#I’ve done salmon. seals

[desktopmermaid]

Would you still love me if I made lesbian train gijinkas

[firefirefruit]

Steel in Her Veins, Chapter: Forty-One

Read On: AO3 | Table of Contents | Next Chapter

Characters: Fem!Reader x Roronoa Zoro

Notes: I've been collecting one piece cards and NOW I'M SO BROKE. WHAT HAVE I DONE.... ADULT MONEY IS A CURSE AND A BLESSING.

Chapter Forty-One: Odenta

The wind around us feels morose, empty – sickly humid, at best. It gasps, and like a withered mouth, it unhinges its jaw and releases its last pungent breath against my skin. Uncomfortably, I shift around on the floor.

My ear, trying to muster out anything within those four cold walls - any noise, or discussion, or if I must settle, a groan - is glued against the sealed door. I shift again on the floor, pressing the side of my face harder into the wooden panel. But there’s nothing. Only the steady beep of a monitor rings within that shrouded space, one that leaves my breath constantly lodged tightly within my throat.

Around my curled form, I’m levelled with a mountain of filthy boots that shift every so often and accidentally kick me in the knees; those very boots, donned by the Hearts pirates, grind anxiously into the wooden floor. Every single eye trains on the door in front them as if staring at it enough will roast it down into smithereens.

I’ve never seen Chopper and Law act like this before— their faces pale, their eyes hesitant, yet still, they try to keep it together for the sake of each respective crew. It was an instant switch, seeing them turn from acting like horrified pirates into a state of emotionally repressed doctors.

I shift again as I feel another boot knock against my knees. In a biting growl, I hear Zoro make an incoherent demand at someone, and instantly, the boot shakingly disappears from my sight.

Law… I breathe out sharply, hearing a soft voice through the door that must belong to him.

I squeeze my eyes shut, wondering how he must feel right now, because frankly, I never really knew how much Bepo meant to him until now.

Sure, Law’d be snapping demands at Bepo with a certain air of ‘Oh, Captain—’ yet there were still those overseen moments that told me Bepo was more than just a member on his ship. He’d throw in a fat salmon - Bepo’s favourite – across his plate, or tie up the furry bear’s boots into two neat little knots when he thought no one else was watching. No questions asked, no fuss necessary, and definitely no gratitude to be made.

But this is different. I saw Law’s eyes bulging out with panic, his face draining into a cusp of what he was supposed to stand for to his crew– a strong captain, a protector, untouchable and present. All of that instantly shattered the moment he saw Bepo’s limp body slackening on the floor, thick, black ink wetting and slithering in choking curls through his fur.

Before I can shift again on the floor, I feel a large hand rest on my head.

I gasp, jolting upward to instantly meet Zoro’s gaze. His fingers softly dig further into my hair, trailing down from the top of my crown to the ends of my locks. I watch a dark brown strand begin to weave through his knuckles, his rough fingers deftly twirling through them, as he watches me with… is that worry?

“He’ll be fine,” Zoro says, his voice steady, but I have a feeling he’s trying to convince himself more than anything. I breathe in sharply and nod, noticing how he becomes suddenly so invested with my hair. His fingers run through my scalp with small yet precise pressured movements, and I can’t help but release the tension in my body, thinking, maybe all of this will be okay.  But that moment of peace shatters in a second.

Inside the cabin, I hear a muffled thud, followed by a string of hurried words from Chopper. I can't make out what he's saying, but the urgency in his voice is clear. I close my eyes, forcing myself to breathe, to not let my mind spiral into some dark territory.

Suddenly, there’s a loud crash from inside, followed by a shout—Law's voice, sharp and commanding. My eyes snap open, and I feel Zoro’s hand tighten over my hair, slightly tugging me backward to keep me out of the door’s way.

Then, silence. A long, suffocating silence that stretches on for what feels like eternity. Every second drags by, heavy and slow, until finally, the door creaks open just a crack. Chopper's small, resolute form appears, his face smeared with sweat. His eyes are wide and frantic, but there’s no sign of death on his face.

“He’s… stable, for now,” Chopper mumbles, his voice barely audible but enough to send a wave of relief washing over us. The silence shatters, and everyone lets out a breath they didn’t realise they were still holding, their shoulders sagging with the collective weight of it all.

Law appears behind Chopper, his expression hardened, but his eyes give him away. There’s a haunted look in them, a hollowness no one here has ever seen before. His inked hands are steady, his voice firm as he gives orders to the crew, but I can see the way his gaze keeps drifting back to Bepo in the dark corner, still lying unconscious in the cabin, clinging to life.

“Law?” I murmur. “Is he okay?”

Law turns to me. Holds in a breath, exhales it out sharply. “Whatever that thing was, some of its residue is clinging to Bepo's foot and won't let go. He’s growing weaker by the minute.”

“Fuck,” Usopp breathes out.

Usopp’s voice startles Law, snapping him to the realisation that everyone’s watching, their eyes baring witness his sudden decrepit form. Lowering his gaze to the floor, Law clears his throat.

“Look, I appreciate you all being here to support, but we need some space to figure all of this shit out.”

I need some space, he really means.

“We’ll give out more updates soon, but in the meantime…” Law’s gaze pierces mine with an intense meaning behind his eyes. He wants blood, he wants justice for what the creature did to Bepo. “It’d be helpful if we knew where we’re actually going.”

I nod quickly, trying to shake off the lingering fear. “I’ll figure it out. Just give me a few days to find the destination.”

Law nods curtly, his eyes already shifting back toward the medical cabin. He doesn’t need to say more; his focus is entirely on Bepo now, and the urgency is palpable.

I turn away, silently indicating at our tethered shackle to Zoro so we can move. He gives a terse nod as we both fall into a steady pace.

Fuck. I know that no room for doubt or hesitation—we need to act fast, and I need to find answers, but there’s also a lot riding on my dumb guess on asking a fucking sword for coordinates.

As Zoro and I make our way across the deck, I can feel the following eyes of the crew, their collective thoughts weighing on me like the size of bloody Aragnus. I pass by Nami, who’s standing near the helm, her knuckles white as she grips the railing. She looks at me, her eyes questioning.

“We should keep the ship moving,” I suggest, trying to keep my voice steady. “No headings yet, but I may have a lead.”

 “Go on.”

I hesitate, glancing at Zoro, who gives me a tiny upward twitch to his lips. “There’s a chance—just a chance—that I can gauge out some information from my blade.”

“Your sword?” she slowly enunciates.

I lean closer to her, my voice lowering slightly. “If I’m able to talk to Zoro’s Ichimonji and Law’s Kikoku, I think this might be worth a shot, too. It’s… hard to explain, but it’s possible.”

Nami purses her lips, her eyes narrowing in a conflict between scepticism and interest. A beat passes before she opens her mouth again. “I’ll keep the ship moving. We might have to stop somewhere in between for some supplies, but you need a lot more than that for us to go in the right direction.”

“If this becomes a shitshow, it’s on me,” I softly murmur.

Although her face softens at my claim, Nami offers a brief nod and turns back to the helm, her focus shifting to Aragnus who’s flying above, keeping an eye out for any incoming threats.

“Alright.” I take a deep breath, my fingers gripping onto the Kozuki coin in my pocket.

“Back to work?” Zoro asks beside me. I give him a terse nod, pacing towards the crow’s nest with a hard-set mission.

When we arrive, I whistle lowly, taking in all of the dust and debris that thickly rests on our equipment. Our two separate worlds meet in half once again, remaining all too strangely familiar in the emptiness of our disuse.

“Well, then. How long’s it been since we were in here?” I mutter.

Zoro hums as he looks around. “I hate how it feels so…still.”

Although he says that, I can see his shoulders loosen up as he meets with familiar surroundings. A tiny smile twitches on my mouth, noticing him being much calmer being up here than on the deck, but I don’t dare bring it up. I know I’m feeling the same way.

I peer past the dust that wafts from Zoro’s weights, my eyes lingering on my favourite partition of the crow’s nest: the workshop, with its furnace still burning in the back and the light dim enough to sleep in. Gleaming blades are hung on every spare part of the wall, decorated almost reverently in the midst of my wake. My black bean bags are still there, thrown in a messy corner with a patterned carpet lying underneath – my place of respite, when I didn’t want to leave my workshop, when I was too hyper fixated on my work.

My heart burns as I take it all in; it smells of my grandfather, it feels like him.

“Let’s keep moving,” I bite out, pushing back against my headstrong thoughts.

We silently trudge past Zoro’s training room to my workshop, and I notice the way his eye lingers on his training equipment as if he’s salivating for its touch. I snort lowly to myself, making the chain between us clank from the movement, but Zoro’s too busy in his own head to notice.

“I'd be lying if I said I know what to do,” I murmur.

“That sounds really promising, Raya.”

“I know, look at me. Full of promise.”

With a tired sigh, I slump into a chair in front of my bench and clear the table from any strewn tools and pieces of discarded metal that rests abandoned. Zoro leans against the bench, facing me, a hard look set on his face as he quietly observes what I’m doing.

I look up to him and purse my lips apprehensively. He looks down at me questioningly.

Surprisingly, he cracks a little smile. “Having second thoughts?” he asks mockingly. A little grin grows on my face as I realise, this little shit is trying to rile me up.

I scoff and pointedly flip my hair at him. “What do you take me for?”

I slam the Kozuki coin on the centre of the table. It glints under the dim light of the room, so smooth and golden it looks like it’s melting into a little magical puddle.

And then, silence. I stare at the coin with ultimate concentration, burning lasers into it with my eyes. Nothing happens.

“Aren’t you supposed to do something with it?” Zoro mutters, trying to hide his growing smile. I blink at him before a wave of embarrassment washes over me.

“Um… yeah,” I say, internally wanting to set myself on fire. I don’t know if it’s the stress or the lack of sleep I had last night, but I’m feeling positively thick-headed today.

“Did you hit your head somewhere I didn’t realise?” Zoro mockingly prods again, looking down at me. I scowl and push down my embarrassment away as I snatch the coin from the table.

"No, I didn’t hit my head. I’m just not used to performing magic tricks for an audience," I snap, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Now shush, I’m concentrating.”

I take a deep breath, trying to block him out and refocus on the task at hand. My fingers curl around the coin, feeling the cool metal press into my palm. The emblem of a star etched so finely across the engraved helmet winks tauntingly at me, glinting majestically as if it knows something I don’t. I grit my teeth at that. And then I flip it into the air.

As the coin twists in the air, its smooth, golden surface catches the dim light, casting flickering reflections across the room. For a moment, everything seems to slow down. The coin spins in a lazy arc, its path almost mesmerising, as if the metal itself has a mind of its own.

Then, something incredible happens.

The coin starts to change mid-air, almost as if it’s alive. The golden disc stretches, elongating and twisting as if an invisible force is moulding it like clay. It ripples with a strange fluidity, defying the laws of nature, as if it’s liquid one second and solid the next. The room seems to hum with a low, vibrating energy, and I can feel it in my bones—a raw, ancient power that sends a chill down my spine.

Zoro straightens, his eyes narrowing in focus. He watches with the intensity of a hawk, his body tensing as he instinctively reaches for the handle of his sword, unsure of what might happen next.

The coin stretches even further, the golden metal shimmering as it morphs and elongates, forming a hilt, a guard, and a blade. The transformation is both fluid and jagged, a series of sharp, precise movements that seem almost choreographed. It’s like watching a dance of molten metal, each twist and turn shaping it into something new.

In seconds, the coin has transformed completely. What was once a small, innocuous piece of metal now stands before us as a longsword.

“Alakazam,” I dryly say.

Zoro wolfishly grins at me and nudges me with his arm. “Idiot.”

Alright, I think to myself. One obstacle gone; on to the next.

I close my eyes, squeezing them hard. Think, Raya, how do I connect to a sword’s voice?

First, I grab a blade between my fingers, and then I try to feel a certain type of frequency within its steel. That’s easy. That’s fine. I can do that.

Second, I close my eyes, focus on standing in a blank box, and a string of colour linked to the metal usually ribbons past my vision, moving to the voice of the sword. Okay… A little harder, but not unmanageable.

And then… I swallow slightly. That’s when things get fickle. Voices can come either quickly or slowly depending on the type of sword – some are less keen to talk to strangers who are about to pummel them into a different shape, whether it be pride or fear overtaking them.

“Come on,” I whisper to myself, my eyes squeezed shut. “This is easy work.”

Suddenly, I’m plunged into a blank space, an emptiness infinite white drawing me in on all side. Disoriented, I ground my feet into the white floor, twisting my body all around me in effort to catch that stray coloured string of its voice.

“Hello?” I call out, impatiently tapping my fingers on my arm. “It’s your lovely wielder, come to say hi!”

Nothing. Another beat passes, but I’m still not finding any colour of string, any hum within this endless white box.

I kiss my teeth; so, she’s the stubborn type. Defiantly, I begin to hunch over and sit cross-legged on the white floor. “I’m not leaving until you speak to me, you know…”

Silence stretches on for minutes on end, and I can’t help but suddenly and humourlessly laugh to myself. Makes sense Gramps would make a stubborn sword for an evenly stubborn wielder.

"Fine," I mutter, leaning back slightly as if I'm having a casual conversation. "You want to play hard to get? I can do that too."

I remain still, focusing on my breathing, letting the tension drain from my body. I need to clear my mind, to be open and receptive. The stillness stretches on, and I find myself in a strange state between patience and determination, a balancing act I’ve had to perfect over years of wielding blades.

But she’s still not giving in. Nothing but white noise consumes me, my eyes stinging from the blinding whiteness of the room.

Grinding my teeth, I can’t do anything but open my eyes and glare at the taunting sword in front of me. I release a string of curses, not knowing what else to do.

“No luck?” Zoro hums and I turn to see him sat on a stool beside me. I sigh and look back at the blade.

“She’s being petty as fuck,” I mutter. “Why is she so defiant, so stubborn, so…so infuriating to work with? What have I ever done to her?”

I turn around again to see Zoro smirk, giving me a pointed look. Look who’s talking.

I deadpan at him and say, “Are you begging me to break all your swords again, Roronoa?”

He barks out a laugh. “Now you’re being petty as fuck.”

“Shut up.”

He mockingly coos, eyes widening. “And then there’s that defiance—”

“I hate you.”

“And there’s that stubbornness… Are you trying to hit the triple whammy, or what?”

I groan out and whip my head back to the sword, even more pissed off than I was before.

Get your shit together, I think to myself. Stray pieces of dark hair fall in front of my face as I hold my head in my hand, staring at the smooth metal before me. Its blade gleams faintly in the dim light, and I know in my heart it’s quite literally trying to mock me with its silence.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to—”

A certain set of fingers touch my cheek. Choking on my spit, I look up to see Zoro out of focus, his calloused fingers tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

“Dude—"

His fingers begin to tuck another stray hair behind my ear, slowly twirling it around his pointer as he stares down at me teasingly. He slots it behind my ear before he reaches for another strand, until all he’s doing is stroking my head, his hands never releasing his hold on me. I stare at him and the way he’s looking at me, so endearingly, as if everything’s alright in his own little world.

“You’re always so caught up in everything, Spitfire,” he murmurs. His voice is barely above a whisper, unaware that he’s revealing his innermost thoughts to the space between us. “Are you begging me to take care of you?”

The words are simple, but they blow me out of the water. I search for the intention behind his words across his face, and for once, I notice the subtle bags that lay under his eyes, dark and blue and deep. That’s when realisation hits me full force in my chest, taking me completely off guard.

He’s struggling, too. He’s hiding it, too. He knows how it feels to carry so much responsibility over one measly human body, and he’s never complained about it once. I swallow hard, my heart thumping in guilt.

In a swift motion, Zoro’s thumb grazes along my jawline, achingly gentle as he tilts my chin up to meet his gaze. His cool grey eye locks onto mine with a heat that sends a jolt through me, pulling me closer like a magnet. They’re searching, probing, as if they’re trying to strip away every layer, every defence I’ve built around myself.

Zoro leans in, his voice dropping to a low, gravelly murmur that heats me to my core. His lips are so close, they brush against the shell of my ear as he speaks.

