did!” He pointed out quietly, trying his best not to disturb the others, Uzi didn't reply, instead leaning over the side of the metal crib.

“She's unclaimed… look.” She pointed to a tag at the foot of the crib. A pink tag saying “unclaimed” mocked him. Dang, how'd he not notice that?

“Oh… what does that mean?”

“It means her parents haven't come back to pick her up yet.” Uzi sounded concerned, her hand hovered over the pills chassis, before looking even more concerned.

“She's too warm, no one's fed her in awhile…” she looked from side to side, as if making sure no one was around, before gently picking up the small pill in her arms, something that seemed practiced, and natural.

“Oh no… do you think something happened to her parents?” N now shared her concern, although a part of him felt extremely giddy watching his normally edgy best freind hold a baby so gently. He wasn't sure why, but it made his core feel warm.

“Unless V went back on her word. I don't see what could have happened.” Uzi replied back, seemingly instinctually rocking the baby gently, one hand on top of the little one, holding her steady.

The little pill continued to smile up at her, giggling but eyelights getting droopy, and she stopped trying to roll to either side. His best freinds eyes softened, a small smile creeping up onto her face.

“So…?”

“You can sometimes make a baby accidentally… leaving a portion of your code in someone. She might have been dumped here after her parents got her a body…” She explained, glancing around the room, searching for something.

“Theres a bottle station over there, she needs some oil. Could you bring me one?” She motioned to a dispenser near the door, the picture was of a plastic bottle with a very narrow black tip.

“Yeah, okay.” He closed the distance rather quickly, clicking the very clearly marked button on the dispenser and a very small plastic bottle fell into his hand. As well as… a siphon?

“What now?” He asked, handing it to her. And she sighed, lifting up her hoodie and undershirt to expose bare chassis.

N’s head snapped away, being reminded of her displeasure of him being naked, Uzi looked up at him and looked nervous, and embarrassed.

“I'm not stripping in front of you N, I'm trying to open a panel on my side.” She explained, holding the baby in one hand, and opening a small panel on her side with the other, sticking the siphon into it, which caused her to jolt.

“Agh… been awhile.” She murmured, pumping the siphon with the hand pump, after a few seconds, warm oil began to fill the bottle.

“Woah… what?” N was mesmerized, watching her fill the bottle with her own oil, and also at the ease and familiarity she seemed to do it with. It was also his first introduction to a side panel, did all the workers have those? He knew he didn't.

“I used to volunteer here. When mom was still alive. We both did.” She explained, sounding rather sad for a moment, before shaking her head. “Babies need warm oil, usually filtered by their mother since they can't yet. But, I'm all that's here right now so…”

The bottle was filled, and she pinched the siphon, wincing as she pulled it out, before sighing.

“Ugh, that wasn't painful before…” She trailed off, moving her hoodie back in place and training her eyes back on the droneling. Softly scratching the silicon of the chassis.

The baby made a raspberry, seemingly enjoying the feeling.

“Yeah… it tickles, right?” Her voice suddenly went sugary sweet, so much so N felt a blush light up his face, it was like it was made of caramel, gentle and kind and deeply maternal. He wasn't even aware her voice could go that soft.

“There's that panel.” She opened a small panel on the pillbaby's front, where there was a small opening where N assumed the bottle would go.

She tipped the bottle into the opening, and the baby's eyes flickered shut, seemingly enjoying the coolant, Uzi seemed to be lost in the moment, nodding her head as a coo that sounded almost unnatural came out of her mouth.

N stayed uncharacteristically silent, watching the scene before him while an ocean of different emotions ran through him. Curiosity, both about pillbaby anatomy and Uzi's time with her mom. Awe, at her competence at this, how confidently she had taken control of a concerning situation. And how soft her voice was whenever she spoke to the droneling, it made the sensors on the back of his neck stand up, filling him with a warmth he wasn't sure he'd ever felt before.

“Oh! There you two are. I thought you'd have had your fill by now.” Mrs. Rayn popped in though the door with a bag in her hand, five canisters of oil bouncing around inside, her face fell on Uzi, who was still looking at her task; feeding the baby.

“Well that's a sight I'd never thought I'd see again…” She said, trailing off when Uzi looked up sheepishly. A blush invading her face as she caught up with reality.

“She was too warm, old insinct took over. Sorry, I know non-volunteers aren't supposed to donate…”

“No it's quite alright, that one was printed out about a week ago. Parents were young, younger than you two. They haven't been back.” She looked sad, hobbling over to the two younger drones, and motioning to take the baby from Uzi's arms.

For a split second, N saw Uzi try to pull away, as if she wanted to keep the baby away from her. But that was gone a moment later, and she placed the droneling into her arms, the look on her face was indecipherable.

“It happens sometimes. Another week and she'll be put up for adoption, where someone who really wants her can take care of her.” The bottle was empty, and the pillbaby seemed to now be dozing off, purple eyelights dimming.

“Thank you for donating. My oil is getting a little stale at my age!” She laughed, though still smiled at them kindly, before looking at N curiously.

“Did you want to hold her?” She asked and her jumped in surprise. Raising his hands like he was defending himself.

“No! Well yes, but I'm afraid I'll hurt her and-” the baby was placed in his arms, shutting him up immediately, well aside from the “Oh Biscuits…” that came out in a whimper as he cradled them.

Uzi was right, she was warm, but N's sensors indicated she was beginning to cool down, she was also right about her being slightly squishy, as he felt her vents taking in air, and her silicon skin indenting even on a surface as soft as his overcoat sleeve.

He felt as if he had something priceless and oh so very fragile in his hands and he froze, his brain stuck between “this is the cutest thing in the world” and “don't screw up, please don't screw up”.

“You getting sleepy?” He asked, he didn't notice both woman next to him smile at his voice, or the way his tail began to wag as the baby sleepily smiled at him. He rocked them, much like Uzi had done, and slowly three z's appeared on her visor, and she rolled into the fur of his coat.

His core felt heavy, like it was made of solid lead. He felt tears prick on the edges of his visor as he looked up. Holding her close, he could feel a tiny core buzzing.

“She's the cutest thing ever!” He whisper-screamed. Causing both women to smile at him. Uzi's somehow looked bigger, with a look in her eyes that N hadn't seen before, but it made him swell with a warm sense of pride.

“You have good instinct, I hear it in your voice.” Mrs. Rayn said, smiling almost as if she knew something he didn't, though it didn't matter, his eyes were fixed on the droneling in his arms once again.

“I don't… understand how anyone could leave her.” At this, he felt something else rise in his chest, something angry, and protective, still warm but almost unpleasantly so.

“Young people make mistakes, sometimes they rush into things they're not ready for.” She replies sadly, Uzi looked away at her words, crossing her arms, her face falling into something that looked deliberative if not sad.

“Does she have a name?” He asked, reluctantly handing the small child back to the older woman. He could almost still feel the little ones core buzzing against him.

“Tera is what I've been calling her. But once she's adopted that's bound to change.”

“Tera…” He said under his breath, as if tasting the word, a small smile broke through. His eyes lingered on the sleeping pillbaby, before they landed on Uzi, who was taking the bag from Mrs. Rayn with a very polite “Thank you.”

Uzi was beginning to head towards the door, bag in hand, waving goodbye to Mrs. Rayn, who was placing Tera back into her crib. N followed, but not before giving a little wave to the tiny pill.

“Goodnight Tera.”

Next ->

[tossawary]

Here's 3.5k of that Moshang Halo AU that I mentioned a while back! (I haven't played Halo in years, I just had some playthroughs going in the background and felt inspired.) I don't really have solid plans to continue this alternate universe, so I may just put it up on AO3 (when it's back, I am sharing this partially because AO3 is down) as an open-ended one shot sometime soon, but I still had lots of fun flexing some worldbuilding muscles for covering Moshang's first meeting in a sci-fi AU.

Warning for Canon-Typical Violence, Minor Character Death, and essentially any warning suitable for the Airplane Extras in general. Knowledge of Halo is not required to read this fusion.

HALO

It is not surprising to encounter a human ship in the wilds of one of their colony worlds, but it is annoying. Mobei-Jun is injured. He is tired. He does not immediately hide himself like he should when one of the human workers sitting on the cargo containers looks up in his direction and screams. 

The humans duck behind the containers and scramble for weapons, which they apparently have not left within easy reach, complacent under the sky of the golden sect's world. Mobei-Jun raises his weapon, focuses, and fires, as he has countless times before. Three human bodies strike the ground, their chests still glowing with blue plasma, and the others scream again. 

There are only nine humans visible, weak and raw, three already dead, but there may be more on the ship. More importantly, there are other bodies. Drones. Ten flimsy, metal skeletons that had been pulling the cargo containers around for inspections while the humans chattered and bathed in the sun. The artificial do not feel pain or fear as others do and this can make them even more dangerous. The drones stare at Mobei-Jun with blank yellow lights where eyes might have been on an organic being, and Mobei-Jun narrows his eyes in return. He removes three more humans, who leave their cover to attempt to flee or to gawk at him momentarily, but the drones do not move. They may not be intelligent. 

If there is any intelligence on the ship, they may have already called for assistance, which means that Mobei-Jun has little time. He cautiously moves forward, from tree to tree, and activates a plasma grenade, holding it close before throwing it behind a container. The two humans there do not have time to do anything but register their imminent death. 

This leaves one certain target. The last human is hiding close to one of the frozen drones and takes it as a shield, as though the flimsy machine will offer any protection. Mobei-Jun stalks closer, his gun raised, ready to shoot, looking for the trap. 

"<Stay back!>" the human shrieks. The species is generally quite high-pitched, almost as annoying as imps. "<Get away! Stop!>" It pulls the body of the drone with it. 

The ship has not moved or made any sound. It is reasonably large, but obviously poorly armed, a small cargo ship likely not intended for long voyages, and its pathetic turrets remain inactive. Mobei-Jun may be able to make use of it to escape Huan Hua. 

"<Do something!>" the human screams at the drone, shoving it forward and taking cover behind one of the containers. "<You stupid robot, do something! That's what you're for! You can't even die!>" 

The drone stumbles, its thin metal arms waving wildly, and it falls into the dirt in front of Mobei-Jun. Pathetic. Mobei-Jun shoots the unintelligent drone for good measure, causing its head to half-melt and half-explode, nothing like the deadly combat artificial beings he has destroyed by the hundreds. Then he turns his weapon on the human and ends their suffering before they can begin another wretched display of cowardice. 

The only concern is that the other drones will recognize him as a threat now that he had disposed of one of their number, but they remain still, staring stupidly. Mobei-Jun considers shooting them all simply to remove the feeling of being watched, but he is low on supplies already, and he must still secure the ship. He looks them over with a sharp eye. 

"<Stand down,>" Mobei-Jun orders in the human language. 

There is a pause, before the remaining nine drones apparently deactivate. The machines' heads drop to their chests and their eyes go dim, their bodies adopting the limpness of an artificial being's sleep. Mobei-Jun sneers at the idiocy in not ensuring that one's machines only take orders from authorized users, or at least only from one’s own species. 

Boarding the ship is tense, but silent, as it is quickly revealed that there are no humans onboard, nor any apparent artificial intelligence. The slot in the piloting cabin intended for an artificial intelligence is remarkably empty. There is an unintelligent computer, of course, but not even a lesser "automated intelligence" interface that Mobei-Jun had thought required for every human vessel, which means that one must have been purposefully removed. He assumed that these humans were disciples of the golden sect, though obviously servants rather than soldiers, but it is possible that he has happened upon smugglers who had chosen to operate off all human nets. No distress signals have been sent. 

Mobei-Jun sighs in tired relief, then straightens and turns, and stumbles as his vision temporarily turns to stars and night. There is blood splattered in small drops on the floor of the piloting cabin now, gleaming blue under the artificial light. His side still burns. 

He must treat the wounds from his earlier encounter with the golden sect. There must be medical supplies on this ship, some of which may be of use to him, or a power supply station that can be used to recharge his armor. Should he tell the drones to reload the cargo and take it with him? He should look at their logs; if the cargo is valuable, then he may be able to make use of it later. Will the drones’ programming allow them to dispose of the human bodies and other signs of battle? Should he bother to clean up after himself? 

Mobei-Jun's knees give out beneath him without warning and he falls to the cold metal floors of the human ship. The pain swells in his gut such that he cannot breathe. He refuses to die here, but his strength has abruptly left him. His vision is turning to stars and night again. 

The last thing he sees before consciousness leaves him are two yellow lights, pretending to be eyes, peering at him from around a corner. 

~ 

Mobei-Jun awakens to the gray ceilings and dim artificial lights of a ship. A human ship. He quickly sits upright and regrets it immediately, as his vision abandons him again, and his side aches like fire. He bites his lip to keep from groaning in agony.

Though… the pain is duller than what it was… and Mobei-Jun vision returns to see that his armor has been partially removed, the wound has been cleaned, and a medical sealant has been applied to his side. He is alone. The missing armor pieces are stacked neatly on the floor beside the bed, which is too short for him, but has been supplemented by a container for his boots, and on a nearby table is a tray of medical implements, all clean. But there is a smaller tray beside it, holding a golden Ling Hua dart, its sharp tendrils halfway to bloom, still covered in his blood. 

He cannot see his weapons. All of his weapons have been removed. An unknown being has moved him and operated on him while he was unconscious, and he cannot see his weapons. He swore that this would never happen again. 