“You’re so fucking insufferable, you know that?” he murmurs, his tone rough and edged with frustration, but there’s something else there too— desperation? “Every time I look at you, I see someone who’s fighting just as goddamn hard as I am. And it pisses me off, knowing you’re just like me.”

“I didn’t know you were such a poet,” I sarcastically breathe out, not backing down from his gaze.

He grips me tighter, his fingers curling around the back of my neck. With a tug, he tanks me me closer to him, his eyes grazing across all of my features as if he’s about to drink me in. Suddenly, there’s no space left between us.

“Let me in,” he breathes, his voice a low, husky whisper that seems to vibrate through me. “Stop fighting me. Please,” he adds, his tone desperate, almost pleading.

My mind is reeling, caught in the magnetic pull of his presence. I feel his thumb graze over my parted lips, tracing the curve of my mouth with a touch that’s both soft and demanding. His eyes darken, and a low growl escapes him as his thumb drags slowly across my bottom lip, parting them further. My breath hitches, my heart racing as his thumb presses just a little harder, my teeth brushing against the rough pad of his thumb.

Then, just as suddenly, he pulls back, his hand falling to his side.

I quickly train my eyes on the bench in front of me. I hold my breath, not wanting to look at him. It’s not like Gramps has ever trained me to be soft – so how the hell do I respond to… this?

“Th… thanks? I— I mean—” I awkwardly choke out.

But his gaze doesn’t waver, now that he’s completely unrestrained his feelings, when he spits out, “I don’t want your fucking gratitude. I just want you. Unfiltered.”

A sharp breath escapes my throat as those words hang heavy in the air. I’m not sure whether Zoro is even aware of what he’s just said. I stare at him, feeling my soul come out of my body.

I can see the realisation dawn in his eyes as soon as he grounds himself back to reality. Zoro falters for a second, and he quickly averts his gaze again, a faint streak of red creeping up his neck. He clears his throat and shifts uncomfortably, his fingers flexing over air, momentarily forgetting that there aren’t even any swords in his hands.

“Zoro, I—” I start, but my voice falters, and I’m not sure what I’m even trying to say. That’s really gratifying to hear? I think I feel the same way? I’m incredibly turned on right now? All the potential words stick in my throat like dried glue.

He clears his throat again, this time more forcefully, as if shaking off his embarrassment. “Don’t make it weird,” he says, though there’s no real bite in his words. He looks away as he curses to himself and then mutters, “Fuck. This wasn’t the right time.”

I lower my eyes and rest in the uncomfortable pause between us.

“Did you really mean that, Roronoa?” I mumble out before I can stop myself. My eyes are still trained on the workbench in front of me. “I mean - before?”

Zoro hesitates, his hand lingering in the air as if he wants to reach for something but doesn't know what. His expression tightens for a moment, and I see a flicker of conflict in his eyes. He opens his mouth to say something, then closes it again, swallowing hard as if he’s fighting against himself.

“Yeah,” he finally admits, his voice low and rough. “I did.”

There’s no teasing in his tone, no attempt to brush it off or pretend it was a mistake. He’s just laid himself bare like fresh meat in front of me.

I look up at him, searching his face for something—reassurance, maybe, or understanding. His gaze is steady, his expression unyielding, but there’s a softness in his eyes that I’ve never seen before. It’s as if he’s waiting for me to say something, to respond to his confession, but I don’t know what to say.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he quickly interjects. His anxious gaze never leaves mine. “Just… don’t push me away, alright? Please.”

I swallow hard, my throat tightening as Zoro's words sink in. “I’ve been running a lot from you, haven’t I?”

Zoro's expression softens at my words, and he lets out a small, almost imperceptible sigh. His hand relaxes, no longer flexing with uncertainty, but hanging loosely by his side.

"Yeah, you have," he says quietly, his voice softer than I've ever heard it. He turns away, almost as if he’s not ready to have this conversation.  “Look… Just… let’s just focus on the sword.”

I freeze, still reeling from his unexpected confession. I don’t know what to say. I feel like I’ve just been thrown around the room, completely disorientated and dizzied with what’s happening. But Zoro’s right; there are more pressing matters at hand, and dwelling on this now would only distract us. I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself, and turn my attention back to the sword lying on the workbench.

“Yeah,” I manage to say, my voice slightly raspy. “The sword.”

Totally. Let’s just ignore whatever the fuck that was and pretend we’re solving Bepo’s mysterious disease.

I breathe out deeply, trying to cool myself before I can do anything. My fingers brush over the intricate engravings on the blade, feeling the cool metal under my touch. I close my eyes for a second, trying to remember the exact moment when I heard Gramps’s voice through the sword. It was faint, almost like a whisper carried on the wind, but it was there.

The room falls silent, the only sound the faint hum of the ship cutting through the waves. I close my eyes, letting everything else fade away, until it’s just me and the sword. I let my hand rest on the hilt, feeling the cool metal against my skin, and focus on the energy within it.

I’m plunged back into a room of pure white, the sigh of it sending me reeling once again. I ground my feet again – this time, with more defiance – before I scream off the top of my lungs.

“Alright, you little fucker!” I yell, my voice echoing around the room. I thrust my middle finger up at nothing in particular. “Get your ass down here before I grab out a hammer and pummel you into a golden trashcan. It’s time to talk.”

For a long moment, there’s nothing. Just the stillness of the room and the weight of my own doubt pressing down on me. But then, just as I’m about to give up, a string of colour rolls across the blank space, floating in elegant swirls. Gold.

“There,” I whisper, my eyes still squeezed shut. “Did you feel that?”

I feel Zoro take a step towards me. “Feel what?”

I hold my breath, waiting, and then it happens again—a soft, rhythmic pulse that seems to echo through the white space around me. It’s faint, but it’s there, a steady beat like the ticking of a clock.

“That,” I say, my voice barely a whisper. “It’s like… it’s finally listening to me.”

HEY - FUCK YOU, ASSHOLE, the sword shrieks within my mind.

My eyes widen at the voice – a bratty feminine presence lingering within the recesses of my brain, a certain spool of gold stringing through my thoughts in a very brash and irritating formation.

Well, you’re not my grandfather, I flatly respond, frowning at the same time.

The voice cackles like a devious child. The string of gold, its voice, begins to spin chaotically around me in angry jagged points.

WHO, THAT OLD BAG? she yells in my brain, throwing me teetering on the brink of insanity.

The string falls into a neat line, hovering vertically as if she’s taking the time to think. She goes upright again, a line spiking to the sound of her voice as if decided what to say.

HELL NAAAAH.

Who the fuck are you? I hiss, my fists clenching in irriration.

The sword screams into laughter, gold spinning around me in a blinding carousel.

WELL, I’M BASICALLY REALLY SMART. LIKE, I’M WELL READ AND, YA, KNOW, PRETTY INSIGHTFUL, AND I KNOW ALL ABOUT YOU. I KNOW YOUR PAST AND PRESENT, I KNOW YOUR FEARS AND WANTS, AND YOU’REEEE,

the string swings around as fast as possible as if to make a grand point,

PRETTY FUCKING LAME!

I scrunch my brows together, anger steadily pooling within my chest.

So, you’re… you’re basically a fucking encyclopaedia with a shitty attitude. Great. This is absolutely not what I needed.

IT’S ODENTA, BITCH! the sword hollers, bristling at my previous name calling.  I know everything about YA sorry ass! What runs in YA veins! Who bore YA! Which poor fucker’s on the hunt for YA! Why YA are who YA are!

What’s with that shitty ass accent? I snap, yanking on the golden string, which earns a pissed off yelp from Odenta.

STOPSTOPSTOPSTOP! DON’T TOUCH ME OR I WON’T HELP YOU. I’LL END MY LIFE. I’LL BREAK APART. AND YOU’LL. BE. HELPLESS.

I steady my breathing, trying to remain calm.

Alright, I think to this bitch, if you know everything about me, then tell me how to save my friend. There’s a black substance that’s clinging on to him and it’s killing him. What the fuck is it, and how do I get rid of it?

There’s a brief pause, and for a moment, I’m worried she won’t answer. But then the voice returns, spiking again in golden string around my head.

AAAAAH YEAH, THAT LITTLE SHIT’S PRETTY NASTY, ISN’T IT? IT SMELLED WEIRD THE LAST TIME I WAS THERE. SMELLED LIKE COWSH-

I will deform you so fucking bad you won’t recognise yourself, I hiss, my fingers tangling into the golden thread. It cowers for a second, hearing the tone of my voice. Give me a proper answer, Odenta.

ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT, LEMME DO A LOOKUP FOR YA. Then the string falls, drooping into a vertical line.

I wait, my fingers tapping impatiently against my arm. I shuffle in the white space, unsure of when I’ll even get an answer.

But then it comes back up again and swims past my arms. YEAH, BITCH, THEY’RE CALLED INCUBATORS.

I hold in a breath, dread piercing through me like an icicle wedging itself in my chest. What do Incubators do?

UMMM… ON PAGE 753 ON THE KOZUKI SUKIYAKI WORD-VOMIT, the sword continues.

It clears its throat and then, in a disorientating manner, its voice transforms into a soothing, almost robotic, feminine voice.

Incubators preserve human and animal alike within their mass until every sign of their life ceases, and only their source of power remains. This process may be called Draining.

Example: Incubators, although drawn to all sources of power, are most commonly drawn to devil fruit wielders. When they drain the life of a wielder, only the fruit remains in its grasp.  

I feel bile rising up to my throat. Although my vision is blocked, I can sense Zoro’s eyes on me, sensing the revulsion within my body as my fingers twitch away from the sword. Incubators—creatures that drain life, leaving only power behind. The implications are terrifying.

Draining. I think, trying to process the word. So, like, some kind of forced extraction of energy. If that’s what’s happening to Bepo…

The voice clears its throat again, going back to its little despicable self. YA. SO BASICALLY, THAT THING’S GOT THIS LITTLE THINGY-MAJIG TO YOUR BUDDY-

Odenta, I swear to God, I’ll reshape you.

OKAY, OKAY, CALM YOUR TITS. WHAT I MEANT WAS THAT THE INCUBATOR’S GOT A SOUL LINK TO YOUR FRIEND…. SO YA GOTTA KILL THE THING FIRST, I GUESS.

And how do I do that? I snap, my desperation creeping into my thoughts.

The sword hums with a flicker of light. It pauses, as if taking the time to think. WELP, IT’S TIME TO FACE YOUR DADDY ISSUES.

What, I hiss through clenched teeth, the fuck?

DADDY’S GOT SOME INFO. GOTTA TALK TO HIM. She matter-of-factly says.

I stumble a few steps back, choking on my breath.

My dad.

The thought sends a jolt through me. A man I know nothing about—someone I’ve never met, never heard from. I grip the hilt of the sword tighter, my mind racing with questions and emotions I can’t quite process.

How the hell… I think to myself. How am I supposed to find a man I don’t know anything about?

YEAH, WELL, I KNOW YOUR DADDY. REALLY WELL, ACTUALLY, SUPER FUCKING WELL-

Alright. Let me get my hammer out a quick sec-

Odenta bristles and immediately cuts me off. FINE, FINE! JEEZ, YA WANNA KNOW HIS NAME?

Her question hangs in my mind, and for a moment, I’m overwhelmed by shock.

I open my eyes to glance at Zoro. He’s still watching me, his lips pursed in concern, asking me through his eyes if I’m okay.

I sigh and shut my eyes, squeezing them hard.

Well, shit, it’s not like we have any other options available. And if it’s for Bepo… maybe I can put my family spite aside.

I look up at Odenta, my fingers gripping hard over the steel blade.

Fuck it, I finally think, my resolve firming. Who is he?

The sword hums again, taking on the more soothing encyclopaedic tone as her voice, before she releases the most unexpected name I couldn’t have even tried to guess.

Vegapunk Shaka II., the human son of Dr. Vegapunk. The sword tauntingly whispers, very much aware of the shock that courses through my body. Would you like his location?

[beecreeper]

girl your imaginary what now 👀👂

Have I not done the bear religion info dump here yet? Buckle up because I LOVE my bear religion

Okay so I have a wild west styled homebrew D&D setting that I’ve been developing on and off for a few years and one of my favorite parts is the race that is just Bears. Literal normal bears with human level intelligence. Their general lifestyle is pretty similar to normal bears as well – a usually solitary lifestyle full of eating and sleeping. However, when they do meet up with other bears, storytelling is a critical aspect of their culture. Mothers tell stories to cubs. Suitors tell stories as a part of courtship. When meeting at salmon runs or berry patches, they try to one up each other with stories. The stories included in these story sessions can range from personal stories (to catch each other up on what’s happened in their lives since they last met) to the legends and myths as part of their religion. Particularly talented story tellers are known as story keepers and are the equivalent of priests in the bear religion.

There are four gods in their religion, which match to the four seasons. There is The Father, The Mother, The Orphan, and The Bastard. The Mother, the goddess of spring, is always accompanied by a cub that then grows to become the new mother each year in a maiden-mother-crone esque cycle. The Father, who rules over fall, represents strength and virility and mates with the mother as part of her cycle. Each fall, male bears have the option of fighting The Father (if they can find him) and will take his place if they win. The Bastard, god of summer and overabundance, is a trickster with the head of salmon (which I always imagine stylized in a PNW First Nations art style). Finally, the Orphan is the goddess of winter, starvation, and death.

This set of four is also reflected in the way they tell their stories, which are traditionally told in sets of four; there should be a story of plenty, story of glory, a story of loss, and a story of cycle, generally in that order. In general, the story of plenty is either about good luck or cleverness. Somehow, the protagonist gets rewarded for doing as little physical labor as possible. Comedic stories are common in the story of plenty. The story of glory is similar to the story of plenty in that the protagonist wins, but differs in that they must overcome some sort of challenge or hardship. The story of loss is the exact opposite of the story of glory. Sometimes the loss is small, sometimes large, sometimes at the end of a long struggle or sometimes just a random act of fate, but one way or the other, the protagonist loses. The story of cycle is the most nuanced – it is required to have some sort of symmetry in its telling. Common themes in the story of cycle include birth, growing up, seasons, bad habits, romance, returning home, etc.

One more element that I’m particularly proud of is that there are also polar bears in the far far North of this setting (which has absolutely no bearing on the potential D&D game except that is allows me to think of MORE BEAR CULTURE). Their pantheon is almost exactly the same except their summer and winter gods are flipped. Their version of The Orphan (renamed The Drowned in the North) rules over summer instead of winter and is represented by a thin, starved male polar bear that is always dripping wet. Conversely, their version of The Bastard (Called The Dancer by those that like her and The Harlot by those that don’t) rules over winter and has a stylized seal head instead of a salmon head.

Oh man I have so much more bear details I love talking about my bears

[hatesaltrat]

Do you think Galbi (Korean bbq short ribs) would do ok in the smoker?

The main ingredient I use in the marinade is pear purée, for tenderness. I feel like maybe doing them in the foil pans like you do your meatloaf might work well.

Normally I’ve done them over charcoal but the marinade tends to kind of slide and cook off really fast. I think in the smoker it would like.. seal the flavor in there.

Oh man that sounds freakin amazing really! How much fat content is there in its raw form? Really it’s all about simmering the fat and marrow down to butter, that’s why meatloaf and brisket and salmon smoke so well. I don’t know how to cook galbi but if memory serves me correctly I think they have good marbling and the aluminum trays or hand formed foil pans I think would be awesome. If you do it, please keep me posted, I’ll give it a shot too.

[jodilin65]

I have great news, okay news, and shitty news. Where should I start? I guess I'll go in order from great to shitty.

The amazingly shocking and great news is that my TSH is 5.50! Just one point above normal! “I can’t handle a TSH in the normal range” may one day not be a true statement after all. Maybe it would have been this time if I hadn’t accidentally screwed up a few times by eating too soon or taking a melatonin gummy within the half-hour range. I was stunned out of my mind.

This is the first time I altered fate, in a sense. I knew that dream was a warning where Rhonda wanted me to increase my dose. But I jumped on it by increasing my vitamin D, and I stopped it! I stopped it. I literally stopped it! If only I could control other aspects of my life.