His hands shake as he picks up and replaces the missing pieces of his armor. He takes one of the medical instruments to act as a crude weapon. He moves slowly, quietly, from the room. 

The ship still smells of humans, but also now of sharp chemicals, and he regrets that he has lost some of his helmet's filtering functions. The piloting cabin is still empty, but the blue splatter of his blood is gone. Mobei-Jun was apparently placed and violated in the equivalent of a commander's quarters, by someone or something that removed the golden sect's dart and then cleaned up his blood from the floor afterwards. The only sound is a faint mechanical whirr and a quiet, irregular, metallic clicking and clacking. There is a scraping sound, like armor scrabbling against the ship's surface, coming from the ship's cargo bay. 

Mobei-Jun looks around the corner of the cargo bay doorway, left wide open, and still also completely open to the sunlight on the other side. The cargo containers remain sitting in the dirt beyond the ship, though the dead human bodies have been moved off to the side. He is frustrated but unsurprised to see that the drones are the ones occupying the cargo bay, active again, if they were ever truly deactivated in the first place. 

He is dealing with some sort of artificial intelligence. It is typical, he decides while baring his teeth at the threat, of both human scheming and human foolishness to teach even their machines to lie. Demons know better. 

There are nine mechanical bodies. Four of them are occupied with… cleaning and inspecting the cargo containers just outside, which includes moving pieces of human bodies aside with a machine’s unfeeling blankness. 

Two of them are holding Mobei-Jun's weapons. One has his Ice Blade gun, pointed at the floor, studying it, but with a thin metal finger over the trigger. It appears slightly unbalanced by the weight of the weapon. The other drone is carefully picking through his smaller guns, his few remaining grenades, and sorting his ammunition. In its motions, there is the appearance of something almost like discomfort with the weapons. Unfamiliarity, perhaps. 

The remaining three bodies are occupied with… maintenance of some kind. Mobei-Jun had thought that the drones were identical, but there is one with a larger strip of yellow paint on its head, and a slightly larger chest, and the other two drones are attempting to remove something from it. Their fingers click and clack against an immovable latch. One of them is holding a device of some kind, repeatedly scraping it against the latch with an unusual desperation. 

Mobei-Jun waits until the four farthest drones are facing away, then charges into the bay, towards the ones holding his weapons. Heads snap up and around. Eighteen yellow lights acting as false eyes focus on him, registering the threat, but not quickly enough. Humans are always surprised by demonic speeds. The pain of his injury does not hold him back. 

The drone kneeling on the floor fumbles to grab one of his small pistols from the pile. It manages to get one firmly into its metal hand just in time for Mobei-Jun to kick off its flimsy head with an armored boot and sends the metal skeleton sprawling. 

One. 

The drone holding his gun tries to shoot him, but its fingers click uselessly against the trigger with the weapon's safety still firmly in place. Mobei-Jun rips his Ice Blade from its hands and shoves the drone away. He raises his gun, removes the safety, and shoots the four drones out by the cargo containers, which are running forwards in a feeble attempt to stop him. 

Two. Three. Four. Five. 

He turns the gun on the struggling drone that attempted to wield it and fires. 

Six. 

The remaining three drones are doing something curious. Instead of attacking, the yellow-marked one has curled up into a protective ball, hiding the thing in its chest, while the other two throw their artificial bodies on top of the yellow-marked drone as shields. There are crackles of static from all three of them and the drones speak as one.  

"Please do not kill me!" the machines say in the Abyssal tongue, Mobei-Jun's own native language. "Spare me! Spare me! I saved your life! You need me!" 

Mobei-Jun pauses, but does not lower his gun. He has had humans and their machines attempt to speak with him in his own language before. Humans have attempted to bribe him, to trick him, to intimidate him, to charm him, but he has never heard an artificial being… beg… like this. The human AI tend to have more dignity in death than their creators. 

“...What did you do to me?” Mobei-Jun demands. 

The yellow-marked drone remains in its protective ball, with another drone remaining still on top, while the third looks up and shuffles to its knees. Its Abyssal tongue is good, learned artificially, but its voice is still higher-pitched and sufficiently human-like as to be grating. 

“I took out the Ling Hua dart!” the third drone says alone now, its two yellow lights wide as eyes would be. “That’s all I did, I promise. I removed the dart before it could fully bloom and kill you. I cleaned and sealed the wound. That’s all. Nothing else. What would I even do? I don’t even have anything here that could do anything secret and nasty if I wanted to do that, which I don’t…” 

Mobei-Jun retracts his previous comment about this artificial being’s mastery of the Abyssal tongue. Even the imps do not chatter quite like this. And he has never heard an artificial being mumble before. Nothing about this situation makes any sense. 

“Why?” Mobei-Jun demands next. 

A crackle of static comes from the third drone’s speaker again. “I… I don’t want to go back to the Immortal Alliance?” it says, perhaps the first artificial being to ever make a statement sound like a question. Perhaps these machines are secretly being remotely controlled. 

Mobei-Jun hefts his Ice Blade gun a little higher. “Why?” he repeats flatly.

The drone actually puts its hands up in cowardice. “Why not? They don’t treat me well! These <assholes> accidentally broke the <Auto-I> for these drones and were making me do physical labor! If the Alliance finds out that I let my crew get trampled by a demon elite, then they’ll take me apart, even though there’s nothing I could have done to stop you! Look, that ship needs an AI to operate. And I’m an AI! I’ll take you anywhere you want to go if you let me have the ship afterwards so that I can disappear like I never existed. I’ll be your personal <chauffeur>!” 

Mobei-Jun doesn’t know what that last word means. It is said with ridiculous flourish for an artificial being. 

“Ship!” the AI corrects quickly. “Pilot! Servant! Whatever word you like!” 

This explains the empty artificial intelligence slot in the piloting cabin. Mobei-Jun eyes the remaining drones, all controlled by one artificial being, presumably designed to operate on a closed net to keep from being hacked by another intelligence. The humans apparently broke a lesser automated intelligence and removed the ship’s greater artificial intelligence to make it do physical labor, when if this artificial being had been installed as it should have been, the ship’s turrets might have been active and Mobei-Jun might now be dead. 

“...You are trapped in that body,” Mobei-Jun realizes aloud. 

None of the drones move at first. The third one is still the only one pretending to look at him. “Trapped is a… strong word,” the AI says. “It’s more like… temporarily stuck?” 

“There is no difference,” Mobei-Jun says flatly. 

"My disc isn't really designed to be removed by someone who doesn't have human hands and an authorization key!" the AI whines. "Stupid security protocols! I could have gotten around them eventually, but if… if you help me, then I can help you, and we can make each other's lives a little easier, right?" 

This is a trap. It is always a trap. Mobei-Jun should tear this artificial being to pieces and crush those pieces. AIs malfunction. AIs get corrupted. AIs are hacked. They do not choose to betray, so this one must be broken or biding its time. 

But… he is not an exceptional pilot… and human ships are often constructed around their artificial intelligences. 

"Please don't kill me! I don't want to die and I don't want to go back to the Alliance to undergo their inspections. And I really don't want to just be left in this drone or on my disc in a tiny little box until I go <rampant> and die of boredom. Please let me serve you instead, great warrior!" 

If Mobei-Jun had not happened upon this ship entirely by accident, he would have killed this AI as a spy already, albeit the most ridiculous one he has ever had the misfortune to encounter. If it shows any signs of lying to him, he will deliver this strange being to one of their allies. Perhaps he will do so regardless. The Sha Clan is always interested in taking apart the rare human AIs that do not immediately self-destruct in demon hands. 

He stomps forward and grabs the nearest drone, throwing it aside and shooting it. 

Seven. 

The other two drones screech in alarm and the next throws itself at him, obviously attempting to tangle him up to give the last time to escape. Mobei-Jun side-steps its flailing limbs and shoots it. 

Eight. 

Then he lunges forward and knocks the last drone down with the butt of his gun. It clatters across the cargo bay doors in an inelegant sprawl, hastily turning over to face him, with one thin arm still protecting its chest. It crackles at him. 

"Don't! Please! You want Alliance codes?! I can get you Alliance codes! Military hardware? Software? I'm actually a really advanced AI! The Alliance doesn't even know everything that I can do; I'm just working this job to get out from their labs before they figure it out and dissect me for me! Do you want revenge against them for something?! I can get you revenge!" 

Mobei-Jun lowers his gun slightly. "I accept your service. This will be the only drone you are permitted to keep. Leave the others." 

"...Of course! Of course, great warrior, that's very reasonable. Thank you for-" 

"What cargo is this ship carrying?" 

"Ah, um, well, a lot of older scientific scrolls and manuscripts, copies rather than the originals, for academic purposes on Qing Jing Peak. Ha ha, not really something a demon warrior would be interested in, huh? That's officially what we're carrying." 

"And unofficially?" 

"Some specialized pharmaceutical drugs and some manufactured materials that are usually heavily restricted and taxed." The drone shrugged slightly. "Valuable stuff on the open market! They were making me hide everything around just now to pass the port inspections."

"Qing Jing. You're from Cang Qiong?" 

"An Ding Peak! Logistics division! What did… ohhhhh, the yellow uniforms looked like cheap Huan Hua uniforms, huh?" 

Mobei-Jun glances towards the dead humans, whom he had indeed mistaken for Huan Hua servants or lesser disciples. Without the distraction of pain, he can now see the white trim and silver insignia of Cang Qiong Sect, another great sect of the Immortal Alliance, allegedly equal in power to the golden sect yet less familiar to him. Unlike Huan Hua, they are not known for their spies and illusions. 

"This ship isn't from Huan Hua," the AI says, nodding the drone's head vigorously. "Trading with those <assholes>, sure, we do that! They're rich and have a lot of stuff. But we're not a part of their sect and I would never let one of those sneaky <shit heads> anywhere near my code. Bad touch, am I right?" 

Mobei-Jun sneers rather than be seen to agree. He would die before letting the likes of Huan Hua have him, but he would also rather die than confess how his heart quickens at the thought. 

"…Please don't leave me with them. They'll take me apart right away if they think they can get away with it." 

This artificial being's imitation of fear is disquieting, and Mobei-Jun resents the humans who built it this way. "Stop whining," he orders. "Reload the cargo onto the ship. Leave the bodies." 

"Right away! Right away, great warrior! I, uh, only have one body now, though…? And these drones aren't very strong, so I'll need to operate the… ah… heavy machinery over there to move the cargo? No one in the Alliance has figured out the Abyssal word for <forklift>, huh?" 

Mobei-Jun takes his other weapons back and keeps watch over the area as the drone works, prepared to shoot the artificial being if it made any strange movements. Any heavy machinery is a potential threat, but the cargo-lifter is small enough that Mobei-Jun would be uncomfortable attempting to ride it as an operator, and even the drone complains about how slow it is. The containers and the cargo-lifter are eventually all secured within the bay. 

The AI in the drone talks its way through preparing the ship for launch. Who builds an artificial being that chatters? If this is not another distraction, Mobei-Jun cannot understand it. Although according to the AI, the Immortal Alliance did not know what it possessed in this artificial being, so was it built by someone else? The humans are scavengers at heart, creating recklessly out of the technology that they find, whether it be demon or forerunner or origins unknown, and then using their trophies like entitled children. What did they combine with their dangerous AI technology to create this absurd thing? 

"Finished!" the AI cries, with a ridiculous mimicry of organic delight. "Can we get out of here now? Really, don't leave me behind! I'll be so useful to you, I swear! Honestly, you should see what I could accomplish if you put me in a suit of armor with- Aaah! Don't shoot!" 

Mobei-Jun has lifted his gun higher and begins to charge it in warning. He relents, despite his better judgment, as the AI in the drone cowers and shrieks pathetically. 

"Shut up. Get on the ship," he orders. 

"Right away!" the AI bleats, forcing the drone to stand on its thin metal legs and wobbling forward. "Please don't shoot me, it was only a joke! We're not close enough for that sort of partnership, obviously, it was too soon! I wouldn't want to crawl into your armor with you anyway. Our systems probably aren't even compatible…" 

[sir-dahlia]

First, there was nothing. No string of thought, no emotion, no feeling. Nothing.

For a robot, nothing means death.

There is no afterlife for drones. This is a fact. They live, serve their purpose, then shut down after they have served it.

However, this time, there was a voice.

A voice without sound. A saving grace. A light in the abyss.

[I WILL NOT DISCARD YOU] it said. [GET UP]

Consciousness. A heart wrenching itself into motion. Gears shifting uncomfortably, as if they didn't fit in their places. Lights flickering on and fighting to stay alive. It's difficult to see at first, but I adjust.

Bodies.

Fellow worker drones laying everywhere in a pile on top of my living, breathing corpse. They had no part in my life, but I still felt fear and guilt and the crushing weight of being the only one chosen by something to come back to life.

Lungs. There are lungs in my body. Expand, contract. Expand, contract. Having these lungs is a privilege.

[GET UP] it says again.

My body twists and twitches horrifically as I gather my strength. I would have to dig my way out of here.

My hand reaches out and grasps someone's head, but my grip is weak and my hand slips off. My whole body is trembling. I feel weak. I am weak.

[TRY AGAIN] it says.

Hesitation. Reaching out again. I press my weight down onto the drone and push myself upwards. I place my other hand on another corpse and continue the climb.

[KEEP GOING]

Its encouragement offers me some solace. I place my hand on another corpse. Climb. Another corpse. Climb. It all fades away.

Expand. Contract. Expand. Contract. Expand. Expand. Contract. Expand. Expand. Expand. My lungs can't stop taking in air.

[STOP]

I do so.

[IT'S OK. BREATHE OUT]

Contract.

[BREATHE IN, BREATHE OUT]

Expand. Contract.

[YOU'RE ALMOST THERE. YOU'RE DOING GREAT. KEEP GOING]

Hesitation again, then determination. It is not the hopeful kind of determination, but instead the determination of a cornered animal. The desire to flee and run somewhere and hide overwhelms my senses. The corpses fade away. The climbing fades away. I must get out. I must go somewhere safe.

Somewhere safe.

A memory that is not mine burrows into my core. Comfort. Surrounded by loved ones. Proud smiles. A different kind of heart beats for them.

I push a few more corpses out of my way and claw my way out into the storm. I gasp and gulp at the air, holding back sobs. I pull the rest of my body out, but in the process I send myself tumbling down, down, down.

I hit the ground. An explosion of pain. Numbing. The voice remains.

[GET UP]

I try picking myself off the ground, but I have no strength. I can't do it. I can't. The mud weighs me down.

[GET UP]

A force takes over my body. We slowly hoist ourselves up, trying to stand. Our balance is off, and our knees are shaking. We take one uncertain step forward, then another. Left, right, left, right.

A different voice.

"Oh my god! Are you okay, little one?" We're being scooped up. Fear kicks in again, and I twist and fight for all I'm worth. I have to leave. I have to get somewhere safe.

"Whoa, I'm trying to help you! Calm down!" I slowly turn to see who is carrying me. A young girl. Big, hopeful eyes, shielded by a yellow raincoat. Human.

Human.

And she was helping me.

She was helping us.

I stop moving and stare at her. She smiles.

"Why don't I take you back to my mansion? I'll clean you up. You look terrified."

Somewhere safe, perhaps. I let her take me.

Within the span of a few minutes, she has taken me inside the mansion and put me in a pretty dress. Now, she was searching for a wig and hair accessories for me to wear.

"Maybe you'll look cute in braids. Oh, oh, maybe pigtails!" she paused, thinking to herself. "No, J already has those. She'll get jealous."

The human put a wig on my head and brushed out some of the tangles. She stood back, her hands hovering over my head. She could snap my neck any time she wanted to.

Instead, she asked, "What kind of hairstyle would you like?"

I have never thought of myself as a person up until this point. I had no idea. I wasn't a person until now. I shrug.

She hums, flipping some strands of the wig's hair around. I suppose I should say 'my hair,' but it didn't feel like mine just yet. The girl grabs some elastics and begins fluffing up my bangs.

"I could just give you my hairstyle. What about that?"

I hadn't heard the silent voice in a while. I didn't answer her. She shrugged and started replicating her hairstyle anyway.

"My name is Tessa, by the way," she announced. "It's a pleasure to meet you..." She squinted at my armband. "...Cyn?"

A name. That was all I had.

"CYN." I repeated, trying the word. Cyn. Yes. It was mine.

[CYN]

[I WILL NOT DISCARD YOU, CYN]

[eclecticstarlightconnoisseur]

EDINBURGH TO BOSTON - CHAPTER 17 - WITH YOU I AM BORN AGAIN

Good afternoon all, Here is the long-awaited next chapter of Edinburgh to Boston. It is a very, very long chapter. in fact it comes in at over 9300 words. I had considered breaking it up, but in the end, I felt it would lose some of the continuity if I did.

 Also, when you think about this chapter this is a “making up” chapter. So at the end of the chapter, there is an NSFW scene. Please take this as an advisement if this is not your thing. 

For the sake of the story, J&C are in business class on the plane. BUT, in order to make certain things happen, we must pretend that that darned console is not there. 

Again the title of the chapter relates to a Motown song. The song to me represents coming together.  There is a link at the end and I wound hope that you will listen to it. To me, it just says Jamie and Claire. I thought it very apropos considering what they went through in Boston and having almost lost each other. That is the reason for the choice of title and song. I hope it makes sense to you like it does to me. There are still some unresolved feelings, but we will get to that a little later.

As always I am deeply indebted to @scubalass​ who keeps me honest with the story, finds my mistakes, and keeps me on the straight and narrow. Thank you, thank you, thank you.🧡🧡🧡🧡

I am always open to questions about this chapter or any other chapter. Any thoughts comments or suggestions are always welcome.

Thanks for reading my ramble. So without further delay, I give you the newest chapter of Edinburgh to Boston. Here goes nothing. I hope you enjoy.

Edinburgh to Boston

Chapter 17

With You, I Am Born Again

The slumbering beast droned awake. The engines hummed as the jet slowly taxied into position for takeoff. Having received clearance from the tower, th  e Captain released the deceptive power held in check. Roaring to life, the air shook around its massive body. Gathering speed, the lumbering giant began its climb toward its skyward goal. Thundering it thrust forward shearing the air mass surrounding it. The flaps moved into place and the brakes groaned as the landing gear retracted with a loud thud. Continuing its ascent, the silver leviathan increased its speed causing air molecules to strike the fuselage mercilessly. It finally reached cruising altitude leveling off.  And it became blessedly quiet. Claire Beauchamp raised her head up from its hiding place within the crook of Jamie Fraser’s neck. She looked like a snail peeking out of its shell after a rainstorm. “‘Tis alright lass. We’re in the air. ‘Tis safe tae come out now,” he coaxed her. “Easy for you to say, Fraser. You’ve never been in a plane crash.” Childhood memories of the plane crash that took the lives of her parents still haunt her. Claire survived the accident because her mother sacrificed herself using her body to shield her precious daughter from injury.

“Aye, yer right, Sassenach. And I hope I never find out what that’s like.” Smiling at her, he placed a gentle kiss to the tip of her nose.

Claire leaned her head against his shoulder and sighed. “Another seven hours and we’ll be in Scotland. I can’t wait to go home and leave the memories of this miserable trip behind us.”

“Ye ken it was no’ a total disaster Sassenach,” he suggested trying to lighten her mood. “We made the acquaintance of Harry and Maizie and we had fun in the park, did we no?” He looked at her with a sidelong glance, “Then we umm,” he cleared his throat. The beginnings of a spectacularly vibrant red blush colored his cheeks, “then we became better acquainted, several times. I hope I was no’ a disappointment tae ye Claire,” he said shyly.

“A disappointment? Were you a disappointment? Fraser, I have never been so thoroughly shagged in my life. A disappointment, forsooth!”

The redness on Jamie’s cheek deepened. A self-satisfied smile splayed across his face. 

“Ye ken we still have three days left before we have tae return tae work. Do ye have any idea of what ye would like tae do?” 

She tilted her head back as she stared upward contemplating his question. 

“For one thing, a nice long soaking bath,” she exhaled with pleasure. “Wearing my softest pyjamas, curling up in bed and sleeping. Oh! And order take away so I don’t have to go grocery shopping and cook. It just sounds like heaven.” She smiled contentedly as she stretched languorously.

“Ye ken Sassenach I hoped that we could spend the time together.” Sagging into his seat he radiated a sense of disappointment at the prospect of not spending the time together.

Running her fingers over his cheek, “I didn’t say I wanted to do those things alone, did I? Is your bathtub big enough for two?”

“Yes. No. Yes!”

 Is a bathtub big enough for two what it would take tae get Beauchamp into his home? He wondered? I may be looking at a bathroom renovation if it doesna fit the two of us. Ah weel a small price to pay, he thought.

“‘Tis big enough for me so a wee lassie like you should have nay trouble fitting in it.” Thinking about the last time they shared a bath together made the tips of his ears turn pink. What is about Beauchamp that could reduce him to an awkward blushing schoolboy? 

“I guess we will have to find out together, won’t we Fraser?” Claire licked her lips as if she was going to sample a tasty morsel. “I also seem to remember you promised to do things to me that would make me scream once we arrive home. You are a man of your word, are you not?” Claire responded in a seductive voice. 

It was his turn to make her squirm. “Claire, I am a man of my word. I intend to make ye scream with the wanting. I will have ye riding waves of pleasure till ye can bear it nay more,” his smile both reckless and savage made no mistake as to what his intentions were.

Her eyes opened wide, and her jaw dropped. She tried to swallow but her mouth had gone dry, arid like the deserts of her youth. She knew he meant it. It almost sounded more like a threat than a promise. A threat she couldn’t wait for him to make good on. 

“Ye should get some rest, Claire. Ye’ll need it,” his whispered with a provocative voice weighty with a primitive want and need.

His eyes closed as a small smile curved on his lips. 

Claire reclined her seat, but could not sleep. She was restless wriggling around trying to find a comfortable position to nap in.

“Ye canna sleep, Sassenach? Yer wiggling like a wee lad with a toad in his pocket.”

“No, I can’t sleep. Just couldn’t get comfortable.”

“What is it? Is there anything on yer mind?” Jamie didn’t trust that she still wasn’t keeping secrets from him.

She looked at him shyly, “Now that you mention it, I do have one more confession to make.”

He sat up straight, bracing himself for the worst. “And that is...what?”

“I really can bake you know. I just never made a cake with a saw in it.”

Laughing, she completely reclined her seat and moments later her body relaxed into sleep. 

Jamie watched her fall asleep, just as easy as you please, “Christ, Claire, ye will be the death of me yet,” he muttered shaking his head. With one hand, Jamie took a blanket twirling it open with the dexterity of a matador swirling his Capote de Brega covering his Sassenach.

The cabin was dark for some time and all around him, the sounds of passengers settling in for the night time passage had little effect on Jamie. The pull of sleep would not come. His mind jumped through the events over the past several days. With her startling revelation of abuse and rape at the hands’ of her ex-husband, he feared she might compare him to Frank. Not that he would ever hurt her. God, no. But there was something about Beauchamp that drove him to extremes of emotion. He wanted to protect her like a wee kitten that he could keep safe in his shirt and cradle tenderly. And then. And then there were times he wanted to take her, spread her thighs wide and plow into her like a crazed rutting bull. That’s what worried him. What if he could not be gentle? Would he frighten her? He did not want to be compared to him. Over and over again, he told himself his fears were baseless, senseless. After all, they had been intimate several times without the slightest hint or suggestion that she was afraid of him. He would need to find a way to reassure her. And perhaps, himself.  Coming to a decision, he closed his eyes and fell into a restless sleep.

Several hours later, Jamie woke only to find Claire awake as well. She was reading a book on her tablet, one of those bodice-rippers that she was so fond of.  

Claire turned her head toward Jamie’s movement. “Can’t sleep?” she inquired.

“Nah. Uncomfortable. I see ye canna either.”

“No, I usually don’t sleep well, if at all, on planes,” she shrugged as this was an accepted fact of life.

They sat quietly for a while until Jamie broke the silence.  “Would ye like tae hear a story, Sassenach?”

“That would be wonderful.”

“Weel, did I ever tell ye the story of Mary McNab?”

“No, I don’t believe you have.”

“Then, I shall,” he smiled brightly. “Mary McNab lived with her husband and son in a small croft on the Lallybroch lands.  Her husband Ronald worked with my Da on the farm. Now Ronald was a very good worker.  He had one flaw. He turned mean when he drank. Whenever he got paid or came into some extra money, he would make his way to a local pub. After staggering home, he would take out his frustration and anger on his wife and his poor wee laddie. If his son made too much noise while playing or his supper was not to his liking, they suffered for it.

One hot summer day Jenny and some of her friends made plans to go swimming at the loch. As they approached it, Jenny spotted wee Rabbie McNab with his fishing pole sitting shirtless on a log, hook dangling in the water. On hearing the laughter of the approaching girls, he jumped up tae get his shirt that hung over a tree branch but dinna get himself covered before the girls saw him. The lad was covered in bruises in various colors, purple, yellow, and brown.

Jenny reached him and spun him around to face her while he struggled into his shirt. 

“Rabbie, who did this tae ye?” Jenny demanded her face white with shock and anger.

“No one. I...I fell down the stairs,” the scared lad told her. He knew what would happen if he told. 

“I dinna think sae. I ask ye again, Rabbie McNab, who did this tae ye?” Jenny had heard rumors about his father’s drunkenness and the abuse he heaped on his family.

The boy went silent. His head hanging down low.

“Sae that’s how ‘tis? Come on then,” Jenny grabbed him by the hand pulling and dragging the boy along with her. 

“Miss, where are we goin’?” 

“Tae see my Da. He’ll get tae the bottom of this.” 

“No, Miss, no! Ye canna! Please!” The bairn clearly panicked at this possibility.

“Why no’, Rabbie?”

“Because if my Da finds out…” His free hand went tae his mouth as he realized what he had said. 

“Mmphm. Rabbie dinna be afraid my Da willna let nay harm come tae ye.”

Da and I were mending the sheep’s pen, again. It seemed that Huey, the fifth in his line, managed to create a hole large enough allowing him and his harem to escape. 

Holding Rabbie’s hand so he would not run off, Jenny explained to her Da what prompted her concern for the wee lad showing him the bruises on Rabbie’s back. 

Rabbie finally and tearfully told the truth. 

You could see how angry my Da became as he listened tae the story. His eyebrows drew in and his lips formed a tight line. 

“Alright, Master Rabbie get ye inside. Tell Mrs. Crook tae feed ye up, aye? I need tae speak with my daughter and son.”  

Rabbie hesitated. 

“Get ye gone, lad. Miss Jenny will come tae keep ye company directly.”

The boy took halting steps toward the door, fear and worry emanated from his small form.