Tom was right when he said I had conflicting symptoms and didn’t think my thyroid would be that out of whack. Now that I think about it, some things make more sense. When my thyroid is better, it doesn’t make me lose weight, but it makes it harder to gain. If my TSH was way up in the teens or twenties, I likely would be in the 160s, struggling to keep from gaining more and more weight. Also, I’ve always had thick curls but when gathering it back in a ponytail lately, I’ve noticed it feels thicker. In fact, this long, thick, curly mane is getting to be such a pain in the ass to care for that I’m almost tempted to cut it off again. So many women out there would love this problem, and you know what? They can have it! Live with it as long as I have, and it gets kind of old. To avoid combing through the sea of wild curls all the time, I often braid it.

The news that’s just so-so is that my A1C is down but only by a point—it’s 5.9. I’d like to push it down another three points, but I don’t know if I can. I didn’t realize this at first, but she’s also running some tests on my liver that aren’t done yet. I don’t expect any problems there.

The shitty news is that I continue to sleep absolutely shitty as fuck. I am so run down and tired now. My brain and body have been taking a beating for decades as the years of sleep disturbances add up. I wonder how much more it can take before I have a stroke or heart attack. I worry about landing in the hospital because of this shit. It’s absolutely horrible.

I’ve also had that feeling again where I feel short of breath, even though my lungs aren’t exactly tight. I wrote that off to nerves, but since that’s not a common symptom of being wound up for me, it makes me wonder if it’s connected to my TSH pushing down, though I doubt it. I’m definitely going to skip the vitamin D for a few days because I don’t want to overdo it. Salmon is high in vitamin D, and I had some today, so it may be another day before it starts draining from my system.

The question is—what’s making me so cold at times? I looked that up and found a long list of possibilities, so maybe it’s just age.

Seriously, though, last night was absolutely horrible. I was so close to just grabbing the bag of charcoal, sealing myself up in the bathroom, and ending my suffering once and for all. In frustration, I smashed the shit out of my forearm, leaving bruises. Not with any sharp instruments, just with my fist. I was just so frustrated and didn’t want to break anything by throwing or punching things.

My sleep was broken up twice, and each time, I only slept for an hour or two. The last time I tried to get back to sleep, I felt short of breath and couldn’t quite make it fully back to sleep. That’s when I realized there was more going on than my nose issues. The first time I was woken up last night had nothing to do with breathing issues; my shoulder was screaming in pain. Just when I think that’s getting better, it gets me again.

The second and third times, I felt like I couldn’t suck in enough air, even though I could take the same amount of breath through my nose with the strip on as I could with my lungs. That’s when I started to wonder about my lungs.

I had this weird dream I went to the dentist. It seemed like the hygienist was Holly, and I was going to get my teeth cleaned. For some crazy reason, I had to take my shirt off before lying down in the chair.

So I took my shirt off and realized I didn’t have a bra on, so I was embarrassed. I casually rested my arms across my chest to hide my breasts when I lay back in the chair. Then they were having some computer tech issues, and I offered to reschedule and come back another time.

Holly agreed that would be a good idea and hugged me goodbye. But the only reason I wanted to get out of there and return another time was because I had forgotten my bra when I got dressed earlier, lol.

Then I went into the waiting room and spotted Tom at the back of it. It was pretty crowded, so I wove my way through the people waiting, but by the time I got to the back, he had disappeared. Managing to get home on my own, I was looking out the window of what appeared to be an apartment. Just to the right, I could see they’d dug out a square section of land to build another apartment building.

I then called Tom to ask where he had disappeared when he accused me of taking off because I had something to hide. Other than my chest, I assured him I wasn’t trying to hide anything. There was also something about him being upset that we didn’t get some things we needed after moving somewhere, saying that if he knew it was going to take that long, he’d do it himself.

Mixed reality rocks! I love that app where a little spaceship crashes through your ceiling and drops into the center of your room, and a bunch of “puffians” explode from it that you have to shoot. Bits and pieces of the shot-out walls and ceiling drop onto the furniture and floor, and the puffians climb everywhere—the walls, lamps, chairs, couch, etc. It was just amazing and so real-looking!

[mxvladdy]

Little Stardew somethin’ somethin’

*Barges into your house with fluff nobody asked for* In this house we LOVE and RESPECT our sad boi and wish him well. 

Hopeful Fluff of Shane getting better. Idk what to call it but I wrote it soooo-

TW: Mentions of alcoholism and withdrawals symptoms 

Mornings were your favorite. The crisp mountain air coming in from your open windows. Helping erase the slight bitter tinge of mead and wine fermenting in your basement before the next festival. Pouring another cup of coffee you watch the sunrise from your kitchen window. It’s golden rays bounce off the river water flowing lazily outside your garden wall. A few fat salmon jumped out teasingly, scales shining in the cool fall air. 

“Whatca think Salem?” You pat your shepherd's head. “Fishing after herding the sheep? Or a horse ride into town? I think Gus has got some new treats for ya.” Salem woofs, wagging his tail once before trotting to his dog bowl. He eats quickly then eyes the back door expectantly. “All right, herding it is.” Checking the breakfast casserole in the oven and peeking in on your boyfriend’s sleeping form you tiptoe out the house to get your morning started before breakfast. 

Watering and harvesting took longer than usual. The fruit trees hung low and groaned under the weight of their labor. The peaches looked exceptional this harvest too. You pick them, making a mental note to preserve some for Evelyn and Abigail then sell the rest to Pierre. After the harvesting and several trips to the storage shed you go to check on all your babies. 

Several new chickens had hatched overnight too. Three brown, a white, and another void. You tuck the little black chick into your hoodie and give it a smooch. As useless as their eggs were for eating you always had a soft spot for these tiny goth chickens. Taking it to the coop you had specially built for your void-born feathered friends you deposit the little one amongst its brethren. It peeps in thanks before waddling off to peck at the fresh feed.

Morning chores done, you jog back to your house hoping your casserole hasn't burned. The house smelled of spiced ham and fresh garlic when you reentered. The rest of the windows open to let in the river breeze and faint scent of your flower patches. The fireplace roared in its corner, chasing away the frosty nip that clung to your cheeks. “Shane?” You follow the noise from the mudroom to the kitchen entrance. 

“Ye?” He poked his head around the corner. Warm brown eyes blink at you blearily. The corners of which were still crusted over with sleep. He must have just rolled out of bed. “Morin’.” He yawns widely scratching at his rumpled old gridball hoodie. Exchanging a brief morning breath laden kiss you smooth down a few of his more wild strands of bed head. 

“Thought you were taking the day off?” Your lips touch again, pulling a happy little hum from him. 

“I am. Just thought I would finish making breakfast so you could put your feet up faster. Plus, I think I finally figured out your ham recipes.” He drags you to your favorite spot at the breakfast nook before going back to the oven. “It’s the clove to cinnamon ratio ain’t it? Too much of either distract from the flavor of the fat.” 

You nod in approval at his deduction. He pours you another cup of coffee, his hand shakes on the carafe handle. He was jittery today. Whether it was his anxiety spiking or just the jitter after a decent night of sleep you don’t know. But he’ll tell you when ready. He catches you staring when he turns back with two steaming plates of your eggs and veggie casserole and a thick slice of ham. ��Tell me what you think.” 

“I’m sure it's fabulous. Gus better watch out or there will be a new chef in town.” Shane practically glows at your praise watching you like a hawk as you eat. You inhale it, the morning exercises catching up with you. He lets you eat in silence, his previous twitchiness evaporating into a nervous silence. “Everything good?” You ask in between bites. You hated to pry or push but sometimes he needed a little nudge to get talking. 

Shane stares into empty space above your head worrying his low lip. His fluffy brows dipping low. “Shit-ye- I got something to talk to you about.” He rose then, shuffling off to your shared bedroom. You exchange a worried look with Salem. He whined low in his throat then followed Shane. Since Shane had moved in Salem had stuck to him like glue. It tickled you, as he was not the friendliest dog to people that took your attention away from him. But, with Shane, he found a couch companion and a late-night walking pal. It worked out great for Shane’s mood and recovery. 

Your boyfriend reappeared with a black binder and several stacks of paper. He places them in front of you. “I’ve been thinking over what you’ve said.” He stuffs his hands in his hoodie pockets burrowing himself deeper into the thinning fabric. “Between you and Harvey I-I want to have a go at it.” His eyes are downcast in shame. You riffle through the brochures. 

Brentforest Care Facilities 

“It’s a three-month inpatient care program. Harvey helped me set up the initial psych evaluation and has vetted for it. He’s got some friends that work there too. He-we think it would be good to work on a few hold-ups I’m having.” His stomach turns sour at the downward tug of your lips when you see the zero’s on the page. “Marnie is helping me cover the cost, an’ after the first few weeks I’m even allowed guests.” He pitters out, the overwhelming need to fill the dead air as you read disappeared as quickly as it had come. 

“You got it all sorted out huh?” You look up from the documents. Shane nods. You look back at the books, then him. He forces himself to breathe through his nose. This is it. This was the last straw, it had to be. He couldn’t blame you though- he wasn’t worth the effort. 

No-nope. Not starting this again. He fought with himself shaking the thoughts right out of his head. He trusted you. Dr. Martina trusted you. You were there during the worst of his withdrawal symptoms. The fevers, and shakes; you never flinched from his unwarranted shouting and irritability either. How many sleepless nights had you spent comforting him as he wept over things he wasn’t ready to talk about. You had gone through a lot with him and still was. You wanted to see him healthy. This was just another step. 

“Dr. Martina- my therapist- and I have been working on this for a bit. I just need a few more signatures and to make the initial payment. Then- then I’m good.” He raises his eyes to meet yours, pushing the fear he felt further down in his chest. 

His arms were suddenly filled with you. Your warm body flush with his. Soft skin and fresh windswept hair flooding his senses with your hug. “I’m so proud of you.” You mutter into his jacket. Farm callus fingers grip him close inviting him to hug you back. Shane let out a shaky breath he hadn’t even known he was hiding and reciprocated. He held you close and rocked you both side to side. “What do you need me to do?”

“Mmm?” He pulled you away from his neck. You loved burrowing your face there for some reason. Months ago he had hated when you did that. He always thought he smelt of stale sweat and the recycled air of the JoJo Mart. It had clung to every part of him for years. Hardly attractive by anyone's standards. But now, working out in the coops and fields alongside volunteering at the Community Center, it had all but disappeared. Now you swore he smelled like earth and like the pine trees that grew around your house. You had even admitted his sweat smells better too. Perhaps his alcohol sweats were finally lifting. Or maybe it was the better diet you made him eat. 

“What do you need of me?” You kiss his scruffy cheek. Eyes alight with determination and affection. 

He returns your kiss with a light peck of his own. “A few signatures- to show you can visit. An’ if there was an emergency you would be a contact. If-if that’s ok with you?” He asks.

“As if you had to ask.” You beam putting your forehead to his. “I’ll miss you.” You whisper between feather light kisses.  

Shane sighs in utter relief around your coffee scented lips. “Promise to write?” He asks cupping your cheeks to rub his thumbs over the sun kissed skin. “And feed Charlie too?” You laugh, nose scrunching up in delight at his joke.

You seal the deal with a kiss. 

[nymphixdevelopmentarchive]

What changes will you be making in your Au? I crave the knowledge

Woah hi anon!! Thank you for all the questions so far! I would be really excited to share with you all the lore I can offer (without giving out too much ;) )!  I hope you didn’t mind the long wait as I wanted to get really deep into this so I hope you enjoy it!!

Nymphix: Dragon's End is a canon-divergent au (which for those who don’t know means after a certain point in canon I cut off from there to begin a new point of lore, writing, and story) which cuts off after season 6's midseason finale and completely erases s6.5 (Mythix) to s8 (Cosmix) in order to place Nymphix in an easier time frame. 

This is basically how ill be sectioning off this entire answer, apologies for how long it is I get really encouraged to write when people as me this stuff: 1 will be basic pre-nymphix lore, explaining how the au will break off from canon, 2 will be changes to designs for each girl/guy/and parents (only really the main two ill be using: Oritel and Marion) and finally 3 the new additions to Winx lore and explanations of them. 

Pre-Nymphix Lore

So how will this au break go about? Well in order to implement Nymphix smoothly, I had to do one rewrite which is for the s6 midseason finale. After the entire Vampire invasion of Gardenia, Selina promises the Trix that her best chapter is yet to come. Selina is planning to summon Archeon at last in order to finally get rid of the Winx and maybe even the Trix to absorb their energy into the Legendarium to free her master. So long story short, the Winx confront Selina and the Trix and they fight. The Trix cover for Selina as she reads from the Legendarium and Archeon slowly starts to climb out of it, sucking in magical energy from all except Selina. That is until Bloom talks to Selina and tries to convince her to stop which causes Selina to do a double-take and stop reading and decides to use the magic energy she gathered and sacrifice herself in order to save the others and to hopefully undo all the damage she's done. Yet she can't, as Eldora finally reveals herself and grabs the Legendarium from Selina and uses her Mythix and stored Fairy Godmother energy to seal herself and Archeon back in the Legendarium causing it to be safe. 

Now with Eldora out of the picture (both literally and plot-wise), the Mythix arc cannot happen setting off a chain of events causing s6.5-s8 to not happen and instead causing Nymphix to be slowly rolling into action. After the Battle of Cloudtower v.3, the Winx decide to take some personal time off from saving the universe for almost 6 years straight to focus on themselves. So for a year, the girls have been pursuing either their royal duties or personal dreams. Bloom is learning more about how to be a Dominoian Royal, learning under her mother, Queen Marion. Stella is back in Solaria going under rigorous training to become Queen of Solaria which causes her to be in isolation from Radius as he hones in on her training. Flora is with Helia in Lynphea with her parents planning a wedding while Helia is learning under Flora’s Father to become a medical wizard. Meanwhile, Musa is with Roxy on Earth working at Frutti Music Bar and working on her music career. Aisha is currently ruling over Andros as Interim Queen due to something happening and Tecna is working on a big project for Zenith with Timmy. Sky and Brandon are on Erakylon as good ol’ King Erendor is attempting to retire, making Sky king and Brandon his right-hand man.       2. Design Changes (cause the Dragon knows we need them) First of all: I’m doing more look changes, giving the girl’s different body types and heights as I just feel like that makes each girl a lot more different. I’ve also changed how some hair looks, probably just on how I draw hair but Bloom and Tecna’s are the most different in a sense of length and style. Here’s a height chart for reference (this is an old one so please forgive the shitty anatomy and other things, I haven’t had a chance to make another yet!):

  I’ll go into each girl’s differences stylistically briefly. Bloom has much longer and wilder hair than her canon s6 counterpart, I honestly didn’t like the whole thing she had going with her hair so I brought the old style back and made it a bit longer and crazier with a lot of waves. Stella is a lot shorter and has longer hair, keeping more or less everything the same. Flora is chaotically different, having a much much taller form and making her bangs not look like they can cut you on impact, similar to Bloom’s bangs. Tecna has a lot of changes as well, mostly with her hair, giving it a very unkept manner but longer than the pixie cut we’ve first seen her within S1-s5, making it as long as her Bloomix hair. Musa has the second shortest hair, keeping it tied with Aisha. Musa is also the shortest in the group, but can still kick your ass. Lastly, Aisha is at the same height as Bloom, but I decided to keep her original hairstyle from s2 and s3 as I feel like those are the best representations of her hair but added the salmon highlights into her hair cause I think those look amazing on her. One other thing I have changed for the girls is their Bloomix designs. I honestly didn’t have to redesign them but I couldn’t help myself as they have a lot of problems aesthetically and efficiently, especially for a webcomic. I went for a still-looking good, but less sharp design and got rid of that shitty side ponytail from Stella’s Bloomix. I’m also giving the girls a lot of unique outfits to wear based off of previous transformations so look forward to seeing that and the Bloomix designs!  The guys have a lot more fixes than the girls, giving them a better glow-up than whatever the fuck s4/s5 did to them (rip Sky and Helia’s hair). Sky and Helia get their glorious locks back in full swing and made them longer, while the entire boy group gets new outfits and armor! The parents also have modified designs and personalities, especially Oritel and Marion. Marion, or The Dragon Queen of Domino, is a feared royal to most of her enemies and even some of her allies but a soft mother and kind leader to her subjects from those who know her best. She’s the current guardian of the Dragon Flame, having the “guardian form” of the Flame giving her a special transformation. Marion is also known to have a fiery temper during Alliance debates and talks with other kingdoms. Oritel rules by her side, gifted “The Key of the Flame” (the sword from SOTLK and MA and other times) by Marion when they were first married. Oritel is a lot calmer and much more level-headed during debates than his wife and usually takes care of these affairs as well as ones closer to home. Also no more bucket helmets and weird half-circle hair for them, they get new designs.        3.  Added Lore 