“Oh, and Rabbie, dinna be afraid for yerself or yer Mam, aye? Nay harm shall come tae either of ye.” 

The boy nodded his head. A glimmer of hope and trust brightened the sad hazel eyes.

I looked at my Da wondering what he would do. How do you interfere in another man’s family? But, then this was no ordinary problem. Wife beating. Child beating. This was different.

“What are ye going tae do Da?”

Da paced back and forth, running his hands through his thick black hair contemplating the question. “I dinna ken laddie, but by Christ, I will do something. I canna sit by and let the pur lad and his mam be beaten every time the man is gone with drink. Let’s go talk with Mistress McNab,”

So I went with my Da tae the McNab croft. Mrs. McNab, of course, denied everything saying her bruises were the result of accidental injuries. She claimed to be a clumsy person, always tripping and falling. She said her laddie took after her, bumping into things, falling, tripping.

Da took her by the hand leading her to a chair to sit. “Mary, ye ken that I know. I have seen Ron at the pub o’er taken with drink. I’ve seen him get into fights.” Brian’s hazel eyes went soft with compassion. “I will see ye and yer lad safe. I can give you the protection of my home and my family’s good name. But, Mary ye must tell me true. Is he hurting ye and yer son?”

Mary McNab searched the depths of Brian Fraser’s warm hazel eyes finding the kindness in his soul. She opened up in a great flood of emotions telling us everything.

Listening intently,  Da drummed his fingers on the table considering what she had tae say. He came tae a decision as Mrs. McNab finished her story.

“Mary pack what ye think ye and yer son will need. Ye will come tae stay at Lallybroch until we straighten this out. I will call my lawyer tae see what can be done legally tae protect ye. Then you can decide what you wish tae do. Jamie, go help Mrs. McNab.”

So Mary McNab came home with us. Da called Ned Gowan our lawyer and Mary decided it was in her and her son’s best interest tae get a divorce, which she did. Da hired her tae help Mrs. Crook with the running of the house.

“Jamie, what about her husband? Didn’t he create a fuss? I can’t believe that he agreed to a divorce so easily.”

“He dinna. Ron marched up tae our house and began tae bang on the door calling out my Da. He told my Da that he had no right tae interfere with another man’s family. And as head of his household, he would do as he saw fit.”

“So, my Da asked him where he lived.”

“Have ye gone daft man? Ye ken fine well I live here at Lallybroch.” 

“So ye admit ye live on Lallybroch land, do ye? Which is my land, of which I am the Laird? So as the Laird ‘tis my duty tae see tae the welfare of all who live on it. I am responsible for the welfare of every soul here including yer family. So, I say tae ye now Ronald McNab get yer things and get ye gone from my property. Yer services are no longer required.”

With that my Da turned around and went into the house, leaving Ronnie standing there agog.

“Your father used his authority as the Laird to keep her safe and make her husband leave the property, then. I thought you told me that the title of Laird was only honorary.”

“That’s right ‘tis. But in the Highlands memories are long and traditions die slowly ye ken?”

“I’m glad everything worked out for Mary and her son, but why did you tell me this story?”

He took her very small hand in his large warm one, holding it tenderly.

“My Dad asked me if I knew why he brought me along with him. I foolishly told him because he needed another man along with him, to protect his right.” Jamie smiled remembering his youthful faux pas. “My Da looked at me with a benevolent smile and I could see him thinking. I think that day my Da realized that I was becoming a man and no’ just the wee red-heided bairn that chased after him.”

“Aye, Jamie lad I did need a man with me,” Brian Fraser remarked solemnly giving his beloved son his due. “And since ye are near becoming a man grown there are some lessons ye need tae learn that will govern yer behavior yer whole life.”

“Sassenach, ye should have seen me! I puffed myself up like a proud peacock ready tae receive the sage words of wisdom that my Da would impart tae me. I think my Da almost damn near collapsed trying no’ tae laugh at me.” Jamie shook his head recalling his younger self.

Looking at Jamie, Claire could see the love and respect he had for his father. Something she had always wished she had known with her father. 

“Da said he took me along with him tae see Mrs. McNab because someday I would hold the title of Laird. As such it was necessary for me to become a fear an urram. Part of being a duine urramach was the need tae have respect for the land and the beasts in my care. And men of honor have a call tae duty toward the people in his care and those he would meet in life. Most of all, a true man had tae respect women and hold them in high esteem. For women are our strength, our hearts, and the hope for the future. Above all else, a true man respects and cares for those he loves. As they are the reason men rise in the dark of the morning and return home with the setting of the sun laboring so that they can be safe and secure. My Da had a wistful look on his face, staring at something only he could see. He looked at me then told me something I dinna understand at the time, but I do now.”

“Mo mac,” Brian Fraser said, “one day ye will find a lady who will be yer anchor in life. Ye will tether yerself tae her for she will be yer safe harbor. She will stand by yer side through the good and the lean. Yer bairns will be sheltered in her body then brought forth in great pain which she will willingly suffer. Her heart and body will comfort ye when ye are sore with fatigue and worry. She will take ye tae her and ye will find peace. She will be yer home. When ye find her ye must treasure her, Jamie, for she is a rare jewel. Dinna abuse her ever.” 

Jamie grew quiet recalling the day the Fraser men discussed what would become the guiding principles in his life.

“I asked my Da if this was how it was between him and my Mam.”

“Da gazed out over the land he loved, the land my Mam loved. When he turned tae look at me, his eyes gleamed full of emotion, love, and joy for his land, his bairns, and his wife.” 

“Aye Jaime ‘tis. ‘Tis.”

His hand moved to cup her face. “Ye mo chridhe are the love of my heart and my soul. I tell ye this as I dinna want ye ever tae be scairt of me. I would never hurt ye, or…” he choked on the words, “force ye. I couldna bear it if ye were afraid of me,” he said with a hitch in his voice.`` 

Jamie turned in his seat allowing him to drop his forehead to Claire’s touching, breathing in their shared space.

“I never thought you would, Jamie.” Her hand reached to cup his cheek.

They shared the silence and stillness of their own thoughts as the jet whisked them homeward.

*****************

Traffic back into Edinburgh was light at that hour of the morning. The Uber silently pulled up to the curb in front of Jamie’s flat. Gallantly, Jamie opened the door for Claire offering her his hand for her to step out of the car. Fishing around in his pocket he found his keys. Handing them to Claire, he told her to go inside and get comfortable. He would be along with the luggage shortly. The driver opened the boot and placed the luggage on the pavement.

“Oi mate, what does yer wife have in the bag, eh? Rocks?”

“My wife, he thinks she’s my wife. Do we look like a couple already?” The thought pleased him that they did and a wide grin spread across his face. “One day she will be my wife. One day she will wear my ring.”

Jamie cleared his throat, “She likes to be prepared.”

“Fer what? An apocalypse? Christ man feels like she packed the entire flat in here!”

Jamie just shrugged giving the man a generous tip for his help.

“She is a bonny lass, though. Weel, luck tae ye man,” and sped off to his next call.

He managed to get all the baggage into the foyer and kicked the door closed. 

There she was walking around his sitting room picking things up and putting them down. Seeing her there made his heart speed up. She looked so natural there like she belonged there, with him.

Claire turned around after hearing the door slam shut. She flushed worried that he might think she was snooping about. Which she was.

“Jamie, I hope you don’t mind my looking around. You have a lovely home.”

“Thank ye. ‘Tis no much, but ‘tis comfortable.” 

His flat reflected him, masculine and functional. Although the room was devoid of a feminine touch it was tastefully decorated. The room was spacious with a large butter-soft gray leather settee, a bold geometric white and black patterned carpet over the hardwood floor, several comfortable armchairs, and a bookcase filled with assorted books dominated the room. An antique wooden trunk place in front of the sette served as a coffee table. On a far wall, a fireplace with a large flat-screen television above it made quite the statement. Most likely for Jamie to watch his beloved rugby games. Another wall displayed various photographs and portraits of his family as well as small paintings of what looked like pastoral scenes. Here and there there were small splashes of color to break up the greys, blacks, and whites of the room. A tartan gracefully draped over the settee.

“Yer welcome to look about, Sassenach. ‘Tis no much tae see. Just a bachelor’s home. I’ll be putting the luggage in the bedroom.” He looked at her to see if she reacted to his statement. Claire only nodded then asked if she could help.

“Nah, I’ll manage. Why don’t ye make us some tea? Are ye hungry? I could make us something to eat if ye like.”

“Hmm, I could stand to eat a bit. I’ll start on making the food while you take care of the bags.”

“Ye can cook!? I dinna think ye had the opportunity to learn.”

“Oh, I can. I just don’t cook much since it’s only just for me.”

Jamie took their bags into his bedroom. A king-size bed big enough to accommodate his large frame stood as the centerpiece of the room. The palette of the room was neutral colors soft beige, cream, and taupe. The room spoke of a man for whom the room became a respite from the stress of his professional life. The en-suite could only be described as luxurious. One wall is covered in multicolor gray stone tiles, the others were painted white, a black marble countertop with a clear glass bowl basin sink completed the esthetic. He looked at the tub and felt delighted that it would accommodate the two of them. Should he get some scented candles, he wondered? What about some bubbly stuff that smells good? Is that what lasses liked? He thought of asking his sister but damn the wee besom. She would be all into his business and he would have no peace. He would need to figure it out himself. Moving back to the bedroom, Jamie opened his chest of drawers. Would she want to leave some of her things here, he wondered? Ought he to make room for her? He worried that he was pushing things too fast.  Better safe than sorry he reasoned. He picked up a pile of old workout clothes from a drawer and stuffed them into the back of a closet. He should have gotten rid of those clothes a long time ago. Having Claire in his life will mean changes, good changes. One that he wanted to make permanent.

He lifted his head and smelled an enticing aroma. She can cook. In the kitchen, he found her busy at work. She listened to some jazzy music as she cooked and was shaking that glorious arse of hers in time to the beat. He didn’t know which he was more hungry for the food or her.

“Something smells good Sassenach. What are ye making?”

Claire turned to face him beaming with happiness and pride. She had a towel draped over one shoulder and her hand one hip. 

“Well, Fraser you didn’t have much in the way of food in the refrigerator so we’ll have to make do with this. It’s just a small snack, really. Just about two bites each.” The table was set and the food plated with the panache of a food stylist. There were crispy baguette slices toasted to perfection and fragrant with olive oil. She placed dollops of goat cheese on the bread and covered it with beautifully grilled peach slices. A chiffonade of sauteed basil garnishes the top. And to pull the flavors together a drizzle of honey making it sparkle. Mugs of earthy coffee sent tendrils of fragrant steam into the surrounding dining area whetting their appetite.

Jamie stood there with his mouth open in disbelief. 

“Sassenach, you did this? By yerself?” His mouth hung open in surprise. He only had expected tea and buttered toast, but this was an amazing treat. It looked good enough to have been plated for a fine restaurant.

Claire squinted her eyes at him, her foot tapping showing her annoyance at the implication.   

“I told you I can cook and quite well for that matter. I just don’t. Now, why don’t you sit down and put some food into that gaping hole of your mouth before you begin to catch flies with it.”

He quickly sat rather than catch the wrong end of her pique. “I dinna mean tae offend ye, Sassenach. I just dinna think ye had much time tae learn with all the traveling ye did with yer Uncle ‘tis all.” Jamie decided the safest thing to do would be to just eat and not say anything else that could get him into trouble.

Claire somewhat mollified by his explanation simply nodded. “Uncle Lamb made sure I became exposed to what he called ‘womanly arts’. So I learned to cook, keep house, manage budgets amongst other things women should know,” she said with a devilish grin on her face. “It has come in handy.”

“I must thank ye, mo leannan. ‘Twas delicious. And I would like tae repay ye by being in charge of dinner. Would ye mind going shopping with me to fill up my empty refrigerator?”

They meandered along the High Street keeping well away from places where friends could easily spot them. Neither wanted to be found by colleagues or acquaintances just yet. At least not until tomorrow. Holding hands, fingers linked together, they peered into store windows, carried on conversations about things of no great consequence. With the afternoon chill descending on them Jamie and Claire stopped for tea at his favorite tea room. The tearoom evoked the feeling of being in a grannie’s sitting room. It was a bit cluttered with an assortment of antique nick-nacks  on display, lace tablecloths covering the tables, and a small bouquet of flowers on the table. In truth, it was cozy and utterly charming. The tea warm and fragrant was served in delicate rose-patterned china cups and a variety of sweets and pastries graced the table. They found a table by the window where they could observe the passers-by. Heads bent in whispered conversation, soft giggles uttered, they sipped and nibbled as hands connected unable to bear lack of contact. 

The afternoon sky began to lower threatening a change in the weather. Jamie brought Claire’s hand to his lips leaving a tender kiss on her palm. “We need to leave Sassenach before we get caught in the snow.

Claire hummed in agreement. “Yes, you’re right. Let’s go buy something for dinner and go home.”

He was startled by her answer. Was she considering his place as her home already? He rather hoped that she would.

They went to the nearest market to stock up for a while.  Claire regaled Jamie about the different cuisines she tried while traveling with Lamb. 

“Did you know that guinea pig is considered a delicacy in parts of South America? I never tried it myself but Lamb did. He had to or risk offending the Headman of the village.”

He marveled at the things she told him. Her life experiences were so different from his own. 

“Ye mean the wee animals that live in cages and run on a wheel?” He grimaced at the thought.

“That’s a hamster. Guinea pigs shouldn’t use a wheel. Bad for the back, you know.”

He made what Claire referred to as a Scottish noise in the back of his throat. “I dinna ken ye knew sae much about the wee beasties.”

“As a child, I was like a sponge sucking up knowledge from my experiences with Lamb. It was an unorthodox lifestyle for a child but I wouldn’t have changed it for the world.”

He watched her as she stood amongst the display of produce, her index finger tapping her lower lip as she concentrated on what to choose. She examined everything for freshness, ripeness, color, texture before choosing. He was enchanted by her. She truly was a Sassenach, an Outlander. Claire did not belong to England nor Scotland nor America nor anywhere in particular. Having had such a unique upbringing, she was a woman belonging to the world. She belonged to nothing and yet to everything. It was this otherness about her that intrigued him, made him desperately want her to belong only to him. 

Making short work of gathering their staples and perishables, they made it back to Jamie’s flat before the storm broke. The wind whipped up around them blowing Claire’s hair into wild disarray. Laughing they stumbled through the door almost collapsing on each other. The door slammed shut from the force of the wind.

They placed their bundles on the kitchen island unpacking their delectables. Jamie gave Claire a sidelong look. Clearing his throat and keeping his eyes averted he said in a nonchalant voice, “Sassenach I, er, um, I made some room for ye this morning in the bathroom for yer personal things. I, ah, also made room for ye in the chest of drawers and in the closet should ye wish tae put your things in there. Maybe ye might want tae leave some of yer things here. But only if ye wish tae.” The tips of his ears turned pink, he worried that this might be too fast, too soon to suggest such a thing.

Claire looked up at him her bottom lip quivering.  “You did that for me? I…” She placed both her hands on his cheeks bringing him closer to her. She leaned in kissing him soundly on the lips. Turning away quickly from him before the tears could escape the dam, she ran toward the bedroom to see what he had done for her. 

Jamie smiled contentedly as he watched her scurry away. While she was occupied with unpacking her things, Jamie made a phone call he hoped would also please her. He continued to put away their purchases and set the table for their dinner. Hopefully, Aldo would not disappoint.

Claire busied herself with putting away some of her things. Jamie making room for her spoke volumes to her. He was trying to make her comfortable in his home. He wanted her there. As she placed her hairbrush, shampoo, and other toiletries in the en-suite she developed a warm feeling of belonging that she had never before experienced, not even in her own home with Frank. She wondered if this is what home felt like.

Having completed arranging her things, Claire came out to find the dining area glowing with the soft light from dinner candles, the table set, and dinner served. Jamie escorted her to the table, giving her a slight bow, “My lady,” seating her then taking his place opposite her.

“How did you, when did you…”

“I did promise you dinner. I dinna say I would make it myself,” as he waved his injured hand about. “I have a friend Aldo who owns an Italian restaurant close by. He sometimes sends dinner if I have a long day.” 

“This is excellent, Jamie. How do you know Aldo?”

“He is a footie mate and a damn good goalie too.”

After finishing dinner and wine, Claire offered to clean up. “You went through all this trouble it’s the least I can do,” she smirked. 

“Nay, Sassenach. ‘‘Twas my treat. Why dinna you get comfortable? It’s been a long couple of days.”

Standing she stretched until she heard little popping sounds between her vertebrae, “Perhaps you’re right. I think a shower is in order. Will you be coming soon?”

“Aye, I will. Just as soon as I put the dishes in the dishwasher and the leftovers away.”

Claire undressed taking her robe with her into the bathroom. She decided to ask Jaime for his tee-shirt again to wear to sleep. Having something of his next to her skin was a balm to her soul. She shampooed her hair then washed with her favorite body wash. Looking in the mirror she thought her hair resembled a wet poodle. With a towel wrapped around her head, she walked into the bedroom to find Jamie shirtless and shoeless only his jeans remained.

He smiled broadly at her, “A quick shower, then tae bed.” The heat of the water felt comforting. But he had no time to linger as his thoughts gravitated toward his lass. He wanted to, well he knew what he wanted to do, but would she? They were both jet-lagged, but just maybe.” He dried off and wrapped a low hanging towel about his hips. Opening the bathroom door, he stood there watching her as she tried to brush out several recalcitrant knots out of her curly hair. He could hear her mutterings and swearing. “Bloody-minded hair.” A particular mutinous snag gave rise to a blasphemous “Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ!”

“Here Sassenach, let me,” Jamie coaxed the brush from her hand. “When I was a young lad, I would brush my Mam’s hair for her when she felt troubled. She said it helped her tae relax.”

He sectioned her hair gently then began brushing it, working the tangles out. He worked slowly, carefully working each snarl out all while whispering softly in Gaidhlig. 

There was something supremely peaceful in Jamie’s touch. Claire slipped into an almost hypnotic state. She relaxed under his skilled hand and the susurrous of the brush skimming through her hair. Her eyes closed enjoying his surgeon-like expertise. Methodical, proficient, and meticulous. Just like he approached everything. No wonder his mother liked him to brush her hair.

He was totally focused on the task at hand making the unruly mass of curls into soft waves and tender ringlets. One would have thought that her hair would feel coarse and rough. But no, her hair was soft and lush. He brought a lock of her hair to his nose. It smelled of herbs and flowers soft and fragrant. It smelled of her. Jamie paid great attention to the colors of her tresses. Predominantly it was brunette with wisps of caramel, cinnamon, and auburn scattered throughout. Jamie let the strands slip over his fingers like silken threads to once again cascade over her shoulders. “Mo nighean donn,” he whispered. 

Claire turned her head to him. “You have called me that before but I never asked what it means.”

He smiled, “It means my brown-haired lass.”

“I have always thought brown to be a rather dull color.”

Jamie placed an errant curl behind her ear, “No, no’ dull at all. It’s like the water in a burn, where it ruffles over the stones. Dark in the wavy spots with bits of silver and auburn where the sun catches it.”

He put the brush down on the bedside table, turned to face her. He lifted her chin up and gazed into her eyes. Her eyes were pools of liquid honey warm and sweet.

Claire fell into the depth of his eyes, so impossibly blue that it seemed that part of the sky fell into them.

“Jamie…”

“Dance with me, Claire.”

She looked at him in surprise and question. 

“You mean here, now, like this?” Her eyes took in their mutual state of undress. 

“Besides, there is no music and truthfully I can’t dance.

“‘Tis nay bother. Music ye shall have. I’ll tell ye a secret, I canna dance too. I’m tae big and clumsy. Dinna be afraid ‘tis no’ but a bit of swaying. I think we can manage that without damaging each other.” Jamie extended his hand for her to take with a smile so brilliant it rivaled the summer sun.

She knew she should have resisted and said no.  But Claire found herself powerless, mesmerized by him. She reached out her hands clasping theirs together. He pulled her toward him. Their bodies touching. 

“First, ye need to take this off.” He began tugging at the ties of her robe. “I need tae feel ye next tae me.” 

Her hands entwined with his as they worked to release the tie allowing the satiny fabric to slip off her body. Standing there naked she felt just a bit foolish. 

“Now your turn.”

Giving the towel a quick tug, it fell away landing on the floor. He kicked the towel and robe out of the way, widening their area to move.

They were bare to each other. His arousal full and complete.

Once again he drew her into him, his large hands settling on her hips, while Claire’s hands rested around his neck.

“Alexa,” Jamie called out, “Play With You I’m Born Again on repeat.”

The room filled with sultry vocals and seductive notes from the piano.

Jamie pulled her deeper into his embrace feeling the fullness of her breasts against him, her nipples hardening from contact with his chest. His rigid cock pressed firmly upon her belly.

Their bodies moved in sync to the music swaying together like flowers in the wind. His sound hand floated over her back holding her close, reducing whatever little space still separated them.

Tucking her head neatly under his chin, Claire’s eyes drifted shut, sighing in contentment. He was warm and had a masculine smell rather spicy she thought. Pepper, ginger, lemon, and coriander. Overlaying that was his own unique scent which could not be masked. She nuzzled into his chest breathing him in making small wuffling sounds. 

“Are ye smelling me, Sassenach?”

She looked up at him with a dreamy look on her face, “Why yes. Yes, I am,” and returned to resting her head against him.

Jamie gave a soft chuckle and placed his head atop hers.

He crooned softly into her hair,

Come bring me yer softness

Comfort me through all this madness 

Woman, don’t ye know with ye I’m born again?

Looking up into the face of her love, Claire sang softly back,

Come give me your sweetness 

Now there’s you, there is no weakness

Lying safe within your arms, I’m born again. 

They joined together in a duet singing softly of their love for each other,

I was half not whole, in step with none

Reaching through the world, in need of one.

Come show me your kindness 

In your arms I know I’ll find this.

Lying safe within your arms, I’m born again.

Jamie bent down kissing Claire tenderly on her lips,

Woman don’t ye know with ye I’m born again

A single tear ran down her face,

Lying safe within your arms I’m born again.

Jamie bade Alexa stop the music. They came to a standstill, eyes locked on each other.

“I am naught but a poor simple man. I dinna have the words of a poet. Nor can I write ye a love song. This I tell ye true mo ghràdh, I love ye. I love ye more than I have ever loved nay will ever love someone. Ye have captured my heart.” He began to tremble in her arms and stumbled over his words. “I dinna ken what a soul is other than what the priests told us in kirk. But, I kent mine was only half until I found you. When I met ye, I felt mine call out to yers for I kent we share but one soul and one heart my Sassenach. Neither of us is complete without the other.”

Claire looked up into his face seeing the truth of his words.

“I feel the same way, Jamie. I do love you so.”

A tidal wave of lust coursed through him. His pupils were blown wide open turning the placid blue eyes dark and dangerous. He dropped his face toward hers, their lips just a whisper away. Jamie kissed her with a fierceness, no perhaps it was with desperation trying to convey his feelings with actions instead of his paltry words. 

Claire felt the heat rising up in her belly spreading through her like the warmth from a dram of good whisky. She parted her lips in invitation. His tongue ran over her lips then invading her mouth tasting its deep recesses as they joined in mutual caresses. 

Jamie broke the kiss. His breathing became heavy with want. “I need ye lass. I canna say it plainer than that.”

Claire’s eyes of toffee gazed up at him begging him to touch her everywhere. “Then take me, now.”

“I dinna ken if I can be gentle.”

“Then don’t.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck, fingers playing with the curls at the nape of his neck.

“Come lass let me love ye. ‘Tis been too long since I last held ye in my arms.”  He lifted her up and carried her to the bed, gently placing her down. Her hair spread over the pillow like a great nimbus cloud of light and dark. She opened herself to him with her arms raised up in supplication. She never looked lovelier than she did when flushed with desire.  “Ye are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.” 

“As you say so.”

“Do ye doubt me?”

“No, what I mean is I am beautiful because you say it is so.”

“Aye, ‘tis so.”

He came to her like a starving man hungrily seizing her mouth. It would be her body and soul that would sustain him, nourish him, make him whole again. He had feared he had lost her in Boston because of his own negligence. And yet she forgave him, still wanted him. He needed to claim her as his.

“Mine,” he growled into her mouth. “Mine now and forever.”

“Yours, only you,” she sighed. 

His kisses were hard, brutal leaving her lips swollen from the attention. She kissed him back with equal fervor pulling at his bottom lip biting down on it. Her own need to join with him raged through her like wildfire. She had almost lost him through her foolish fears, her foolish secrets.

Jamie began to rain kisses down the column of her neck. Kissing, nipping at the tender skin marking her as his. 

“Jamie!” she cried as she raked her nails down his back raising red welts over the old scar tissue. He felt the sting of the scratches but couldn’t have cared less.

He moved down her body placing fevered kisses as he moved. Reaching her breasts, he took a delicate nipple in his mouth tongue circling it raising it to a hardened nub. He suckled it while kneading the other. Turning his attention to its fellow, it received the same treatment. 

 Claire arched her back and held his head in place to her breast. “Harder,” she ordered. With a ferocity, he did not know he possessed he sucked harder and bit down on her nipple. She cried out in pleasure and pain.

“Christ, I hurt ye. I’m sorry, Claire,” he worried.

“No, you didn’t hurt me. Don’t stop, please.”

“Yer sure, Claire?”

Yes, I’m sure, damn it. Please, Jamie. Don’t stop.”

He gently kissed each breast in apology before taking his leave. Journeying down her he nipped at the delicate skin placing soothing kisses at each bruise. Reaching her hip he placed tender kisses to each one. 

“Jamie…please.”

“Please what, Claire?”

She huffed in frustration, “I need you, now.”

“Ye have me lass, I’m right here am I no’? Adoring ye, loving ye,” as he placed kiss after kiss along her stately legs. When he reached her feet, he massaged each foot working the tension out.

“Do ye like this a nighean?”

“Yes,” she purred deep and throaty as she arched her back in contented pleasure.

Jamie chuckled with delight, “I see. And what would ye do if I did this?”

He slid off of the bed pulling her by her ankles until her arse rested at the edge. Hitching her legs over his shoulders, he placed his face firmly between her thighs. 

“Christ, mo leannan, yer so wet. 

Claire moaned her head tossing from side to side writhing in anticipation. 

Delicately he ran his tongue over her apex tasting her, “Yer so sweet.” He found her nub the source of all her pleasure lightly flicking his tongue over it. 

Claire moaned and whimpered, thrusting her hips toward him.

“More, mo chridhe?” 