This is gonna be a bit shorter than 1 and 2 since some of the stuff in the added lore section are MAJOR spoilers. However, I can give you somethings that I think you will like anon! First off we have The High Council of Fae which is a council containing guardians of all canon transformations including Nymphix. This council is the main place where Fairy magic is tested, kept safe, fairy-involved history is recorded and stored, and trails of fairies happen. Daphne is apart of the High Council, being Lady Sirenix (Harmonix included). No one except the Council themselves and their close family knows the guardian’s true identities (except for the royals of Andros due to a loophole in sentencing) and are kept secret at all times. Each guardian looks over their respective transformation and guides those who want to gain it in the right direction or protect those who are involved in said transformation (Like Mythix with the Legendarium, Tynix with the Mini Worlds, Butterflix with the Fairy Animals, and Cosmix with the Cosmic star energy that is used by the Queen to bless fairies who are worthy). Another thing added to the lore is a small thing, Fae is used to reference Earth Fairies as its used in common folklore to call fairies of Earth Fae, especially since the Earth Fae have an almost entirely different magic system and way of life. Lastly, the Dragon Flame isn’t just Blooms, it's also been given to Daphne and Marion. Due to Domino’s past, a girl or son born in Dominoian royalty is usually blessed with the Dragon’s Flame as when they become Queen/King, they are seen and trained to be the protectors of the Flame. Queen Marion is one of them, as stated earlier, having a special fairy form of the Dragon Flame especially suited for Queens and Kings. Daphne, however, is very unique. Due to Daphne also being Lady Sirenix (basically having pure sirenix energy straight from the Heart of Sirenix), combining it with her Flame created the Water Flame which is a special type of Dragon Flame that is so enhanced by Sirenix magic that it becomes the Water Dragon’s Flame. Bloom has the purest form of the Dragon Flame, having the chance to basically become God. Each holder of the dragon flame also has a special Dragon that is gifted to them after being blessed with the Flame, coming in different forms that suit the user. Marion has a ram-horned Dragon, Daphne has an Eastern-Dragon-inspired dragon, and Bloom has the dragon we all know and love. Also as a fun little addition, in times of great fury, power or distress a Dragon Flame user can have horns in the shape of their dragon appear on their heads. 

[fistsoflightning]

mune ga hachikire-sōde

my chest is about to burst.

                          gatheredfates’ [30 day WOL challenge] | prompt: letter 

just a lil bit of catharsis for me… sort-of kind-of a follow up to holy! also @to-the-voiceless​ i am So Sorry for this, thank you for letting me take the linkpearl idea from this fic but also i’m really sorry for the angst again??? that playlist you made for harudewah. i am Still losing my mind over it.

also CW: a’dewah definitely has an anxiety/panic attack and it’s. kinda hard for me to read through and i was the one who wrote it? just take caution since emotions are Messy!

[ao3 mirror] (the word count rounds to about 7.5k!)

“but i find that lately i've been crying like a tall child…  

...please, hurry, leave me, i can't breathe

please don't say you love me

mune ga hachikire-sōde

one word from you and i would

jump off of this ledge i'm on, baby

tell me "don't", so i can crawl back in”

- first love/late spring, mitski

it’s barely three nights after the last visit to the cabinet that a’dewah finds himself again holed up between shelves and books, studying potential ways for g’raha to infuse the damned auracite with his blood, and a’dewah has only just realized that his hands are shaking and he has a craving to teleport to doma on a whim. a small craving for salmon muffins tickles the back of his mind, but he shoves it aside.

“i suppose i should have expected this,” he sighs to no one in particular, a small wave of magic stopping the shivering in his fingers. if only he could heal away the rest. magic can only keep him running for so long, and to extend one’s waking hours like he does would be considered harmful at best and eventually fatal at worst, should he keep doing so.

whatever must be done to keep myself from doing something stupid.

it’s not hard to see him falling back into old patterns—of tiring himself out so he doesn’t think too hard about what he doesn’t want to dwell on, of slipping further and further into both avoiding his feelings and drowning in them. his old friend; that familiar hollow, needy feeling that chews at his sanity yet again as he keeps writing down formulas that might save g’raha from doing something rash that will absolutely earn him a beating from… well. a number of people in the future. that tiny, loud, intriguingly horrible idea that sits in the center of the empty warmth burning low in his chest like a lantern running on its last bits of oil.

an angry, huffy exhale escapes his otherwise tightly sealed lips. hells, that hollow feeling shouldn’t even be there in the first place; it’s not as if he had no source of comfort here on the first—he doesn’t need haruki’s attention like some fragile flower, he could just ask zaya or wyda for a hug if he really needed the warm feeling. he shouldn’t be needing to constantly argue with himself whether he should write a letter, or call, or do nothing at all.

really, what he should do is stop thinking about it, but here he is, squeezing his eyes shut and keeping his hands planted on the table. he shouldn’t want what he nearly destroyed this much, and yet—

greedy, he chides, forcing himself to hold the quill tighter so that it presses into the callus forming on the side of his finger; a quiet, grounding pain. not even elwin sounds this silly. ‘wanting’. he doesn’t particularly care for arcanima, but if it helps him in the game of tag he’s playing with his own feelings for what feels like the millionth time in his life…  

a’dewah keeps writing. reaches out for a book to his left, only flicking his eyes over for a moment to see the cover he needs, and then he sees the kanai-anzen omamori sitting on top of the very book he’d been meaning to crack open next, waiting from when zaya quietly snuck over to sit with him for a few bells.

great.

the prospect of slamming his head into the damned table and giving himself a dire enough concussion so that someone in this library gets the guts to drag him to chessamile and have her put him to sleep—preferably for a long, long time—grows more enticing every moment his brain spends convincing him that making a small, short call wouldn’t be so bad. so does the idea of finding a pouch of dream powder and using as sugar in his chamomile tea later even though he knows how lengthy a lecture he’ll receive from g’raha, alphinaud, y’shtola and lunya if he does try it.

y’shtola would be disappointed in me; looking for a simple way out instead of pushing forward, he thinks, lifting his quill from the page and glaring at the small ink pool in his usually neat (doman) handwriting. he’s still not accustomed to writing with a quill but eorzean shopkeeps don’t carry calligraphy brushes, especially not ones small enough for his needs. 

but someone in kugane might, he thinks and gods he just needs to get it over with otherwise he’ll never make it to tomorrow night with his sanity intact.

he leans back in the hard, wooden chair, running a hand through his too-tightly tied up hair until his fingertips brush the edges of his linkpearl earring, searching for the one that cools his burning hands like diving into a river. once he finds it, it’s almost too simple to thumb open a connection despite the larger-than-usual tug on his own aether, the gentle chiming as he waits leaving him to wonder if this was going to be another one of his mistakes. he takes a sip of his (cold, stale) tea, steals a glance back down at the damned arcanima circles, stares back up at the glass ceiling of the cabinet and counts the stars as he waits, still pushing away the wanting that suffocates his heartbeat.

the monotonous chimes give way to a whole lot of static and the quiet rustling of leaves in the wind, and a’dewah almost thinks he’s used the wrong linkpearl until a tired, gentle voice like lazy river water whispers, “hey, can you keep this quick? it’s kinda late, and i’ve had a pretty long day.”

“ruki,” a’dewah breathes out, sitting up straight in his chair as haruki gives out a small ah of surprise. his tea is definitely cold, but he feels warmed anyways, a jolt of energy restoring the clarity to his murky thoughts. “sorry, is it a bad time?”

“a little, but i really thought you were hana-chan, or tsukiko—sorry, mune fell asleep while we were out and i was a little preoccupied.” for a connection made across worlds, the quality isn’t all that bad—a result of zaya’s very long search for a good linkshell to gift him, probably—and through it he can hear running water, maybe a few splashes and the click of haruki’s sabatons against stone as he walks slowly. he’d have sped up, if a’dewah were actually there to see him. he must be at the docks of the enclave, walking home with mune cradled in his arms. “what’s up?”

“nothing, really. i just—” needed to hear your voice. wanted to take a bit of your time. craved the warm feeling that fills my chest anytime you laugh or call me sunshine. “i have a bit of down time, and thought i’d see if you were, uh, free to talk? we—last time i was dragged into treasure hunting before i’d got to catch up with you, so i was thinking we could, well, just talk.”

“for you? of course,” haruki says, and a’dewah nearly breathes out a sigh. “just lemme get mune in bed and we can ramble about our days, or… weeks? hey, is it night there too?”

a’dewah nearly says yes, but the chirping birds and first light outside the windows of the cabinet tell him otherwise… but if he says it’s early morning, like very early, will haruki just tell him to go to bed like everyone else? he lays his head down flat on the table, staring at the quill loose in his hand and the incomplete formula on the parchment in front of him longingly. he doesn’t want that. ah, and again; wanting.

“no,” he lies, steadying his voice. a little half-truth wouldn’t hurt him… hopefully. “it’s a little later than dawn, but it’s still morning.”

“er, sir a’dewah?” just his luck; moren comes around the side of the bookshelf, eyes worried and moss green hair tied into a bun—it seems the warmer weather was getting even to the recluse librarian. “the exarch requests you do sleep soon, partly on lady lanya’s behalf? i… don’t quite know how he knows your whereabouts, but he said something about requesting the help of a “hagane-san”... d-do you think he’s in need of chessamile’s sleep draughts again?”

a’dewah stifles a groan, because moren had thoroughly blown a massive hole in his lie and haruki would have heard him. plus—since when did lunya and g’raha know about his sleeping issues? why is g’raha threatening him with hanami? why is lunya so worried about him? he lifts his head from the table, somehow pulling himself together enough to smile back at moren.

“send him my deepest regards, and that i will as soon as i’ve finished here.” a’dewah points to the linkpearl earring gleaming lightly in the dim candlelight and then to his pile of papers, and moren nods before scurrying off, presumably to wherever g’raha is watching him from. gods, if he didn’t fear lunya’s wrath, he might have strongly suggested g’raha stuff it.

haruki pipes up after moren’s footsteps recede into the sounds of dawn, more worried than chiding when he says, “dewah—”

“i know, ruki, sorry, i was just—i’m in the middle of a formula and got stumped so i called instead,” a’dewah says sheepishly, picking up his quill and writing down a few more calculations before capping his inkwell. less so being stumped and more so not wanting to do it, really, but that was for him to know. “i’m getting out of the library, don’t raise your voice, remember mune has better hearing than you.” he always forgets that he isn’t a child anymore, somehow, with a booming voice and bigger lungs to talk with.

he hears a small sigh, the creaking of leather and a small squeak of metal hinges on a door accompanying it. almost amused, but still a little annoyed, and he can hear the new clack of metal boots hitting wood much clearer, the echoing distance quieter as haruki heads inside. “...go to bed; i’ll talk to you as much as you want once you’re in bed, ‘kay?”

“keep talking to me while i get back to the pendants,” he tries, a little desperate as he starts to clean his table, re-shelve the books and pick up his research. “and i promise i won’t make a stop at spagyrics to get g’raha more sleeping draughts.” a false threat; he’s not going to invite chessamile to worry herself over two miqo’te scholars losing sleep, but he… he needs haruki’s voice. wants the background noise as he makes a long walk to the other side of the crystarium, not wanting to risk aethernet travel bungling up his work. “just any old story will do.”

“sure,” haruki says, resigned and soft enough to make a’dewah feel like melting. “hey, something kinda funny happened in kugane today…”

as a’dewah quickens his stride so that he might cross the crystarium faster, passing by the aetheryte crystal that can’t take him home no matter how hard he tries, haruki regales him with the story of mune running off (worrying) and finding a great big green chicken (even more worrying) that was apparently the pet of a gigantic man named yojimbo (oh, he’s heard this tale before, with different names) and haruki having to chase him down, eventually running into hildibrand, nashu, and some poor sekiseigumi they dragged along for the ride who were also looking for yojimbo. at one point, he breaks his sentence to whisper good night to sleeping mune, whispering even softer than before and a’dewah finds himself whispering the same thing as he climbs up the steps and passes the manager of suites without even a hello. it doesn’t matter; he’s not loud enough for mune to hear him or know that his dad is talking to his uncle across the rift, and somehow that hurts more than the bruise he gets when he trips over the last step to the third floor.

“i suggest staying far away from anything involving hildibrand,” a’dewah says as he cracks open the door to find an empty suite awaiting him; wyda and tehra’ir had left for eulmore. duscha and valdis accompanied y’shtola back to rak’tika, while lumelle and elwin trekked back to the inn at journey’s head by alisaie’s side. everyone else is… on the source. “he has a knack for getting everyone into trouble.”

haruki laughs, the bright sound covering the rattling wind against the windows—it must be a summer storm rolling in for it to be that violent in less than an hour. “i know; i called hana-chan and lunya about him when i couldn’t find mune and the damn chicken and she nearly choked when i mentioned his name.” the quiet rumble of wooden drawers opening, latches being unclasped, and oh dear a’dewah needs to distract himself before he starts blushing like a drunkard. “i think ihget’sae nearly strangled him; ‘pparently lunya wrangled everyone to come investigate when she heard mune got lost in kugane-dori.”

lost in kugane-dori. even a’dewah’s a little frightened by the thought of mune getting lost, remembering what almost happened to elwin. “anyone would, really. hildibrand is…” a’dewah mumbles. he pulls his boots off and tosses them next to elwin’s sandals, hachigane and gloves placed on the countertop by syhrwyda’s new cookbooks. it takes a lot more effort than he thought it would not to just collapse into bed with his battle robe on, carefully moving to grab his kimono cardigan and pajamas from where zaya folded and placed them on the bench. “he’s a force of nature. a very dense force of nature.”

“so, like us, but… worse?”

he sounds almost hesitant, and a’dewah feels his ears pin back in slight embarrassment. “you’d have to ask hanami for her opinion. she’d described us as, er, something colorful when she realized i hadn’t told anyone i was no longer interested in g’raha. lunya overheard and, well… i feel you know us all well enough to understand just what happens when lunya finds out your secrets.”

“you didn’t tell them, ” haruki exhales in a wheezy breath. his voice is muffled momentarily by metal and leather being carefully set aside, back onto the third shelf in haruki’s closet just behind the spare miqo’te sized clothing, just for him. he usually wears his yukata to bed, and convinced a’dewah more than once to take one of his spares when he’d realized his normal sleeping attire was back home. he—rather shamefully and awfully desperate—imagines haruki digging through his closet for the right colored yukata, chest bare and shivering as a’dewah bites back a laugh of his own, remembering how he had to point a bleary, rushing haruki to where his usual clothing was when he nearly missed mune’s genealogy presentation because he kept both of them up half the night. he imagines seiryu’s scale and how it never comes off from haruki’s chest for longer than a few moments, mostly because it keeps coming back, and a’dewah can kind of hear the thrum of the auspice’s aether. he’d always jokingly stuff it in his own pocket when haruki got fussy about it, and they hadn’t realized it would stay in his pocket so long as he didn’t leave yanxia til a’dewah went with hanami to namai with it still there, sitting quietly in his robe’s pocket. “did hanami—”

“she threw me to the wolves, yes, and i can still hear lumelle and a’satina’s screech of excitement, do not laugh at me,” a’dewah says fruitlessly, since haruki’s already choking down his laughs so not to wake maki and have her yell at both of them for being rowdy at whatever time of night it is. at some point, haruki sounds like he’s inhaled helium, and that sets a’dewah off in the middle of taking off his robe, bending over and dropping one of the clasps for the chain keeping the front close and the sash tumbling to the floor.