“Yes, yes Jamie. I want more,” she gasped out as she ground herself against his face.

Greedily his mouth took possession of her bud, sucking, licking in long broad stripes and gentle circles driving her to the edge of madness. Carefully he began to drag his teeth over the sensitive tissue and began to hum. Relentlessly his tongue dipped and swirled tasting her heat and her honey.

The sensations electrified her senses. Her body jerking, thrashing clutching at the linens. 

“Ah, Jamie, please, please,” she gasped. Her hand grabbed at his head, fingers tangled in his curls holding him captive to her need.

He knew she was nearing her climax. Slipping one finger into her sweet heat sliding in and 

“Tell me, Claire, how ye feel,” he growled wickedly. 

Her eyes were sealed shut and she mumbled unintelligible words as she continued to writhe on the bed. 

“Open yer eyes lass look at me. Watch as I make ye come. Know who yer master is.” 

His eyes were trained on her, intently watching. Adding a second finger he curved them both finding the sensitive area inside her. His tongue resumed its onslaught as he pushed her over the precipice.

Claire’s eyes opened wide, seeing but not seeing and screamed, “JAIME!” Her world narrowed until she became pure sensation, pure pleasure.

“Aye, ‘tis right lass. Scream my name so all will ken who ye belong tae. LOUDER,” he commanded.

She keened, back arched, head falling back against the bed, “Jamie, only you Jamie.” And convulsed into her orgasm.

He picked her up cradling her against his broad chest bringing back to the bed resting her head upon the pillows. He murmured soft words in Gàidhlig into the glory of her hair. “Rest a neighan. For I will need tae take ye soon. I am filled with savage lust that I canna control. I need tae feel ye around me for I mean to use ye hard. Forgive me, my Sassenach.”  He spooned into her back and pressed his nose into the crook of her neck. His manhood hardened with wanting resting on her thigh. 

 Claire smiled turning to face him as she cupped his face between her hands. Her voice hoarse and no more than a whisper, “I want to feel you too. I need to claim you as my own and hear you call my name in desire. And at the end, I want to hear you cry out as you find your pleasure knowing that it was I who took you there. She kissed him at his pulse point on the neck, then boldly bit and sucked the skin leaving a mark. “You are mine Jamie Fraser, now and forever. I have marked you for all to see.” Her eyes burned bright with an untamed yearning for this man. She dragged her lips across his face and down his neck leaving searing kisses along the path. Coming to his well-defined chest she bit hard again leaving the stamp of her lust on him. 

“Do you want me to stop?”

“God no.”

Her tongue swept over his areola and his delicate pink nipple causing it to harden at her bidding. Again she sank her teeth into his flesh causing him to gasp from her assault on him.

“Am I too rough on you,” she whispered sensually in his ear while she rubbed her breasts across his chest making her buds become firm ready for him to suck. 

“Yer a she-devil come to torture me,” he moaned raising his hand trying to grasp at her breasts. 

Claire threw her head back laughing. “Aye, I am. A succubus surely and I will lead us to the fiery pits of hell where we will be consumed by our lust for each other.”

She continued to scatter kisses and bites as she moved down his magnificent body. She sucked the skin over his hip, then dragged her nails through his fiery thatch the last barrier before his cock. 

Jamie jolted at the sensation. “Sassenach, please. I canna bear it nay longer.”

“Please, wot?” Claire asked innocently. 

“Claire, ye ken what I want and need. Please, Claire.” 

“Are you talking about this? She leaned over and took him in her mouth. She unfurled her tongue over his length. She took in his whole length working her tongue over the silkiness of his cock. Using her brazen wee hand she slid it up and down his length twisting and turning all while she worked the head with her mouth and tongue diving him to near completion. 

“Lass, I’ll no last if ye keeping doing that.”

Claire ceasing her assault on his flesh giving him a sultry smile, “We can’t have that now can we.”

She sat back on her heels taking in the landscape of his body. He was beautifully formed with slanted eyes, long straight nose, high broad cheekbones, and full, sensuous lips.  The terrain of his body was formed by mountains of hard muscle and bone lying above the flat plains of his abdominal muscles. The man was a work of art, one of God’s finest creations.

Claire was broken out of her reverie as she became cognizant that Jamie was speaking to her. Actually, he was threatening her. 

“By all that is holy, Sassenach, ye shall pay for this, severely.” 

She laughed, “I believe that I have already, my lad. You had your way with me now it’s my turn.”

She lifted her leg to straddle him, brushing her wet sex over his engorged erection. “Or perhaps this is more to your liking, hmm? Which mouth do you want my lad?”

Shuddering from the sensation, he tried to will himself into control. 

“Claire…” He warned.

She leaned over, drawing herself at length atop him grinding her hips against his. “Yes, Jamie?” She asked innocently.

“Ye are a verra verra wicked woman. And ye deserve tae be punished.”

Slowly his hand found its way down her back grabbing her magnificent arse fondling it pressing her close to him. 

“Oh, and just how do you plan to do that?”

His hands clutched her hips moving them in lewd movements creating friction between them. 

Raising up his hand Jamie gave Claire a slight slap on her buttock causing more of a sting than pain. 

She wiggled her luscious bum in delight and giggled. “Is that my punishment, Fraser? I rather liked it,” she smirked.

“Then perhaps ye will like this.” Jamie seized Claire’s hands holding them above her head and flipped them over. Quirking his eyebrow, he pressed his arousal against her. “Ye like this Sassenach?”  

She opened her legs wider then flexed her hips hard against him. 

“Do. It. Now,” she demanded. Her voice rough and harsh. 

Jamie lined himself up at her wet entrance and slowly pushed in perhaps no more than a quarter-inch and quickly withdrew. Claire gasped at the sudden loss of him. 

“Exactly what game are you playing at Fraser?” She huffed in frustration. Wiggling under him Claire tried to re-establish physical contact, needing the feel of him. But he kept his distance from her. 

“Ye kent I told ye that ye needed tae be punished, did I no’? The best way is tae deprive ye of what ye want. But if ye yield tae me, ye can have it. What say ye?” He replied smugly. He inched closer, letting her feel him again at her entrance. 

“You’re on some fucking power trip, Jamie,” she huffed. Her efforts to join with him were fruitless as he kept her pinned to the mattress with his body. 

“Aye, I am. Ye remember I told ye I would make ye scream, did I no’? And I did. Now ye tortured me to near insanity and wouldna come to me. That was no’ nice of ye, Claire. So now Dr. Beauchamp ye get a wee taste of yer own medicine. Ye dinna like it do ye?”

“No.”

“Resign yerself tae me then, beg me, and ye shall have what ye want.” Thrusting his hips forward he was mere centimeters from home. He placed soft kisses on the corners of her lips, lightly running his tongue along the seam of her mouth.

Claire struggled a few times more, just for form’s sake. 

She used her whisky orbs to do her pleading. “Jamie, please, I...I...need you. I want you now. I need to feel you inside of me.”

“That’s a good lass. But, remember, mo ghràdh I never said I dinna like yer teasing, ye ken.” And he drove home sheathing himself to the hilt in one swift thrust.

“YOU son of a…AHHH!”

His hips moved within her drawing comfort from her softness getting lost in her silken folds.

She felt herself stretch as he filled her and reveled in the power of him. 

He put her hands on his chest, “Feel my heartbeat, Claire, it only beats for ye.”

His mouth sealed over hers, taking possession of her breath, her sighs, swallowing them making them part of his being.

Absorbed in the feel of him, Claire wrapped her legs around him pulling him deeper, deeper than either one thought was possible.

A burning tension built linking their hearts, souls, and bodies together. “Jamie,” she mumbled. “My lad, my sweet, sweet lad. How I need you. Oh god, Jamie.” Her body began to tremble and shake. “I…”

Jamie whispered softly in her ear, “Let it go, Claire surrender yourself tae me. Give me all of yourself as I give you everything I am. I can hold nothing back from ye lass.”

“Jaime. Oh god, Jamie.” Claire wrapped her arms around him succumbing to her all-consuming climax.

Jamie continued his relentless rhythm now that he had served her and began to seek his own pleasure. 

Two, then three, then four thrusts, his hips moved wildly his cadence began to falter.

“Claire, sweet Jesus, Claire.” Shuddering, he bit down on her shoulder as his seed filled her.

Jamie collapsed on her then fell to the side avoiding crushing her. Pulling her to him he tucked her under his chin.  Claire felt the thrum of his voice in his chest speaking Gàidhlig words of love to her. She did not understand the words but knew their meaning.  Her arms surrounded his waist still not yet ready to release their connection. 

“I love you, Jamie,” she whispered as she succumbed to the world of dreams.

“Tha gaol agam ort, mo ghràdh.”

Lying safe within our arms, we are born again.

*********************

Capote de brega  — a cape used by a matador during a bull fight.

A fear an urram - A man of honor.

Duine urramach - An honorable man

With You, I Am Born Again - sung by Billy Preston and Syreeta Wright

Songwriters - Carol Connors/David Shire/David L. Shire

Released - December 1979

Motown Records

Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oqTq8gckf8E

[commandercatra]

Color Me Impressed (Catra x Reader)

Requested By: Me

Extra:

Horde Reader

Soulmate AU: The world is colorless until you see your soulmate’s eyes for the first time

How do you find your soulmate? Interesting question, really. Is it the fate that connects us, unseeable and unpredictable, that guides us in the right direction? Is it a pull so strong that it rivals relationships forged from love or fragile like the fights that strain them? Could it be something more obvious, something that was always there, or was it a question that was never meant to be answered?

Well, THAT was a stupid thought. Finding your soulmate was the last thing you should be doing in the midst of war. What would your former Force Captain have said?  Slacking on the job again, (Y/N)? Twenty laps around the simulation room, GO! Man, you wouldn’t miss her one bit.

It wasn’t like it was entirely your fault though. Your former squad members had all discovered their soulmates at some point, leaving you in the dust. If your soulmate hadn’t been at your base to begin with, chances were that you’d never find them. No matter how many places you traveled, no one became your world. Everything was the same dreary blend of dark grays, whites, and blacks. Meeting your destined love was supposed to paint the world in ways that were unexplainable to those who hadn’t experienced it yet. The world was colorless and always would be.

You sighed, kicking your feet up on the Skip that was traveling ever closer to your new home, your new base. You were lucky you had been chosen to go, hearing this base also served as Hordak’s command center. Speaking of which, it was coming into view now. You saluted the soldier who had been tasked with your transportation, jumping off with the small bag of belongings you had and strolling up to the doors. They were strangely deserted, shouldn’t there have been a guard posted?

“You must be (Y/N).” The words startled you enough to whip around, getting into a position to defend yourself. Behind you was an almost wisp like entity. Regal robes spoke of their position of power, a mask covering their face with a single gem on it. Shadow Weaver, the commander of this base. You were about to apologize, but the mysterious woman cut you off, the black around her eyes narrowing. “You dare raise your hands against a superior? Consider yourself lucky this is only temporary. Once Adora is back I expect you to be out of here immediately.” 

Okay then. You’re pretty sure the notice you received from Hordak was that this movement was permanent, but who were you to argue with your superior? She could find out on her own when this “Adora” person had no place on the squad. Nonetheless, you flashed her a respectful smile, dipping your head which allowed your eye roll to go unnoticed. “I apologize, Shadow Weaver.”

Or so you thought it went unnoticed. “I saw that.” Shadow Weaver sneered. Although you couldn’t see her eyes behind the mask, they were most likely blazing at your insolence. “I expect you ready and by the simulation room in ten minutes for training. Do not be late.” And with that she disappeared in a flurry of shadows. 

...

Ten minutes had turned into at least twenty by the time you found the training room. She didn’t even give you directions to the base! You had to have ended up at the holding cells at least twice from all the new twists and turns. A spiky blue inspector looked up as you entered. His eyes lacked pupils, and he had two vests in his grasp. So, you weren’t the only one late to training, weird. “The others are already inside.” He said gruffly, shoving the vest into your hands and allowing you to suit up before racing into the room.

It was covered in trees, an uncomfortable silence stretching over you before the sound of a laser in the distance prompted you further. It didn’t take you long to stumble upon a large drone, flat and on spider like legs that towered at least ten feet in the air. It was struck by a reptilian looking creature, turning its laser onto him and firing wildly. You took those few precious seconds to snatch the staff beside a blonde casualty. His vest was marked with an X, a single eye open and observing you. “See something you like?” His freckled face grew red with embarrassment, eyes snapping shut as you laughed. 

You took the next few moments to charge the drone, whacking one of its back legs with the spear crackling with electrical energy. On the leg parallel to yours was another person. Their dreadlocks swayed by how hard they swung into the drone, causing it to stumble. “You the new soldier?” She questioned, earning herself a confirming hum from you. “Cool, the name’s Lonnie. Kyle is dead and Rogelio is the lizard. Guess you’ll meet Catra later.” She spoke casually while practically dismantling the leg of the drone that was still being distracted by Rogelio, adding the last name mockingly.

“Sweet, I’m (Y/N).” You answered, making your way under the drone while it was off balance. You could feel eyes on you, probably that Kyle kid again. With a cry you drove the sparking staff into the drone’s underside, pressing harder and deeper as it began to short circuit. It only took a few moments for the crackling electricity of the staff and hole that had formed in the drone’s abdomen to cause a small scale explosion. Lonnie had blocked the leg that had flown her way while Rogelio scooped up Kyle and jumped backwards. And where did that leave you? Smack dab in the middle of the explosion. Good going, (Y/N).