“i—kami, i really love you,” haruki says as easily as he breathes once he catches his breath, followed by the sound of the closet door closing, the drawer rolling back into place, and his lance being set against the wall. a’dewah’s breath hitches, something more than a little terrifying starting to worm its way out from the cracks haruki’s i love you tears into his tempered walls. his cardigan feels scratchy against his skin as he sits on the too large bed, moving to grab a blanket or two as haruki resumes his routine.

and after he’s practically wrapped himself in the blankets to the point where he’s swaddled like a newborn, he mumbles, “i’m in bed.” the rumbling static climbs in volume as a small clap of thunder sounds—he wonders, briefly, if the storm is zaya’s fault somehow—but a’dewah can still hear haruki’s quiet humming, the tune familiar from when they were just ten and still tripping over the lyrics. haruki makes a small noise of affirmation, hums quieting down. he can see haruki’s eyes scrunching up, focusing in on whatever it might be.

he starts to remove the clips and pins in his hair as haruki’s softened hums keeps him company. part of him wonders if haruki’s untied his hair yet, letting the mess of turquoise and teal down from the singular hair tie he somehow keeps it all in, or if he’ll wait until he’s already in bed and about to fall asleep when he suddenly remembers about it. his fingers tingle with the feeling of carding through haruki’s hair and braiding it just to see if he could. part of him hopes haruki will let him do it again, even though the first time he’d somehow tangled up the three parts into more of a twist than a braid.

“okay! now i am too.” a loud puff of air comes through; haruki must have flopped onto the futon with his arms and legs spread out. the rustling of the blankets, even though a’dewah is certain it’s summer and there’s a rather humid storm outside. he usually pulls the covers up to his stomach, especially when haruki tugs him onto his chest and into his arms. “anyways, how was your da—er, night?”

“i was in the library for the past sixteen bells, ruki, i don’t think you want to hear about it. talk about your… your past few weeks?”

“ah, right,” he says, not at all phased by the confused tone of a’dewah’s voice. “well, i got back from gangos with a new staff for mune! i’m saving it for when he finishes his current lessons with the kojin on, er, water aether? he still doesn’t like going there alone, though; he keeps asking when you’ll come back whenever i mention it.”

“is that so?” a’dewah cracks a weak smile like haruki might see it somehow. “promise i’ll be back soon… but who made a custom staff for him?”

“oh, the bozjan resistance got… was it gerolt? well, it’s something about him being a great blacksmith perfect for reconstructing the blades of gunnhildr, and he was offering services to anyone who could get him the materials, so!”

haruki rambles on about how he’d needed to “expertly persuade” hanami into helping him out with finding the inscriptions for the weapon only to realize he couldn’t do shite since they’d have to delve into the memories of poor cid, who really deserved to have a break and a lot of tea, and with each sentence a’dewah sinks deeper into something horrible. the part of him that is selfish, craves attention and touch, seems so much colder now than it was before, the hollow pit now a yawning chasm of wanting. of yearning.

he does not deserve to be yearning for haruki’s hands running across his skin, scratching at the nape of his neck to comfort and behind his ears just for fun. love is not meant to be as one-sided as he’s making theirs, a cycle of unrequested but nonetheless cherished actions rather than one side constantly wanting and the other giving. part of him wonders if he really ever loved before, or if it was just the terrible, horrible monster inhabiting the same space as him craving affection and getting it however it could, wringing it from the people a’dewah cared for.

(did his short-lived love for g’raha feel as twisted as the garden of emotions he grows in his chest for haruki? or was this what being loved and loving in return felt like?)

he bites his lip as haruki mentions a few other things he’s had happen in the time a’dewah’s been away—a very lovingly made omamori from mune, complete with a cat charm that sounds terrifying to him that lunya chose out, something about meeting tsukiko in her civilian clothing and her panicking, a visit from seiryu and suzaku inquiring to his and hanami’s whereabouts that spooked shomi and maki for a precious few seconds, a conversation with someone who said how people dream to stay with someone even in sleep—and tries not to wish for too much. even with suzaku’s blessings, his heart was still weaker; if he stressed about how good a partner he was to haruki, he might die here without ever seeing him again.

he’s probably exaggerating a little, but he’s got that odd feeling he’s going to die soon. just a little.

when haruki finishes going on about his incredibly interesting past few moons, a comfortable, smothering silence begins. a’dewah shuffles himself about so his tail isn’t suffocated under the blanket, whipping about slowly. “hey, are… are maki-san and shomi-san still, er, angry at me?”

“you really can drop the honorific, dewah,” haruki chides quietly. “but! no. not really. mother might talk to you about communicating when you come back, but you’ll be fine.” it sounds an awful lot like i won’t let them hurt you, which is stupid; they’re haruki’s mothers, they wouldn’t hurt him intentionally—but a’dewah is much softer than the stuff aymeric and hanami and haruki are made of. a golden heart, haruki says, but gold is soft. malleable. melts, under enough heat, and he is already filled with enough molten feelings to rival the sun’s heat. a’dewah is fairly certain he will melt if he damages his relationship to the haganes more than he already has, the solar flares of regret and guilt worse than any magical red lilies he could conjure.

he wants and yet he fears what he craves, left wondering which part of him is the broken bit that needs to be healed so that he might be able to just ask for it instead.

“i… er, don’t believe you, really… but i miss all of you,” a’dewah admits, feeling a bit smaller and colder than before. then, a quieter, less sure thought that really has no business bothering him: “e-except maybe itomi-san, even though she d-doesn’t really count?”

“well, y’know, she and naonaka kinda disowned themselves, so you’ll be fine.” haruki’s voice drops a smidge into bitterness—well, that wasn’t what he meant to do, curse his stupid mouth—but haruki recovers easily. he always has. “homesick for here, huh? tell you what; you can list what you miss the most, and i’ll see if i can get hana-chan to carry it over for you. maybe a’khebica has some ideas.”

“i don’t—it’s. what i miss from there isn’t, er, something hanami can bring through the rift. khebica wouldn’t know, either.”

“well, the offer still stands; i might be able to arrange something,” haruki says, and a’dewah just knows he is winking to his ceiling with a gleaming grin across his face like a’dewah can see him, and in a way, he can. it takes everything he has not to groan and smile at the goofy thought in return.

even if he did list what he missed so much about home, he’d just sound so desperate because what he misses most is haruki. for the past four years he’s been confined to the first it’s been haunting him just how much he’d relied on haruki’s energy to fuel his own once garlemald started pressing down on them double time, wondering if any of his strength was really his own. he wants what the letters they send back and forth describe; the quiet nights spent in each others’ company, the adventures in eorzea he promised, the hugs and kisses and that one dance haruki really wants him to do, the garden they’ve been caring for since he’s been gone.

lunya had offhandedly mentioned, once, how he and haruki wrote to each other like a married couple in their honeymooning phase, and he flushed a brighter red than dalamud not because she implied they were married but because he really, really wanted that more than he should. a step too far too soon, especially with the empire breathing down the warrior of lights’ necks, but fuck he really wanted to promise his future to haruki even if he didn’t know how much longer he would live just because it felt more right than everything else a’dewah could have done.

he wants too much. greedy, needy, childish wants. he just wanted to be loved for so long, and now that he has it he wants more. wanton.  

“i can’t quite think of anything,” he lies through his teeth even though what he really wanted to say was i want to be yours, forever because he is and will always be a coward. “but if i figure something out i’ll tell you.”

for all his perceptiveness when a’dewah is sitting in front of him, haruki doesn’t seem to be able to pick up on him feeding both of them lies through linkpearl. maybe something to do with the interference. “‘kay.” the silence rolls back in, like an early morning fog that chills a’dewah because he knows what he’s dreading is hiding in that fog.

please don’t say you love me, a’dewah pleads even though that’s exactly what he wants to hear. i don’t want this to end, i want to listen to your voice for so much longer, i want to hear about you, i want, i want—

he must have pissed off some sort of kami of misfortune, because the very next thing haruki whispers to him, so sweet and kind and not at all knowing what he’s doing to a’dewah’s heart, is “i love you, dewah.”

“...l-love you too, ruki,” he barely manages to say, not even toying with the idea of saying love you more like usual, and oh he’s starting to cry, how embarrassing. it takes everything he has to clamp his hand over his traitorous mouth and patiently wait for haruki to end the connection, pull the blankets over his chest and go to sleep while a’dewah fights with the monster leaping out of the holes in his greedy, greedy heart.

for a moment, haruki goes quiet, only soft breathing coming over the aetheric connection, and a’dewah thinks he might be asleep. he… hopes haruki is asleep; he doesn’t know what he’d do if haruki heard him, really.

and then of course a’dewah’s fingers slip, a loud sob that sounds more like a dying cat than him tearing through the cracks, and the silent turmoil is broken as haruki obviously gets pulled from the beginnings of sleep.

“...sunshine?” haruki asks, sleep fogging up his voice and a’dewah stupidly opens his mouth to respond which only lets out a whimper instead of it’s fine , and gods he’s a horrible, horrible mess, why is he like this . it’s not fair of him to keep asking for haruki to talk him down from the edge, to cry every time he calls and expect haruki to pick up the pieces when they both know hearing him crumbles hurts both of them. “dewah? was that noise you?”

and on the other end, a’dewah can hear the rustling of blankets being pushed off—shite, he’s keeping haruki up by being a child about this—and haruki’s hands slapping onto his bedding in a light thump as he pushes himself up in fear. “what’s wrong,” haruki says so kindly and fuck, he’s crying harder now and a’dewah was already teetering on edge of something completely and entirely disastrous before he did this, why did he do this again? “did something happen?”

everything is happening at once, more like. 

“i don—i don’t know,” he cries, wrapping his arms around his head like he used to when prisca would say stop crying like it would keep him safe from his own thoughts… but haruki’s not prisca and he’s using his time for him instead of for himself so why is this even happening, he shouldn’t be panicking. the blanket tangles around him, comfort twisted into a trap and a’dewah feels like he’s drowning. “i wish i did but i don’t and i’m so sorry please just end the call i need you to sleep—”

part of him is screaming please don’t leave me alone and the other part wails don’t listen to me cry again, i can’t be good for your health while a third, utterly confused bit of him sits trapped in the middle, hunkered down. the monster a’dewah has been running from has opened its maw and spews out all the things he utterly craves but ultimately does not deserve from life, threatening to swallow him whole and permanently, this time.

“sunshine, i’m not going to let you be alone when you’re crying like that,” haruki says, and a’dewah can’t tell if it’s pity or disappointment pouring through the linkpearl but he hates it, please just leave him here to suffer. “unfortunately, you’ve found a very stubborn person to date.”

he knows, but he also knows haruki knows danger when he hears it, so why doesn’t he run from this? 

because he loves you, part of him thinks in mune’s voice, remembering the comfort the little raen boy could bring in four words when a’dewah looked worried in the middle of teaching him something and gods, since when was a child more emotionally mature than him?

maybe because you never got the chance to be a kid and grow up normally, he thinks again, teetering dangerously close to hyperventilating as he practically strangles his fingers in his tangled hair.

he has absolutely zero clue what haruki has been saying for the past few moments, evident in the rising worry seeping through haruki’s usually calm, energetic, happy voice. “love, i need you to breathe,” he coos, and a’dewah hisses, lungs not working with him no matter how much he wants to listen, his wanting finally turning on its head. “here; listen to me. follow, please, i can’t help you if you hyperventilate.”

he’s extremely glad past him had the forethought to tell haruki a bit about how he deals with scared patients, because he remembers to murmur in, breath deep, out, breathe out, and even though a’dewah chokes on his own air he can catch up. i’m here, i’m here, haruki hisses between breaths, and hells open, heavens weep, if he wasn’t already crying his dedication to making sure he’s alright rather than listening and cutting the call would have made him weep.

“hey, sh-sh-sh,” haruki coos once a’dewah’s breaths sound less like desperate gasps for air and more like struggling to breath past the fat tears streaming down his face. “i won’t leave you alone, you can pretend i’m there next to you until you can actually lie down next to me again.”

but you know i’m no good at playing pretend. he can’t believe himself, sobbing and wrapping himself further under his blanket and letting the fluffy, stuffy feeling wrap around him in some poor facsimile of being hugged. nothing here could possibly measure up to the feeling he so desperately craves, even though it’s just being in haruki’s arms. all he really wants is a hug. imagine that. 

gods, it must be killing haruki to listen to a’dewah sob like he’s dying—he’s never going to tell haruki that he actually died, a bolt of ice piercing through his chest and suzaku’s feather on a staff he had no access trying to save him once more—and he has half a mind to cut the connection between linkpearls just to save one of them from being in pain but his arm makes the executive decision to try and rip his hair out instead. he almost never has control over himself when he’s blubbering, so he’s not so much surprised as he is sickened by his lack of restraint.

“i—” he chokes on the words, a hiccuping gasp shocking both of them. “i’m s-orry, i didn’t mean t’ pull you back from sleeping.”

his chest feels like there’s a thousand ponze weight crushing it down into dust, his emotions becoming too much like they always do, inevitably. in a better universe, maybe he would have had the restraint to let haruki go to sleep first, cut the call, and be miserable on his own until wyda came back, or duscha decided to return because he somehow always knew when he’d break down next. so did krile. maybe there’s just something innately motherly about scholars when it comes to their younger peers (was krile older than him?).

“i wasn’t meaning to pass out then and there, dewah, but i’m sorry for making you think i was going to leave you hanging like that.” haruki makes a little noise that sounds like oh dear, followed by the quiet ripping of fabric. did he clench his sheets so hard his nails tore into them? “i had a feeling something was wrong from the moment you said you called because you had time.”

well then. isn’t that a bit embarrassing, to be found out from the beginning. “i shouldn’t have called.”

“but you did, and i’m very glad for it,” haruki answers honestly, and a’dewah can imagine him sitting, a little hunched over and relieved, eyes half-lidded and foggy with sleep, because he’s always been one to work himself down to the bone and pass out, and a’dewah’s been keeping him up for stupid reasons, this time. “you deserve to feel okay, and i don’t mind losing a lil sleep over it.”

a’dewah doesn’t deserve anything, really, but he’ll take what haruki gives just because he doesn’t want to be rude when he’s offering support so kindly. even if it’s exactly what he’s craving—comfort. haruki knows him too well and one day it’s going to get him killed, either from heartbreak when a’dewah screws up for the last time or from actual danger when a’dewah gets the haganes in trouble by being a public figure with a very peculiar lover and an adorable nephew that also happen to be related to another warrior of light.

“ruki, go to bed.” he curls up into his pillow, poking his head through a hole in the tangles of the blanket to breathe. he’ll just stay up until his stomach rights itself and the sickening dread-guilt sets in, something more comfortable than panic and safer than feeling content, because when he wakes up he absolutely won’t be okay no matter what.

“no, dewah, i think i won’t go to bed if you don’t too."

fuck, please don’t start this. “i—no, ruki, you can’t stay up on account of me being emotional, i’ll be—”

haruki scoffs, though more at the stifling tension and the lie than at a’dewah himself. “fine? please don’t lie to me. don’t close off again.”

“b-but… it’s not fair to you,” he croaks out, finally, throat raspy and dry. “to keep asking you to care for me when i break down. you—you’re not supposed to constantly have to listen to me cry, not when it hurts both of us because listening to someone you love in pain is horrible, horrible work.” he had experience with listening—watching over someone as they writhed in pain and knowing there was nothing he could do but watch if he didn’t want to harm them. he’d done it a thousand times before, and would do so a thousand more so long as the world needed heroes and wars. walking around amaurot besides hanami and zaya nearly tore his heart in two because no matter how afraid of them he might be they were suffering the whole time and even when he was pulled from the rift by g’raha and could heal again he couldn’t stop their pain as they all valiantly fought emet-selch. “let me just be fine, let me learn to take care of myself.”

he doesn’t want haruki to have to care for someone broken as him when the dirty work could easily be done by himself. he might be a caretaker by—not by nature, but by experience —but even the most stalwart caretakers have their limits and by nophica’s grace he does not want to be the straw that breaks haruki’s back. if haruki ever got tired of him, because everyone gets tired of a stubborn crybaby eventually no matter how much they love the person they can be, he wouldn’t know what to do. he’s too reliant, acting like a child when really he’s an adult, and it isn’t healthy for either of them to be like this.

a’dewah doesn’t want to leave but if his solar flares of emotions are hurting haruki he’d rather jump into the ocean and be extinguished forever instead.

“well, most people learn best by example. breathe,” haruki says, quiet even as the storm outside his home rages. he takes as deep a breath as he can, listening to haruki breathe with him. “can you name one person, besides me, all of balefire, and the scions, that has shown you how to care for yourself?” 

haruki leaves him in strenuous silence as he thinks, still there but waiting. he almost says my parents, but the last time he saw them was when he was eight, long since buried and he’s nearly thirty-six now—and really, did the nunh of any tribe really care for his sons past their strength, of which he had none because khebica said he’d inherited their mother’s love for the elements. mahja and tahja were too busy trying not to be a burden for him, atoh and vahno were both too young and needed to be cared for first, khebica was taught to care for herself first after what happened to her, and he was the only one castrum fluminis wanted anyhow and they nearly broke him before he was eighteen so who else? tsukiko was still too afraid of yudai, louisoix had so many others to look for first, e-sumi-yan didn’t even know—

“...i. i don’t know,” he says, and the revelation nearly shatters him. even among the people haruki had him exclude, he’d only just started letting them fuss about his wellbeing, except... “you might—you were the first. for a while, the only person i let try. you were just too—too...”

“persistent? thank you, it’s one of my strengths,” he says, a smile leaking through the crackling connection that makes a’dewah’s chest stutter in its rise and fall. “and besides, when i first saw you in that rice paddy i seriously got worried ‘cause i saw kotone almost drown there that same day. you were so much shorter, too.”

“ hey, i w-wasn’t that short then.”

“were too. anyways, you kinda proved my point. let me help, because i want to, and i’m sure you’ll be able to do it on your own soon. i want you to get better,” haruki promises, and the words a’dewah turns over in his head have a cool warmth to them, like diving into the one river in summer. something distinct, grounding. loving. “and if it means i have to share your pain, so be it. i can take a fair amount.”

great; he’s going to cry again, all because haruki loves him too damn much and he doesn’t know how to deal with it all, an ocean’s worth of devotion and promises poured into his hands and leaking through his fingers.

“i—i did warn you that this stuff is horrible, right? i don’t want you to get hurt from my issues,” a’dewah murmurs, hands grasping uselessly at his cardigan’s sleeves and fingers cramping from it all.

“yeah, and? it’s you. there’s not a lot that can keep me from helping you, save this damned soul-ghost situation. no matter what comes up, you’re stuck with me for the near future.”

a shaky breath on both sides, trying to survive the last few tremors of a’dewah’s fragile temperament. fabric rustling on haruki’s end; good, he must be tucking himself back under the covers, albeit gingerly. the guilt might eat at him later, if haruki says he didn’t sleep well, but for now the weirdly soothing thought of you’re stuck with me smooths the prickly bits in his chest back down.

“i have an idea.” haruki shifts, horn with his linkpearl brushing against his pillow. maybe he’s looking out the window, or looking out his door to check if he’d woken someone up in talking sense back into a’dewah. “we can keep the connection open ‘til morning; i’ve got aether to spare and you’ve even more than i do, right? it’ll be kinda like waking up next to each other,” haruki says soothingly, even though it won’t be like he says because a’dewah won’t be able to turn over and laugh at haruki’s bedhead, won’t be able to lazily pull haruki’s arm over his shoulders and feel safe. “we’ve got similar sleep schedules. it shouldn’t be too hard compared to saving the world.”

“i—i know what you mean, but…” what if when i wake up hearing your voice but not seeing you beside me just makes it worse, he would say if he had the guts, but all of those had jumped out the window with common sense when he made this damned call.

and yet haruki just knows him too well and answers anyways. “hey, it’ll be fine. think of it this way; part of me is always thinking about you, even if i don’t realize it, so just think of me,” haruki says, and a’dewah already knows where he’s going with this but isn’t that a thing they all reserve for mune, who is starting to grow up faster than they can keep up with? “and i’ll be there with you, always, because i trust you with my heart—and if that isn’t enough, i’m still just a call away, right?”

“r-right,” a’dewah whispers back, eyes brimming this time not with pained tears but happy ones, not even knowing how much he needed that little bit of permission until now. his heart is finally settling, after three or four nights of restless searching, restless wanting , simmering quietly in its proper place rather than leaving him hollow and melting. “and... i trust you with mine.”

neither of them have to say it, but even with the rain pouring down by haruki’s window and the winds outside a’dewah’s the silence coming over the linkpearl finally feels calm.

haruki’s next yawn is loud, and a’dewah can hear the tension melt from his voice like frost in spring and silver dew from plants in summer. “d’you think you can sleep now? or… should i serenade—”

his voice is utterly wrecked, but he somehow manages to yowl, “i can sleep fine!”

haruki’s bubbling laughter rises with the thunder outside his house, filling a’dewah with liquid gold warmth—not molten, but soothing, comforting, home. no longer threatening to melt him from the inside out but strengthening, and he can feel himself blushing at the thought of warm hugs just like this even though it’s not all that much, in the grand scheme of things.

when both of them manage to calm down—haruki from his ever bubbling joy and a’dewah from his constant state of embarrassment when it comes to haruki—it’s not too much for a’dewah to rub his eyes one last time and simmer in the dark warmth sitting further inside his chest, no longer threatening to overtake him for now. not bright, like his magic and the light and the harsh sun. dark, like the sunless sea and the stars and shooting stars overlapping, even if two of those things aren’t quite dark.

for someone proficient in white magic, it feels safer in the dark than the light.

“i miss you,” he whispers even though he has a feeling haruki found a way to laugh himself to sleep—oh, no, his breath hitches when a’dewah hiccups in an ugly croak, gods why does haruki find him attractive despite all of this—thinking of teals and oranges and fireflies that light up the white scales lining haruki’s jawline. “and i think i always will, a little bit. i want to be yours forever.”

there, he’s said it; i want. the simmering, unknown dark cools off, no longer warbling his voice, and his eyes start to feel heavy as adrenaline bubbles away.

“i could say the same, dewah,” haruki whispers back, words fraying as a’dewah’s past few days of running catch up to him, finally. “i miss you too, but you’ll be back soon, so for now? sleep tight.”

and he does, the tinny sounds of haruki’s breathing evening out lulling him to his dreams where he isn’t so far away from home.

[supremeuppityone]

Written for Klaroline Valentine's Day Bingo 2020 @kcvalentinesbingo

Prompt: “A dare is a dare.”

Author’s note: This is the much-requested sequel to Chapter 63: Drowning Secrets in the Sea, found in my Klaroline series, A Beautiful Symmetry.

Warning: Casual references to drugs

Please review here.

           “This is your idea of an adventure?”

           Caroline whipped her head around, mouth curving up into a pleased grin as she took in Klaus’ rumpled appearance. “Your university’s still skimping on the travel budget, huh? You know, just because they pay for coach doesn’t mean you have to fly it.”

           “Not all of us can afford first class, sweetheart,” Klaus replied, pulling Caroline to her feet and playfully spinning her around the cramped basement.

           She kissed one of his dimpled cheeks, suddenly giddy and hopeful. He was here. She honestly hadn’t known what to expect when she sent him the artifacts and GPS coordinates. “Seriously? Just because I fly first class, doesn’t mean I actually pay for it.” At his amused chuckle, she allowed herself to press into him, his warmth and familiar scent washing over her. She’d missed him more than she’d cared to admit. It only had been a couple of weeks since he’d let her walk away, angry and hurt by what she’d done.

           “Are you still mad at me,” she asked tentatively, stepping away to give herself a bit of space for this conversation.

           He hesitated, running his fingers through his disheveled curls a few times before he finally spoke. “You pretended to be an archeologist to gain access to priceless artifacts that my father commissioned you to steal. You could’ve ruined my academic career — everything I’ve ever worked for.”

           She bowed her head, her heart sinking in her chest. Did he come all this way just to tell her off?

           “But then you also didn’t go through with it and came back to save my life,” he continued, his tone a bit shaky. “I’ve missed you every moment since you left,” he confessed, standing in front of her once more, his touch tender as he caressed her cheek. “And I’m tired of missing you, love.”

           Their kiss was nothing like their first one — while that night in the bar had been hesitant, now their kiss was frantic; fueled by the past deception and a tentative promise of forgiveness. He tasted like her future. And Caroline had no intention of walking away from it twice. “I missed you too,” she admitted, placing kisses along his jawline.

           It was when he started to untie the silken knot at her waist that she snapped back to reality. With a sigh of regret, she gently pushed away, telling him, “We’ll need to pick this up later — a business associate is meeting me here in a minute.”

           Klaus looked skeptically around the dusty room, asking, “What sort of business meeting could you have down here?”

           “The private kind.” She considered him carefully, bending down to scoop up a few dusty books and folders to shove into his arms. “So, I don’t want you to freak out, but we’re meeting a kind of go-between for a gunrunnermobbossguy — but don’t worry! He’s totally safe and I’ve worked with him before.” She winced as she saw his gray eyes grow wide with alarm despite the fact that she’d hoped her rapid-fire words wouldn’t really register.

           “Did you just say we’re meeting with a ‘gunrunner mob boss’? Bloody hell, Caroline!”

           She rolled her eyes, checking her watch as she corrected him. “He’s a go-between. He’s not actually a gunrunner mob boss. He just works for one.”

           “How is that any better? And how are you going to explain me? What’s my cover?”

           Caroline snorted. Klaus was adorable when he panicked. “Calm down, James Bond. You’re playing the role of a nervous archaeologist completely out of his depth. Something tells me you’ll pull that off beautifully.” At his grumpy expression, she impulsively poked one of his dimples, telling, him, “Where’s your adventurous spirit? You know you want to embrace it — otherwise you wouldn’t be here.”  

           “I’d thought we’d start with dinner,” he mumbled, a hint of a smile starting to appear the longer he looked at her.  

           “Perhaps you can postpone your plans a bit, mate? We’re on a bit of a deadline,” interrupted a cocky voice as heavy footsteps finished descending the stairs into the basement.

           Caroline instantly went into her work persona, adapting her stance and demeanor to best put Galen at ease. “Galen Vaughn, you slimy bastard, the next time you let me borrow a grappling hook, make sure you didn’t break off one of the ends on Kangchenjunga Peak.”

           His blue eyes crinkled with mirth, cuffing her on the shoulder as he said jovially, “You managed a’right, didn’t you, lass? If memory serves, you repaid me in kind when you sold me out to the Germans.”

           “Looks like it worked out alright for you — considering you’re now their go-between.” Sharpening her tone slightly, she decided to move the meeting along. “Tell me the specs and deadline.”

           “Two spear points about 12 centimeters each. Day after next.” He nodded toward Klaus. “Who’s this?”

           Caroline kept her tone light as she explained, “This is Klaus, my expert. He’ll authenticate on-site.”

           As though to make up for her non-committal introduction, Klaus sprang forward, shaking Galen’s hand a bit too enthusiastically. “I’m an archaeologist. I can identify artifacts from 3000 BC to AD 500. While my main expertise in in classical antiquity, I have completed extensive fieldwork in Bronze and Iron Age dig sites. In fact, I lectured extensively on the evolution of the battle ax and advanced smelting techniques. It actually was quite fascinating how groundbreaking their metalsmiths were...” he trailed off, somewhat self-conscious when he noted Caroline’s indulgent smile. “Anyway...I uh, like...old things.”

           Did Klaus purposely make his accent deeper because Galen has a Scottish accent? “Right. As you can see, we’ve got this,” she told Galen dryly.

           “I’m impressed you’d take such an eager partner,” Galen replied skeptically, “he seems quite green, lass.”

           Since it looked like Klaus was squaring off to punch a friend of one of the most dangerous mobs in Eastern Europe, Caroline hastily shook Galen’s hand, sealing their deal. “Day after next,” she told him solemnly. He left with little more than a curt nod, his jovial demeanor instantly replaced by a more disquieting nature. Such was the way of this business.

           “Bollocks. Between the dodgy codes and the wanker with the pretentious facial hair, I’m a bit lost as to our mission, sweetheart.”

           She cheerfully answered, “It’s no big deal — we just need to infiltrate a party tonight and steal some Bronze Age artifacts so we can sell them to this gunrunner mob boss I know.” At his incredulous expression, she winked and added, “And you have stubble too.”

           “Clearly mine’s better.”

           Caroline softened her tone, noting the wariness in Klaus’ gray eyes. “If you want out, I get it. No hard feelings, ok?”

           “It’s not that; I’d just like to know what I’m getting into.” His gaze was penetrating, as though searching for something. “Why put yourself in danger? There’s a larger gain than just riches, isn’t there?”

           She crossed her arms, not comfortable giving so much of herself away. But she needed to learn. “Mikael took my mother off the donor’s list so that I’d work for him. When I killed him, I lost my one chance to get her name restored. My only option is a black-market kidney and this job will get me the cash I need to make that happen.”

           The kiss he gave her was electric; it burned her all the way to her toes and she arched into him, a tiny little moan escaping. “Does this mean you’re in?”

           That devilish smirk of his was all the answer she needed.

                               _________________________________  

           The estate was stubbornly built on the marshes along the coast of the Baltic Sea, proving that even the immensely wealthy could be ignorant dipshits. Caroline critically eyed the tall rooftops of the main house and its surrounding buildings, the crooked lines wordlessly demonstrating that everything was slowly sinking, eventually to be reclaimed by the sea. She could feel Klaus tensing beside her, and she patted his arm affectionately. “Relax — the doorman is barely coherent after his wild night at the Hunter’s Mark. He’s barely going to glance at our invitation, and even if he did, it’s been expertly forged.” She gave him a sly wink, adding, “By me.”

           “How do you know what he was up to last night,” he whispered back, eyes darting around the ornate courtyard of marble statues.

           “Because I paid off his dealer to ensure he never ran out,” she answered matter-of-factly, favoring the pale, sweaty doorman with a sunny smile as she handed over the ivory parchment invitation she’d painstakingly threaded with gold along the borders to match the genuine ones. As she suspected, they were waived inside with barely a glance, and she smugly handed Klaus a champagne flute.

           “Impressive,” he murmured, casting curious glances around the immense ballroom with its 10-piece orchestra quietly playing chamber music.

           “Yeah, they’re pretty impressive. The Martins have been running drugs out of Kiel for decades; their territory is perfectly situated to take advantage of the port. They launder much of their profits with a string of online boutiques set up by the younger siblings, Greta and Luka,” she murmured, snatching a smoked salmon canape from a silver serving tray.

           Klaus seemed to slowly relax as he acclimated to his surroundings, a bemused look on his face as he eyed the cascading fountain of champagne flowing from a beautifully crafted ice sculpture in the center of the room. “I meant you were impressive, sweetheart. You’re brilliant, remarkably talented, and adventurous — enviable qualities the rest of the world only dreams of possessing.” He leaned in, his accented voice low and sexy as he added, “Not to mention your ethereal, utterly enchanting beauty.”

           There went her heart doing that fluttery thing again. He already was wearing the hell out of that Tom Ford tuxedo, but then to have him whisper those things — things that maybe she’d heard before but no one ever really meant — made her want to shove him into that gold leaf and pearl-tiered cake and lick the buttercream off.

           As though pleased she was rendered momentarily speechless, Klaus suddenly gripped her waist, spinning her onto the polished marble floor. His touch was commanding, but not forceful, which she appreciated. Almost as much as his smooth muscles underneath her touch.  The red satin of her dress wound its way between them as Klaus performed surprisingly intricate footwork.

           At her small gasp of surprise, Klaus flashed her a dimpled smirk. “I may have a few moves.”

           “Nice moves,” she said, a bit breathless as he led her through a reverse spin that had her momentarily crowded against his chest. She couldn’t help but rest her palm against his chest. Firm, but it was more than that — he felt like a steady person. Someone she could trust. “Mystic Falls, Virginia.” At his questioning brow, she explained, “It’s where I’m from. Well, we bounced around a lot of big cities when I was a kid, but that’s where we finally stayed.” She hesitated, unsure of how he’d react. It was a big step — and one she’d never taken before. “My mom still lives there...maybe, um, you’d like to meet her?”