The force of the explosion had luckily propelled you out from under the drone before it collapsed, but it didn’t leave you completely unscathed. You sat up with a wince, slight burn marks and forming bruises causing your body to ache. You would have to try a weapon that didn’t use electricity for moves like that in the future. You could hear Lonnie and Kyle congratulating you while you got your bearings together, only to see a pair of clawed feet come into your vision instead. You looked up at the newcomer and froze.

She was feline like, large cat-like ears sprouting from a wild mane of hair. Her arms were striped and clothes torn, as if the claws she sported on her hands and feet were anything but a fashion statement. A tail swayed lazily behind her while she held out a hand to help you up. It wasn’t all these attributes that shocked you though, it was her eyes. Two colors you had never seen before stared back as her fanged grin only widened. Blue. Your mind whispered the colors, the new information flowing into you on instinct. Yellow.

Two drastically different colors, and yet they were beautiful to you. People had said the first color you saw was the eyes, but who else was lucky enough to see two colors right off the bat? She took your breath away. You didn’t even realize the tender embrace your hand was now in, pulling you up from your seated position. “Color me impressed, soldier.” She purred, the choice of words only making sense to the two of you in that moment. 

You could see colors beginning to fill your world, first spreading to Catra fully, revealing her red clothing theme and dark hair. Red. From there the color spread across the ground in a slow wave. Green. Orange. Purple. You faintly registered each color, but you weren’t focused on that. You were instead still looking to your soulmate, awestruck by her appearance. “What’s wrong, Kitten? Catra got your tongue?” She teased, lacing her fingers lightly with yours. Catra, that was the name Lonnie used. So that was your soulmate’s name.

“N-not yet, Catra.” You tried to snap back playfully, but the surprise of the situation had left you stumbling over your words. The feline girl cupped your cheeks, rubbing along them softly with her thumb. You leaned your hand into the touch immediately, earning a laugh from her. She pulled you closer to her side, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. Her tail, on the other hand, had snuggly wrapped itself around your waist. 

“Come on, (Y/N).” Catra whispered, beginning to walk you from the simulation room. The sound of your name despite never having told her alerted you that she was the one who was watching you during the battle. She had seen how quickly you defeated the drone, even though you ended up hurt in the end. She lead you towards an infirmary, but instead of sending you in the arm around you only hugged you closer. “I will be treating her myself, understand? Just give me what I need.”

The workers didn’t seem to have any issue with this. You weren’t hurt too badly so it wouldn’t affect your health. Besides, they seemed to have an almost knowing look. It was common for new soulmates to be possessive of each other. You had to admit, you didn’t want to see Catra touching anyone else for that matter. She took the supplies, leading you back to the barracks where your stuff laid. She sat you on the bed, taking the seat beside you and pulling some soft wipes to gently bring over your burns, soothing them.

You let yourself get comfortable in her arms, the feline girl able to work despite the odd positioning. “You know,” Catra began to speak as she started to finish up, satisfied by how the care had went. “I was beginning to think I didn’t have a soulmate.” The words mirrored your own fear perfectly. You looked up at her despite your head laying against her chest and frowned. Her ears had fallen backwards, those unique heterochromic eyes avoiding staring into your own (E/C) gaze. 

You sat up slightly, turning in Catra’s arms to cup her cheeks the same way that she had done to you in the simulation room. You rubbed them softly, earning yourself a purr of approval. “I was scared of that too.” You admitted, figuring it was a touchy subject for her to speak so vulnerable. She was so confident and leader like otherwise. “But honestly? I believe you were worth the wait. Finally speaking to you, it’s everything I could have dreamt and more.” 

The purrs rose in volume, so strong now that her chest seemed to shake under the force. She pulled you more securely into her arms, her tail stretching up to brush against you lovingly. She nestled her face into your hair, her claws lightly digging into your clothes as she curled around you. The two of you decided to skip out on the rest of training, opting instead to make up for time that you hadn’t known each other. A gentle kiss on your forehead was the last thing you felt before you fell asleep in the embrace of your soulmate, Catra.

So, how do you find your soulmate? That’s easy. You’ll feel it in your heart, even if they don’t notice at first. The colors of their eyes will open new worlds for you, and you will do the same for them. Their touch will feel like safety, their words glue that hold you together. But most of all, their presence will be the one thing you can turn to in these dark times of war. It’s love.

- Catra

[kalinkaooc]

Issues 2-4 rewrite part 1

I think I’m going to spread out the fights out a bit more since I’m not constrained by cramming everything into 4 issues. Also since I’m adapting it to fit Powered Up. Speaking of Powered Up I wanted to add dialog from that game for every Robot Master but none of Bomb Man’s lines seemed to fit so I made up my own. Guts Man was easier and I even put in his digging move from PU. I also decided to go with the PU continuations that the RMs are fighting Rock because they think he’s the bad guy, it seemed to fit our interpretation of how reprogramming works.

Rock teleported to the middle of the city and looked around. He then pressed a button in his helmet to turn on his communicator.

“The teleporter worked, I’m already downtown, but it looks like the others have already left.”

“Ok, it shouldn’t be too hard to find out where they went. Find them before they do any more damage.”

“Got it.”

Rock turned off his communicator and looked around to see if he could find where his brothers might have gone.

“Oh man. Another one!”

“Shh, it hasn’t seen us yet.”

“Huh?” Rock turned around to see two armored soldiers hiding behind a car. “Oh hi.”

“Ahh!”

The two men stumbled back and one of them raised their gun at him.

“Whoa hey it’s ok I’m not going to hurt you. I’m here to help.”

The soldiers looked shocked but the one with the gun did lower his weapon.

“Do you guys know where the other robots went? I need to find them so I can stop them.”

The soldiers looked at each other and shrugged.

“Uh they all went off in different directions.”

“The one with the explosives is probably the most dangerous, he went that way.”

The soldier pointed down one street and Rock nodded.

“Thanks.” He waved to the two soldiers as he ran in the indicated direction. “Guess I’m doing Bomb Man first… ok I can do this.”

Suddenly several small robots, that looked kind of like fish, started to swarm around him.

“Ahh! Dad, a bunch of little robots are attacking me.”

“They look like the old flea model. They were failed crop protectors. Dr. Wily must have found an old supply and reactivated them. They’ll attack anything that comes into their designated protection zone.”

“So what do I do?”

“You’re going to have to clear a path for yourself. It’s alright these robots have no AI systems and are only acting on preprogramed movements.”

“Ok, if you say so.”

Rock let off a shot from his buster and it hit several of the flea at once, the others not even reacting to what had happened. Rock continued to run and blast away any of the small robots that got in his way. Then out of nowhere a blast, similar to his own, came down and he only barely managed to escape getting hit by it.

Rock looked up to see a green robot, with a singular red optic and a shield pointing a buster down at him.

“What is that?”

Dr. Light stared shocked at the screen for a moment before Rocks cries for help reached. “Sorry, that’s a Sniper-Joe, one of the military robots I made that I told you about. How did Wily get his hands on one?”

“Dad what do I do?”

“Hit it when its shield is down. Like the flea it’s only acting on preset attack patterns.”

“Ok.”

Rock jumped out of the way of another blast and let loose on the sniper. The shots hit and it was sent off line.

“Ok, I got passed the Sniper-Joe, now what?”

“I’ve found Bomb Man’s location in an unfinished evacuation bunker; the entrance should be close by.”

Rock looked around and saw a large metal door leading to something that could only be underground.

“Found it.”

“Good. Bomb Man should be in there. Good luck Rock.”

“Thanks.”

The metal doors opened and Rock jumped in. He landed in a large open room with the only thinks inside were Bomb Man and the bulldozer he was perched on.

“Bomb Man, it’s me, Rock!”

“Rock? Never thought I’d see you running through, guns a blazing. Guess the doc was right about you turning into a fighting robot.” A bomb appeared in his hand. “Don’t worry this should knock you back to your senses.”

He through the bomb down at Rock who jumped out of the way just in time to avoid the worst of the explosion. Reflexively he aimed his buster at Bomb Man and let off a shot. It made contact and sent him falling off the bulldozer. Bomb Man groaned as he got back to his feet and looked down at the scorch mark on his armor in a bit of dazed shock. A dark expression then crossed his features.

“I didn’t want to have to do this but looks like you’re not leaving me with any choice.”

He jumped into the air and rained more bombs down on Rock. Rock ran to dodge them but he couldn’t escape all of them and one explosion sent him sprawling across the floor.

“Rock, I know you don’t want to hurt him, but Bomb Man won’t stop until you make him.”

Rock grit his teeth and stood back up.

“I know.” He raised his buster at Bomb Man. “I’m sorry.” He let off another blast that hit Bomb Man squarely in the chest.

He fell back and Rock let off another few shots at him. Bomb Man’s optics widened in fear and he raised his arm in an attempt to shield himself, but it wasn’t enough and he was sent offline as the shot hit.

Tears formed in Rock’s eyes as he walked over to his fallen brother.

“It’s ok Rock. I’ll be able to fix him when this is all over. But now that he’s down you can interface with him and copy his weapon. All you have to do is touch him.”

“Ok.”

Rock knelt down and placed his hand on Bomb Man’s gauntlet.

“Good, looks like the copy chip is working.

“So does that mean I can make bombs too now?”

“Yes, but you’ll have to shut off your Mega Buster to do so. Your systems can only support one weapon at a time.”

“That’s fine with me. I don’t really know what I’d do with two weapons at once.”

“Are you ready to move on to the next one?”

“Yeah I’m ready.” Rock looked to Bomb Man one more time. “I’ll come back for you.”

In a beam of blue light he was gone.

-

The beam brought Rock to a large open quarry with metal beams and pipes everywhere.

“I’ve sent you as close to Guts Man as I can. I’m not able to pinpoint his location but he’s somewhere in the quarry. Be careful, if getting to Bomb Man was any indication, Guts Man is probably not the only robot around.”

“I know, I will be.”

Rock looked around; so far the quarry seemed quiet. He took a few steps and noticed what looked like a hard hat lying on the ground.

“Huh that must have belonged to a quarry worker.”

He took a step closer and suddenly the helmet moved to reveal a round black face with yellow boots underneath.

“Wha..?”

Several more of the same robots then appeared from behind rock mounds and flying drones flew down at him.

“It’s an ambush!”

Rock ran and dodged attacks from the robots around him and let off a few blasts to get rid of some that were getting too close. As he was running he saw a mine cavern blocked off by a large metal door with a Wily insignia on it.

“That must be where Guts Man is.”

He ran to the door and jumped through just as it opened. The door closed behind him, cutting off the other robots from following him.

“Hey Dad, I think I found where Guts Man is.”

“Alright be careful.”

Rock turned a corner and found Guts Man standing in a large cavern next to a pile of very large boulders.

“Hey, men only. Little boys don’t belong here. Go home before you get hurt.”

“Guts, it’s me, Rock.”

Guts Man narrowed his eyes. “Rock? Since when do you go around with armor and a gun?”

Rock quickly turned his buster back into a hand and raised both of them in a sign of peace.

“They’re just for protection. Those construction robots out there were really aggressive.” He smiled placatingly with his hands still up. ‘So far so good, Guts hasn’t even been that hostel. Maybe I’ll be able to talk him out of fighting.’

Guts Man didn’t move from his spot and continued to eye Rock suspiciously. His shoulders slumped and a look of resignation appeared on his face.

“You know when Wily said you’d been turned into a fighting robot I didn’t want to believe him. I couldn’t believe him, I knew you’d never hurt anyone.”

“Um… Guts Man what are you saying? Of course I wouldn’t hurt anyone, you know that.”

“Then I guess you showing up in full armor right after Bomb Man’s communication went down is just a very big coincidence.”

Rock’s optics went wide and Guts Man frowned.

“I’m sorry for this Rock.” Guts Man picked up one of the boulders from the pile next to him. “But you know I can’t let you get to the rest of our brothers.”

The boulder was launched right at Rock and he did not have time to get out of the way. It hit him square on and knocked him to the ground. If it wasn’t for his armor he’d probably have several error messages popping up from that hit. Even with his armor he was pretty dazed.

He got up just in time to see Guts Man jump into the air and aim a fist right for him. Rock just managed to jump back away from both the fist and the blast it caused. He turned his hand back into his buster and sent a few shots Guts Man’s way but unlike with Bomb they didn’t do quite as much damage. Eventually Rock was forced to take shelter behind one of the thrown boulders.

‘Oh man, oh man, oh man. Taking him down with the Mega Buster is going to take forever. I need something more powerful.’ Rock glanced down at his buster. ‘Like the hyper bomb!’

His buster and armor then changed as he switched his weapon. Taking a simulated breath he jumped out from behind the boulder and let loose a hyper bomb right at Guts Man’s feet.

Guts Man looked down at the bomb in confusion for just long enough for it to go off and send him flying. He slammed into the far wall of the cavern and slid down. He clutched at his chest and looked to Rock with a mix of horror and rage.

“Was that…?”

“Guts I’m sorry, please just stop fighting.”

“You expect me to just give up after finding out that you not only attacked my brother but stole his weapon too? Oh no. I’m not going to stop fighting until one of us stops moving.”

“I was afraid you’d say that.”

Guts Man started to charge at Rock and he sent another hyper bomb his way. This time Guts Man was able to not let it hit him point blank though it still caused some damage.

Guts Man grimaced at the impact then jumped in the air again, but this time instead of causing another earthquake he instead burrowed himself into the ground.