           At Klaus’ stunned silence, she hurriedly backtracked, telling him, “No, I get it — it’s probably way too soon for that. I’vejustneverbeenlikethiswithanyone and I’m not sure what the steps are. But I can figure it out. Seriously, I can be good at steps. All the steps. Probably. It’s just that I need to head back there for a bit once we get our business here settled and her kidney secured and I know it’s a lot to ask —”

           “I’d be honored,” he quickly answered, kissing her soundly. “And it’s certainly not a chore to get to know you better, love,” he admonished when he broke the kiss, dipping her until she giggled with relief.

           Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a slight commotion as the aerial silk acrobats had arrived and were starting to set up in the main courtyard. Perfect. “Follow me,” she whispered in his ear, casually leading him down a narrow corridor full of priceless artwork resplendent with inlaid lapis lazuli and hammered silver frames. “While most of the guests are distracted, we need to get what we came for — two Bronze Age spear points.”

           They stopped in front of a tall glass case, admiring the artifacts perched on a carved ebony pedestal. “They were unearthed in the muddy riverbed of the Tollense Valley. It’s a unique find for the region, marking a significant battle around 3200 years ago. Archaeometallurgical studies have pinpointed the geological origin of the metals’ composition, which means you can trace the route these spear points took to get to the valley.”

           “Except determining the geological origin of the metals isn’t infallible when you take into consideration the various ore ingots used along trade routes as currency. So, your premise, while admirable, is flawed.”

           “My premise is flawed?! Are you seriously discounting all of the cutting-edge work Drs. Maxfield and Branson published in the American Journal of Archaeology? Or the Nordic Bronze Age metallurgy expertise of Dr. Hildegard,” Caroline hissed, feeling her temper rise. She’d just started to recite the latest research statistics on copper-based metals across Bronze Age Europe when she noticed the tips of his ears growing red. Suddenly, she burst into giggles at the ridiculousness of the situation.

           Klaus’ confusion gave way to amusement as he too started chuckling. “We’re never going to agree, are we?”

           “Nope. But where’s the fun in that,” she asked, leaning over to kiss him soundly on the lips. She broke off the kiss with a twinkle in her eye, sticking out her leg to take advantage of the deep slit in her dress in order to access her lock pick kit. She deftly worked at the enormous mechanism lock behind the glass case, rolling her eyes at the Martins’ foolish assumption that bigger was better when it came to security.

           The interlocking tumblers easily gave way, and as she carefully opened the glass door, Klaus murmured, “You make burglary sexier than it has any right to be, sweetheart.”

           “Sweet talker,” Caroline replied fondly, delicately sliding the spear points into the leather strap across her thigh. “If you’re lucky, I might let you help me remove these later. Artifacts require such a gentle touch, you know.”

           From that lustful gleam, it seemed he was ready to take her up on her offer sooner rather than later, but unfortunately, they had company. From the heavy black eyeliner and holdover grunge ensembles, she knew exactly who had found them. “Shit. It’s the Travelers.” She quickly pulled Klaus up a narrow staircase, explaining, “So, maybethere’s also this cult of crazy fanatics who are interested in the spear points. They’re convinced some ancient ancestor was a powerful witch who disturbed the natural balance and was cast out of her community.”

           With a troubled sigh that turned into a choked laugh, he pulled loose his bowtie as they hid out on a balcony, staring down at the courtyard very far below. “And what does that nonsense have to do with our artifacts?”

           He said ‘our’. It inexplicably filled her with warmth and she again had to tamp down those lusty thoughts. Action now — then some real action later. “It’s kind of hard to follow and has more embarrassing plot holes than a CW show, but supposedly there was a curse that had something to do with doppelgangers, massive earthquakes and possibly a boat anchor and they think these artifacts will somehow break the curse.”  

           He scoffed, but whatever skeptical diatribe he was about to begin was stopped short when there was a loud banging on the double doors to the room where they’d been hiding. Glancing over the balcony once more, he wryly asked, “Does your skillset include flying?”

           Following his line of sight, she spied some of the aerial silks the acrobats had hung for their performance. As the edges of the jewel-toned fabrics fluttered near the balcony, she asked, “Are you daring me to jump out this window and slide down a curtain?”

           Wincing a bit at the sound of wood starting to splinter from the psycho cult just outside, he told her, “Perhaps I found my adventurous spirit.”

           “Fine. But we’re jumping together.”

           Klaus smirked, grabbing her by the waist as they each clutched the sturdy fabric. “I suppose a dare is a dare.”

[bluepenguinstories]

Remoras Full Chapter X: Sunny D

Prologue:

We traveled to the rumored temple by canoe in what was a rather long trip, a few days minimum, but well worth it.

“Why couldn’t we have taken a plane? Don’t you and Ray have connections?” Complained my traveling companion. Indeed, we could have gotten a ride on the private airline that was in Ray’s name, but where would the fun in that be? I could picture Ray now, saying, “it’s not about fun, it’s about convenience. The fun comes later,” but that would have missed the whole point. For Demetria, who must have missed the point as well, I was there to remind her just what that was.

“As the old saying goes,” I raised my finger in the air. “It’s the journey, not the destination.”

“Yeah, well the journey’s been frustrating and boring, and the destination is likely to be dangerous,” she argued while slouched over on her end of the canoe. It wasn’t that long, or wide, of a canoe, but it got the job done okay; I sat with my knees up while due to her size, she had her legs stretched out as if she were about to lay down and take a nap (something she had already done many times. Could anyone have blamed her? We have been on this trip for the past three days).

“The destination will be dangerous! That’s the best part!” I got all fired up. Really, we must have been almost there, and just the thought alone made my heart race!

I remembered that just a couple days ago, she started to grow suspicious. Night had fallen and we were out in the middle of the ocean. We were in the same positions, with paddles idly in hand, and as she began to speak, I thought we were about to embark on ‘girl talk’ and have some fun banter, but instead she sounded irritated.

“You said this was a ‘girls night out’ or something like that?” She asked, her voice dull, listless.

“Sure did!”

“Oh, bother. I feel like I’ve been manipulated.”

“Aw, honey, why’s that?”

She leaned her head back. “When you talked about this trip, I expected we’d only be gone for one night. We haven’t reached our destination, have we? Unless you’re planning on just sleeping out in the middle of the ocean, then expecting me to paddle right back to the diner in the morning. Which, by the way, really? Do you think I have that kind of arm strength?”

I laughed my hearty laugh. Ray’s laugh could occasionally get up to my height, but mine just came more naturally, and more often.

“Don’t worry about that! It’s a two person job, and I’ve got more than enough strength to paddle for the both of us!”

“Good,” she spoke as she yawned. “Then you do it. I’m going to sleep.” With that, she closed her eyes and was fast asleep.

I blinked. Not a response I expected. If anything, it seemed more like what would have come out of Remora’s mouth. But, then again, I guess Remora had the arm strength that she would’ve just shrugged and done it. Things were different in Demetria’s case, but I had a feeling she had some strengths of her own that I was not yet aware of. After all, she managed to take down a supposed ‘cosmic entity’ and found her way back all the way up to the arctic just on intuition alone (and maybe some clever deductions). The way I saw it, my job was to find out just what those strengths were.

But in that moment, I took off my sweater vest, the same one I wore when the winds were harsh, as if a blizzard were about to descend on the open sea, and laid it over Demetria as she slept.

Ah, but that was just the other night. It must have been an easy mistake on my part, and the next day, after she realized that we were still on the sea, she seemed much more adjusted to it. Just yesterday, we shared a nice meal of mackerels. Sure, she grumbled about it and said that “I can’t eat my own kind” but after weighing the other options (there was a bag of peanuts, a sealed container of leftover clam chowder, bacon muffins, and salmon jerky, all packed underneath our feet), she gave in.

“Demetria, dear,” I turned to her. “I know you must be frustrated; you feel betrayed because you expected it to be one night out, and here we are, day two, and we haven’t arrived at our destination. I assure you, we will still have fun, and we will be back at the diner. Believe me, I think this could be a good experience for the both of us to get to know each other.”

None of those words seemed to register to her and the whole time she glared while her head swayed from side to side.

“How I feel…” She muttered. “Mostly, I just feel sick.”

Then, she leaned over the side of the canoe and threw up. After gasping for air a couple times, she looked at her hands, horrified.

“I can’t believe I did that! I’m seasick and it’s your fault! I’ve gone against everything I stand for! I threw up in the ocean and I ate fish! I’m a monster!”

Just like the night before, I was speechless. Out of all the things I expected, that was NOT it. But, if I could say anything, anything at all, I was enjoying the experience. Every little thing that she showed helped me to get to know her better.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. I didn’t know you got seasick! It…” Damn, I sure was the jerk in the situation, wasn’t I? Next time, I really would consider a plane or some other method, if that opportunity were ever to arise again. I reached down and handed her my canteen of water. “Here, take this. Drink slow, take slow breaths. Focus your vision.”

After she did so, it seemed like she was starting to feel better, although I was sure the bobbing of the canoe along with the waves didn’t help matters.

“How much longer, anyway? Until whatever it is you have in mind, that is.”

“We’re probably about halfway there,” I replied. “Trust me, it’ll be well worth it. We’ll have fun! Just a couple of girls hanging out!”

“Right,” she eyed me. “You’ve been saying that, but even if that were the case, I think I’d rather be at the diner. At least there I could see Remora.”

Ah, the other thing. The little suckerfish in the room, if you will. That lingering subject.

“Would you be okay with spending a few days out at sea with Remora?”

“Of course! Are you kidding? When can I? Sign me up!”

I tilted my head. “What makes her and I different?” It wasn’t that I needed to ask; I already knew the answer, but I wanted to understand her thought process.

“Well, for starters, she’s big and strong…”

“Wait! Hold up! I’m not big and strong?!”

She looked up and down, examined me, then gave a little “ah” sound.

“Yeah, no, you are too. So that’s not it. I mean, you’re fine. By yourself, you’re fine. Just having a chat, you’re fine. But you’re more like a mom.”

I spat out and laughed. “Well, I am a mom.”

“Oh yeah, huh? If Ray has a kid, you’d have to, too, wouldn’t you?”

“Um…” Usually I’d be more enthusiastic to talk about Elodie and send pictures, but that time, the enthusiasm just wasn’t there. “Yes, I am,” I smiled anyway. “But that’s beside the point! You don’t have to think of me as ‘the mom’, rather, you can come to me as a friend!”

She shook her head. “No, you definitely give off ‘Mom Energy’. I speak from experience with my own mom. She likes to drag me all these places and usually, I’d turn people down but she’d just be so pushy that I’d feel obligated to. I think if it were Remora in the canoe with me rather than you, it wouldn’t be because she dragged me to come along. If she’d want to be alone with me at all. But God, could you imagine? We could just sit in silence all day long, and that would be all I need. I could stare at her and she wouldn’t have to say a thing.”

I started to get the feeling that I put such a picture in her head and now she was fixated on the very thing. Unintentional, but I understood. If there was one thing I loved, it was love. More than that, however, I loved adventure.

So there we were, day three. My heart continued to race and my intuition kicked into overdrive. Following that, I pulled out a pair of binoculars and lo and behold! Land! Off in the distance, a massive volcano. Now, once we were a little closer, it would seen so obvious what we were approaching, but I couldn’t wait that long.

“Hey! Demetria! We’re almost there!” I nudged her.

“Wah!” She jolted up. Hand over her chest, she started hyperventilating. “That...that’s not cool! I was just about to nap again! What gives?”

“What gives?! We’re almost there!”

“Really? Dope.”

“Yeah! Let’s get to paddling!”

Whatever brief glimpse of joy she might have had seemed to diminish as soon as I said the word ‘paddling’. She groaned the biggest and most exaggerated groan I’ve heard in a long time. However, she must have known that it was a necessary step, as her hands were on her set of paddles and she was just about to start up on rowing. Then, we both felt a thud as something bumped into the canoe and knocked it off balance.

“What was that?!” Demetria started to freak out.

I peered over the water and noticed the unmistakable outline of a shark.

“Now, don’t panic,” I urged her. “But there’s sharks right underneath us who probably find this little boat rather curious.”

“Don’t panic?! Are you serious?! How am I supposed to not panic?!”

Okay, point well taken.

“Here, grab your paddle and start hitting them with it.”

She glared at me and pointed at her arm. Yes, I knew what she was telling me.

“Really?! At a time like this?!” Now I was the one working up a frenzy. “Can’t you work up an adrenaline rush or something?!”

“I’m not about to hurt a shark! They’re precious! It’s just a misunderstanding!”

Again, the sharks bumped into the canoe and almost tipped it over. Demetria let out a little squeak and just about fell over along with our canoe. I helped her up.

“Here,” she relented, handing me her paddle. “Be gentle with them.”

I nodded. “I’m just going to bonk their noses a little!”

True to my word, I fended off the sharks the best I could, but this only served to provoke them further.

“Um,” Demetria spoke up. “Do you have any more mackerel?”

“Now’s not the time!”

“If you do, throw the rest in the water!” She yelled, and then, it clicked. So, out of my pocket, I fished up the bag of mackerel and threw it into the water. The sharks must’ve picked up the scent, as they rushed over to the mackerel in the distance.

“That should buy us some time. Good thinking, Demetria.”

“Yeah, whatever,” she looked away and groaned.

“Now, can you swim?”

“Can I WHAT?!”

“We’re going to need to abandon ship.”

“No, I can’t swim!” She protested. That threw me off as well. Damn, she was really good at that.

“Really? How come you never told me?”

“Because I didn’t think I would have to!”

I sighed. Looks like it couldn’t be helped.

“All right, time to get on my back.”

She shook her head with such an intensity that I had to believe that’s what her all her adrenaline ended up being spent on.

“How are you going to swim while also carrying me on your back?”

“You’re small, and I assume you don’t weigh much, so…”

She groaned. No other word spoken.

“Come on, we’re already close to land, and this ship’s not going to make it.”

“Fine. But if I drown, I’m taking you down with me.”

Such confidence. Well, no matter. I crouched down and she got right up. Then, I took the leap. It didn’t register to tell her to hold her breath, nor did it register to her. So when we sank below, only for a few seconds, the moment she came up, she started coughing. Her grip was beginning to loosen and we hadn’t yet moved.

“Hey, hey, hold on tight.”

The coughing continued and she spit out water. Then, she began to sound out the words.

“I…” Then, a gasp. “I...I hate you...so much…”

She managed to stop coughing. No longer gasping for air, her breathing returned to normal. She was quiet the whole way, even when I picked up speed. Really, she didn’t weigh much at all. Light as a feather. Or maybe it was just the fact that I’ve carried far heavier things on my back before. But I wasn’t slow, not like a turtle. Rather, one could go as far as to call me a camel. Now, the pertinent question may be whether or not there was such a straw that could break my back.

I:

Once we made it to the shore of the island, we both fell over.

“Well, that was fun, wasn’t it?” I started laughing. I looked up and saw her shaking hand raise, then, she formed a thumbs up.

“That’s the spirit!” I cheered. She groaned in response, as usual.

“Just let me lay down for a bit,” she croaked out the words.

“Sure!” I leaped to my feet. It was about time for me to stretch. After all, I didn’t wanna get any cramps or anything like that. Plus, it’s just good habit.

After I got done stretching, I turned to Demetria.

“Are you dead?” I asked.

“Not yet…” She picked herself up, already looking exhausted. Of course, when we were confined on that canoe, there weren’t many opportunities for her to shine, but now that we were on land, I couldn’t wait to find out what she was capable of.

“Um…how do you stretch?” She asked.

“Oh! Good question! So let’s try something simple! Like, bring one arm across to the opposite shoulder, and hold it there.”

Just as instructed, she held her arm over her shoulder. She stared at me the whole time she did so.

“Just like that?”

“Yeah! Now the other arm!”

Again, she held on, then, her eyes lit up. “Wow! I can feel my power level rising!”

“Really?” I couldn’t hold back my excitement.

“No,” she replied, returning to a deadpan expression.

Note to self: she didn’t seem to know the importance of stretching. That’s okay, though! I could teach her!

“Well, are you ready for the girls night out? We’re going to explore an ancient temple and look for treasure!”

I looked up, and off in the distance, I could see the volcano. Daylight was still upon us. By the time we reached the temple itself, dusk may yet greet us. All the better. Once we were done, maybe daybreak would return, and we could make our way back home.