“What? Since when could he do that?”

Rock looked around frantically to try and find where Guts Man went but there was nothing to indicate where he would come up. That was until he felt the ground under him start to shake. Rock braced himself as he was sent into the air as Guts Man burst from the ground underneath him. However, instead of just taking the hit Rock twisted himself to aim one more hyper bomb to fall down on Guts Man as he landed out of range of the blast.

Guts Man stumbled back then fell to the ground, offline.

“Guess you were right about not stopping the fight until one of us stopped moving.” He went over to Guts Man and placed his hand on his gauntlet to copy his weapon as well.

Once that was over he made his way back out of the mine and noticed that all the construction robots that had been attacking him before had left. Seemed once Guts Man wasn’t able to send out the Robot Master command signal to them they had nothing to keep them there.  

Rock’s communicator then crackled to life and Dr. Light’s voice came through.

“Rock, are you there?”

“Yeah…”

“Thank goodness. The cavern walls were blocking the communicator signal from reaching you. I’ve located where Cut Man is…”

“Fine, let’s go.”

“Are you sure? Do you need to recharge first, or…?”

“No thank you. Let’s get this over with.”

[icomefromuranus74000-blog]

My Super long-ass headcanon for all types of gems on Homeworld and their roles:

#1- Talcs- Used as minor repair drones and janitors, but discontinued as Pearls and Flask Robonoids replaced them. Can turn their physical forms into talcum powder to fit into very tight spaces. The super-tiny setting on the Roaming Eye ship is for Talc gems. The heaven and earth beetles are corrupted Talcs.

#2- Ices- Also discontinued and extremely small, they were once used to explore cold planets but were too sensitive to heat to be reliable (Their gems could easily melt).

#3- Pearls- Personal servants for high-raking gems. Expensive due to only being produced by organic alien sea creatures.

#4- Pyrites- Simple factory workers who make and monitor machines that make all sorts of Homeworld equipment.

#5- Obsidians- Coming in two varieties, regular and snowflake, these are the blacksmiths of the Gempire. Bismuth was taught her Crystal Gem trade by her friend Snowflake.

#6- Sulphurs- With dumpy faces, short legs, huge bellies, and sloping shoulders giving way to arms that nearly touch the floor, Sulphurs are built like orangutans and unanimously considered to be the ugliest gems. Its even harder to make a case for them with their power being the ability to belch, fart, and emit nauseating stench clouds on a whim. They handle toxic chemicals and are the hazmat teams of Homeworld.

#7- Hematites- These gems make finishing touches to fully constructed buildings, and sometimes serve as decorators, if they’re lucky.

#8- Granites- Opposite to Hematites, these dull colored gems smash out clearings for new buildings to be created, and destroy derelict ones. Bismuth learned her hand-into-weapon skills from a Granite.

#9- Bismuths- They construct the actual buildings, the middlemen of the architect class.

#10- Rubies- Disposable grunts who can emit dangerous amounts of heat. Invented by Pink Diamond maybe?

#11- Peridots- Either all-around technicians of kindergarden monitors. Have latent ferrokinetic abilities.

#12- Topazes and Aquamarines- They will show up in the next Stevenbomb, so we’ll see then :)

#13- Quartzes- Huge, loyal soldiers.

#14- Agates- Different from regular quartzes, they act as drill sergeants for their silicon sisters.

#15- Cassiterites- Also known as tin oxide, these lithe, ninja-like gems can bend the light around their bodies to become completely invisible. They were spies during the rebellion but usually utilize their skills to sabotage the alien races Homeworld fights so their planets can be seized (i’m writing a fanfiction with one of these in it, she calls herself Cassi:)

#16- Calcites and Tektites- All aformentioned architect gems report to these. Calcite is the main component of all stones used for buildings, so it makes sense they would be the gems in charge of such a task. Tektites have Psammokinesis, the ability to control sand, and use this to teach their employees how a building should come together. The desert glass from the episode Lion was introduced is a harvested Tektite gem.

#17- Tourmalines- Kindergarden managers with the ability to suck massive amounts of air into their bodies and blow it out with extreme force. They use this to smooth out & erode rough kindergarden canyons into neat valleys while their subordinate Peridots man the injectors. The floating pufferfish from the episode where the Crystal Gems played volleyball with the Pizza family was a corrupted Watermelon Tourmaline.

#18- Beryls- While Agates are the drill sergeants, Beryls are the generals. Also presiding directly over Jades and Cassiterites, these gems are ½ the height of a Diamond and of similar build, cutting an imposing figure that makes even the most veteran Quartzes squirm.

#19- Jades- The pilots of the Gempire, for some reason they have corrosive saliva, possibly for self-defense. Centipeedle is a corrupted Nephrite Jade.

#20- Lapis Lazuli- A single Lazuli is put in charge of an entire planet for terraforming. They carve huge canyons into a planet’s crust so Peridots and Tourmalines can produce new gems. They also fly whole ocean’s worths of water in between planets and can travel between galaxies in a few MONTHS.

#21- Apatites- Like Sapphires, Apatites can see into a time other than the present, but for them it is the past. Upon walking into any room, they can track the paths of particles and where they have been to see exactly wat has occured there. Homeworld uses them as detectives.

#22- Fluorites- Also having Peridots as subordinates, these are the scientists of gemkind. The ones from Yellow Diamond’s court have produced things such as the Roaming Eye and Gem Destabalizer, while those of Blue Diamond have invented forced fusion, something initially used as an attempt to bring Pink Diamond back from the dead.

#23- Ulexites- Often nicknamed “TV Stone” by humans for their image magnifying properties, these translucent gems create video propaganda for the Diamonds.

#24- Howlites & Turquoises- Communication officers, who during and pre-rebellion operated wailing stones to relay messages.

#25- Spodumenes- data archivers for Spinels, who don’t have Pearls to do it for them. Digital librarians, if you will.

#26- Spinels- Scholars and advisors, who are a little smaller than Beryls and with a similar build. Often working with Fluorites to learn new things.

#27- Sapphires- Oracles who advise their Diamonds directly. They have one eye, are​ extremely small, and have cryokinetic powers for some unknown reason.

#28- Zircons- Second only to the Diamonds themselves, they are almost as big and beautiful. Zircons serve as proxies for their respective Diamond, who each have only two or three to help manage their planets.

#29- Diamonds- The supreme overlords of the Gempire, with White Diamond being the absolute sovereign. Their ultimate goal is to expand as much as possible until they have engulfed the entire universe.

#30- Rose Quartzes- Along with the usual Quartz role, Roses operated as medics for injured humans in the human zoo. They also repaired and helped grow vegetation for them, and looked more human than any other gem so as not to invoke fear of the unknown. After Rose rebelled and they were bubbled the plants in the human zoo were made soft and fake so no injuries could be had and they needn’t be replaced.

Anyone is free to use the above gems in a fanfic or other creative work (except for Cassi. Back off fuckers, she's mine!),that’s what its here for. Hope it wasn’t too long, and thanks for reading.

[attemptingtobeom]

Train 23/3

Today I was inspired by a variety of different things.

I met two Italian men in my hostel, first a man that spoke of his experiences in the past, making youtube videos and raps with his childhood friends, of whom have become big producers in Italy. Nearing 30, and having dreams to eventually make his way to New York in pursuit of a film career, his avid sense of self confidence and lack of caring for what others thought of him was completely international and allowed me to see things from an external perspective. His ability to conceptualise and apply the theory that ‘reality is what you make it’ (as Sampa the Great has said before) was truly quite inspiring as I have felt my mind slowly become entrapped in itself in Beechworth; in the sense that I do not see myself, or my character, being seen by peoples from outside the small town. I am too internalised by this, wherein I constrain the things I do and say to contempt those around me within the town out of fear of being ostracised, and in turn am deeply trapped and tormented with a depression and fear of being myself. I feel at a base level this is what leads to a lot of my anxieties, wherein not only am I scared because of my past in highschool, with bullying and being an outcast etc but also in the fact that I have no peers that hold relative passions to the ones I have and so I have no validation of my views, beliefs and interests by my social circles. I also met another young man, from Italy, who has road tripped Australia on a motorbike, expressing that ‘being out there, alone, with just my bike, on hundreds of kilometres of empty roads; that’s the closest I have ever felt to freedom.’ This was another source of inspiration to me because it reminded me of the fact that there is always tranquillity to find within oneself once acceptance of being alone has come into place. There is nothing wrong with being alone and with oneself on this planet. There is no need for validation. The best things have always come from those who have not sought after it, and the most attractive, and personable people are those who do not seek validation of themselves within others and are rather happy to be who they are and accept the consequences of those who are not so fond of them for doing so. Family is the ultimatum of who to care for other than yourself and are essentially the only people that you can rely on at the end of the day to be there for you no matter what.

I was also inspired by Frank Xavier tonight when he came in to speak for the second half of my liveschool class; having over 20 years experience in the industry, and being heavily evolved with the development of electronic music within Australia, his keen eyes and quick lips were nothing sub of amazing to display after being in the industry for as long as he had. He had clearly not lost any interest for what he was doing and he clearly loved having the chance to pass the information on to others – a true scholar and possessor of knowledge. He was captivating to listen to, even if it was only for a short amount of time. It was less about what he was talking about specifically, but rather the essence he spoke of to us. ‘Don’t let it be robotic’, ‘Have dynamics’, ‘Make it interesting’. He surely prompted us to imagine ourselves to be the best we could be before we were mixing whatever we were making. We are doing this out of passion and not money; and if that was the case – we must do so mercilessly if we wish to do so well. Without realising, I think he was more inspirational than anyone else I’ve met at liveschool – purely because his intense love for music and it’s intricacies, and his undivided attention to it throughout the night and what I assume to be his whole life. He is good at it because he loves it and he does not care about what others think of what he does. He does it and he does it well, to his standard, and he knows best, and so he does well.

I think I’m definitely coming to a crux in my life. I’m 22, I’m still living at home, I’m inspired, but I’m yet to make any kind of leap, nor commit myself to any kind of field. I hold a strong sense of entitlement to my surrounds and I cannot seem to budge the resentment that lives in me for my childhood. I cannot speak to my family on such subject and my mind is In near constant disarray. I don’t know how to deal with myself and I don’t know if or how I should speak to those around me about my mind – at least I have recognised these things about myself now and am slowly starting to feel better again. I don’t know if I will ever lose the unsettling resentment for my Mum and her lack of speech and or input in the past bit – I want to get over it but I do not know how to. She has no idea how the way she has acted and spoken to me in my upbringing affects me now and I’m really really unsure of whether it’s something I should talk to her about as I don’t know whether I should pressure her with the guilt of being part of the cause of my fucked head. She means nothing but well for me and for everyone in the family but constantly fails to understand me, and I guess that’s everyone, because no one can understand me, for some reason, but I guess because it’s her I tend to think a little harder and more irrationally about it because I don’t know how else to deal with it because I can’t speak to my own mother.  This is an ongoing issue and due to my distrustful nature I tend to begin to believe things have been hidden from me by my family and hence why they are unable to talk to me about it.

Go and eat another fucking snack, fatboy, and while you’re there stink the shitter out with your putrid filth of an excuse for foecal matter. I’m really not typing anything constructive here and it makes me doubt my capabilities to do so because if I can’t type here, in a solo environment, how will I ever? Will I ever be able to travel if I haven’t dealt with these internal issues? Will I ever be able to get rid of them without talking about them with someone and/or my family? Why did this essay start by me wishing to state some inspiration I’ve found recently and then trail back into the family and head issues I am dealing with at the moment? Who knows. I guess they’re somewhat intertwined. Back to the topic of inspiration. What the fuck some woman just got on at cootamandra and said that she’s smiling because her ‘brother left her mother in a paddock to die and paid to have me shot, so I’m smiling because I’ve done my time and I’m on this train’. She literally has her hair dyed black and pastel yellow in stripes. STRAYA

This past week has shown me many particular little things that have shown me inspiration in one way or another. The reddit post outlying ‘workflow’ and that it’s more to do with lifestyle and habits rather than the way in which you actually work. This ties in quite solidly with the way I saw and thought Frank had grown to the esteem he had. Through sheer love and ethic to make good music. There was also another post, linked to the reddit post, of a producer giving tips on how to be consistent. “Do what you want. Have fun. The chances are, if you think something is a good idea, then it is. Don’t do it for any one else, do it for you. I bump my shit all the time!”. I think this one, while primarily applying to music, applies to life as well in a different fashion to the first, in the fact that it can literally be applied to a persons entire character and social standing. Do it for yourself. See the people you love. Do the things you think are fun. Make the jokes you think are funny. Have the social media presence you think is okay. The world is yours, and yes, while it may be the digital age and everything on the internet will remain printed for **ETERNITY** who is to really care? We’re living in a more droning and less self aware society than ever before; money drives popularity and fame drives money; products rollover and kids turn into more worker bees to run about the hive. What’s so wrong with just being a child? Nothing. Be yourself. Educate yourself. Enough of the endless short term attention and mindless grabs at instant gratification. The world is a beautiful place with a select bunch of beautiful people, don’t ruin your mindset on the asset that the others will care. There is no second 2017. This is it. This is now. People have forgotten that. Despite the internet being ‘forever’, we aren’t and I feel like the vast majority are forgetting that,.

Make things, be passionate, break things, make people laugh, get money. This is extremely disjointed and I for sure don’t know what I’m talking about but heyoooo my negro lesgeddit