“Wait, that’s your plan? Can’t we just hang out on the beach and sip on coconut milk?”

“Come on! There’s not any coconuts on this island!” Oh, that silly Demetria.

“Yeah there is! There! And there!”

I was already way ahead of her, but that got me thinking: what would we have done with coconuts, anyway? She ran up to me after noticing how far ahead I was.

“Okay, so, what’s the plan?” She asked. Either eager, or just wanting to get things over with. Either way, valid.

“Let’s see...we’re going to scale up the mountain trail, walk across an active volcano, then head into the ancient temple. Once inside, we’ll avoid all the traps and pitfalls, make it to the end, and take the ancient artifact. Simple stuff, really.”

“That’s...okay, yeah. I don’t even know why I’m surprised anymore.”

That’s the spirit! Now she finally gets it!

We headed up the mountain trail. I was somewhat of a natural when it came to those kinds of things. Demetria, on the other hand, was lagging behind. But this time, rather than complain or show her difficulty, she trudged on.

“So we’re going across a volcano, right?” She called to me.

“That’s right. There’s a bridge that’ll take us across.”

“You know, my cousin’s wife is a volcano.”

“Really? Is it because she’s hot?” I joked. Though, now I was curious what her cousin’s wife looked like. Oops. Active mind.

“No, nothing like that. Even if she wasn’t tangentially related to me, I wouldn’t be into her. I just meant that she’s named after a volcano. Pretty crazy, though, right? Like what kind of person names their kid after a volcano? Now, in my family, a lot of people are named after trees, which is weird, too. When I was attending university, geology wasn’t my field of study, but I’m pretty sure that magma runoff from an active volcano could destroy a tree. What do you think?”

What I thought...what I thought…

“Are you always this dorky, Demetria?” I couldn’t hold back all of my laughter.

“No. Well, shit. Maybe? Oh well. That was my attempt at making conversation. I’ll shut up now.”

“Aw, don’t be like that! I thought it was cute!”

“That’s such a mom thing to say. Let’s just get a move on.”

Yet again, she was a tough nut to bust. Every time I thought we were getting somewhere, she’d turn away. That wouldn’t deter me. By the time we were done with our trip, I was certain I’d be able to see her in action.

Once at the summit, we saw the bridge. The heat was at its worst up there, but I saw it as a nice change of pace from the usual climate of the arctic. Demetria didn’t see it that way.

“Goddamn hot!” She cried out. I turned and saw her wipe her forehead. It must have been covered in sweat.

“It’ll cool down once we go across the bridge,” I assured her. I went in front so she could see how it was done. “Now, don’t look down, hold onto the rope, and keep moving forward.”

“I hate it how in movies they tell you not to look down, ‘cause that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

“Just follow behind me,” I turned my head. She nodded.

Each step, the wood platforms underneath us creaked, and the bridge swayed to and fro.

You know, now that I think of it, I don’t think this is bridge is meant to hold two people at once. Maybe at one point it was. Hmm...I better keep this in my head and not jinx it.

With each passing step, I could feel her hesitation. For me, this was just like walking anywhere else, but I had to imagine she didn’t walk through that many bridges suspended over active volcanoes in the past.

“How you doing back there?”

“I’m not looking down...I’m not looking down...I’m not…”

“Yeah? Good!”

“Hey! You broke my concentration!”

“AAAAA –!” She must’ve looked down, for what came next was stomping against the wooden tiles and I had no choice but to run to the other side, just to keep from her bumping into me and potentially knocking both of us over. I managed to make it to the other side. Demetria, however, stood stunned on the bridge. Just a few steps away from the solid ground I stood on, but she was too frozen in fear.

“I can do this...I can do this…” She looked around, first her right side, then her left. Then, she looked down. “THIS IS NOT COOL!”

She held onto the ropes on each end and started to shake them in place. As she did so, the bridge also swayed.

“Careful! You could really break the suspension that way!” I cautioned.

She stopped shaking the ropes. Although still frozen, and hyperventilating, it seemed like she had calmed down to some extent. I could feel a smile spread across my face. I wanted to extend my arm forward and raise my thumb up.

“Okay…” More deep breaths. Very loud, audible, deep breaths. “I can do this.”

I watched as she held onto the ropes which kept the bridge suspended and used them to lift herself up, then she swung herself forward and inched her way closer to me.

Hmm...that’s not half-bad.

But just as she was about to take another swing and reach the end, the rope on her right started to snap and I could tell she was about to fall.

No! Just one more step and she would have had it! I reached out for her and grabbed onto her hand. I pulled her toward me and got her off the bridge. As she stood with her head down, she mumbled something.

“What was that, dear?” I asked.

“Thank you…” Her voice sounded so grim, like me saving her life was somehow a bad thing. Before we moved on, I noticed the unspeakable happen: the bridge we both crossed collapsed right in front of us. The crackling noise made Demetria turn around and her shock rang throughout the air.

“NO! How are we supposed to get back home now?!”

“Hey! Hey!” I patted her shoulder. “It’ll be okay! We’ll figure something out! Something usually turns up eventually!”

“Maybe so…” She still sounded so glum. “Let’s get a move on, then.”

I know she’s glum now, but by the end of it, she’ll be peachy keen! I’m sure of it because I always get that way after I’ve explored a place full of death traps and find ancient treasure, so it’s gotta be the same for her! I just gotta be patient and keep my chin up, cause I’m sure she’ll come around!

We walked our way down and it was as if a glow shone down from the heavens and illuminated our destination: the ancient temple.

“Look! Look!” I pointed with such aggression, no, that was the wrong word. Passion! With such passion, such excitement, such amaze!

“Oh yeah, huh? Some old building. Wonder if there’s any squatters living there,” she commented.

“That’s where your mind goes? I think it’s romantic! How it just shines so bright, like it’s waiting for us to go inside!” I placed my hand over my chest.

“Romantic? Don’t you have a husband?”

“No, that’s not it! Romantic, like...those old adventure stories, you know? Like when an adventurer finds buried treasure and seeks far off lands! It’s just so dreamy!”

“Huh? Is that so?” She asked.

“Yeah! Let’s run down and check it out!” I was all fired up. That’s how it was with me: the closer I was to the destination, the faster my heart raced. At all times, I sought such excitement.

“Hey! Slow down!” Demetria called out to me. Too late. The Sunny Express was full steam ahead. “It’s too steep! You’re going to slip!”

Oh. I didn’t even consider that! I skidded across the rocky path and almost slipped, as if she had placed some kind of slipping spell on me.

“Good call!” I raised my fist.

She hunched over and tried to catch her breath. Ah, she must have been running as well and ran out of breath. Her shaking hand held up a fist, which then formed into a thumbs up. “Let’s keep going,” she wheezed.

Well, looks like she’s at least more open to this now, I thought as I smiled. “Yeah!”

In order to get in, we had to duck under a fallen stone pillar. Such a thing was actually easy for her. As for me, I had to practically crawl on the ground just to get through. But that’s okay, I liked getting my hands dirty!

Once inside, we were surrounded by a great darkness.

“I knew these contacts weren’t going to cut it,” she murmured. “But I can’t be badass wearing glasses, can I?”

I mean, yes you can, but I guess I see the point. If you do some crazy acrobatics, chances are they’ll fall off and possibly break. Maybe that’s what she means.

I walked over to the wall and felt my way around. Next to me was a torch. Well, what could have been a torch, if it was lit. Which meant it was an unlit torch! Yes!

“Hey dear, got any matches?”

“No. I used them all up back at the mansion.”

“Hmm…a lighter, perhaps?”

“I don’t smoke.”

Ah, how nostalgic. Reminds me of the first conversation I had with Ray.

“Guess I’ll have to do this the old fashioned way…” I flicked the torch against the wall and watched as the tip caught fire.

“Bingo!”

“Oh cool!” She stared in awe. “Let me try!” She went up to the wall closest to her, jumped up, grabbed a torch, then tried to brush the torch up against the wall. Nothing happened.

So instead, I watched her drop it, as if her one hope for enjoyment had been taken away. In its place, she stomped on it.

“What gives?! I can strike a match but not a torch? I really am useless!”

I went up to her and with my free hand, I gave her head a pat. “Now, now. It takes practice. Besides, sometimes the wood itself is no good. I think in my case, I just got lucky!”

“Still…”

“Can’t you walk?”

She nodded.

“Then you’re not useless! That’s all you need to do!”

No comment came from her, but we continued to walk on. As we walked, a thought cropped in my head that could cheer her up.

“So, tell me about this crush of yours.”

“Is it that obvious?!”

I let out a laugh.

“To me, it is.”

“Also, who opens up with that out of the blue? Like, ‘anyway, how’s your sex life, Mark?’ Nobody talks like that!”

“Sorry, if it’s that sensitive of a topic for you, we can drop it.”

“No, it’s fine. How did you know, anyway?”

I looked up and closed my eyes, unable to resist the urge to smile. “I was in love once, too...” I reminisced.

“W...What? Once? You aren’t anymore?”

“...And I still am,” I concluded.

“What the fuck? Who talks like that?”

To answer the question about how obvious it was, maybe it was the fact that I’ve experienced similar things. Or maybe it was just a few days ago, back at the diner, that really made me catch on to how bad she had it.

The few days spent back at the diner after Demetria’s return from the mansion consisted of her recovery. She complained of soreness every waking hour and walked in slow, stilted motions. I recalled the shower being used a lot more often than the last time I had been there, as well. Which only made sense considering how long I had been away and all the people who had moved in since.

Really, it seemed like I had become a stranger; I had memories of the diner being full of life, but during those times, the back would be calm and quiet. Only Ray and I. Now it was like the opposite and neither Ray nor I had an explanation. All of that wasn’t to say that I disliked such changes. In fact, I welcomed new faces and new opportunities for adventure. It was just an adjustment.

One thing that didn’t need adjusting however was my sense of adventure. I was just waiting for the next spark before I departed once more. True, I told Ray that I was planning on staying for a while after having been gone for almost a year, but he must have known me well enough to know that I couldn’t resist. When that time would come, I’d tell him that I wouldn’t be gone long. Seemed like a fair compromise.

“Feels strange, doesn’t it?” He was back at the desk which he had given to Remora after declaring her leader. Guess he too had things he couldn’t keep away from. “We’ve been at this side business for years, practically building up an empire through it.”

“Yeah, maybe I was too hasty with that,” I shook my head and sighed. “I was just worried, you know? When you told me Demetria had no special skills and she went and risked her life, I thought the worse. Not to mention the wildfires I saw. At the time, I thought she could have been caught in the middle of it.”

He did a little one-armed shrug, something I didn’t even see him do before. Guess he picked up a couple of new quirks in my absence.

“I’m sure if I was in your position, I would have reached the same conclusions. No need to fret, my love.”

Oh my. It was on now. I couldn’t just let him get the upper hand in the Terms of Endearment Department. Everyone knew I held the title of Lord of Romanticism and I wasn’t about to give my title away.

“Who says I’m fretting? Now I can make memories closer to home, where I know they’ll be the most vivid. Because after all, home is where the heart is, and you, my Ray of sunshine, are my home.”

I leaned in and brushed my nose against his. He opened his eyes slow, his little mole-like eyes, and we exchanged a look which we only exchanged when we were about to give each other the most passionate of kisses.

“Ew. Ew. Ew. Get a room you two!” Interrupted a voice of disapproval. We both turned and saw Demetria seated against the wall. She had her arms crossed, which she only unfolded to give us both a thumbs down. Ray and I looked back at each other, then back at her, and the two of us laughed.

“What’s so funny?” She scowled. “I’m being serious! Couples are gross and should be banned. Why can’t you two get a hobby?”

Once again, Ray and I gave each other a look. This time, a rather sly look.

“Oh, but dear. Ray is my hobby,” I teased. Ray nodded.

“And I’m quite good at Sunny, if I do say so myself,” he added.

“Please, I always bring my Ray-game. Nobody’s as good as Sunny at Sunny,” I argued.

“LA! LA! LA!” She yelled while covering her ears, which prompted Ray and I to burst into laughter once again. Ah, I sure missed how fun it could be to tease others.

Before we could keep it up, the door to the front opened. In walked Remora, who also had her arms crossed. But in contrast, she was hunched over and shivering. Next to her was Tigershark in all her glory. She raised her hands up and announced.

“I CAUGHT A BIG ONE!”

Demetria looked over to the kid. “A big what?”

“I don’t know the name but it was big!”

Ray leaned over, one hand on his chin. “And how fares you, my frigid friend?”

“Couldn’t you find another way to describe me?” Remora groaned. “Anyway, I’m just chill. I went hunting for elk while Tigershark went fishing nearby. Now I am here. You should turn the heater up, by the way.”

“You know that won’t do you any good,” he reminded her.

“Bluuuuh. Can’t you be helpful? Get me a heated blanket.”

“Oh!” Demetria leaned close to Tigershark. “So you caught a fish! I probably could’ve told you what it was!”

“Yes! And then I ate it!”

“No! How could you? Now I can’t identify it! Tell me what it looked like!”

“It had fins and a tail!”

“That could be anything! Gah!”

“Jeez,” Remora chimed in. “If I knew it was so important to you, I could’ve just taken a picture of it.”

“You would? If you did, I would treasure it! But...don’t worry! You’re more important!”

“Why?” Remora looked confused. Demetria shared the same confused look for an instant, likely pondering her own statement, before her eyes lit up once more.

“Because! You’re you! You’re cool!”

“Blame it on the weather.”

“No!” Demetria got up and stood on top of the chair. “You’re cool no matter where you go!”

“Jeez. No need to rub it in…”

“That’s why I –” Before Demetria could finish whatever it was she was trying to get out, she lost her footing and fell onto the floor, lying on her back.

“Are you all right?” Remora asked, without a hint of concern in her voice.

“I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!” Demetria cried out in an almost Shakespearean manner.

“Do you want me to call a medic?”

“No! You have no choice but to walk on me!”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because I’m taking up the whole floor!”

“No you’re not. I could just walk around you. But if you’re in that much pain, you should have a medical professional take a look.”

“It will take too long! You have no other choice but to step on me!”

“Or...I could just help you up?”

Demetria paused. No more zany outbursts. Then, in a lowered tone, she spoke once more.

“Actually...I think I can help myself up...I don’t know what I would do if you held my hand even for a second…”

“Okay, then,” Remora walked off.

As soon as Remora went into her room at the end of the hall, Demetria picked herself up and went back to the seat.

“So were you just acting?” I blurted out.

“My back really does hurt like a motherfucker, but I also may have exaggerated a little because I lose my mind whenever she’s near.” If nothing else, I had to appreciate her honesty. But then my eyes darted over to Tigershark, who was still standing near Demetria and seemed to be mouthing out the word ‘motherfucker’. I gasped.

“What are you saying, kiddo?” I tried to keep my voice down.

“Motherfucker!” She declared. Yeah. Thought so.

Demetria turned her head and covered her mouth. “Oops! I didn’t know you were still there, I swear!”

“Can you unlearn that word, dear?” I kept my attention on the little shark.

“Okay! I’m going to go make a spaghetti now!” And with that, she waddled off to where I presumed was the kitchen. Ray sure did turn Tigershark into some sort of cooking prodigy, even if it didn’t stave off her energy one bit.

With Tigershark gone, I focused my attention once more on Demetria.

“So, how ‘bout those muscles of yours?” I grinned.

“Who? Me? I’m flatter than a slice of pita bread.”

“Still, you must be pretty amazing to do what you did back at the mansion, don’t you think?”

“Oh yeah, huh? It’s gonna take more than an incomprehensible space alien to keep me down! Of course, I only did it so I could prove to Remora how good I was. It’s just too bad now that I won’t get any other chances. Feels like I really screwed up that one.”

That was right. The one who I thought had no special skills did something that for just a minute astonished even Remora. To take on something called a ‘cosmic entity’ (whatever that meant) and live, that couldn’t have been a small feat. Then, a spark ignited within me which I just couldn’t tame.

“Who said you won’t get any other chances?” I asked, a smile spreading across my lips.

“Aren’t we no longer taking requests?” She recalled.

“Oh, I must have misspoke. We’re just taking a short break from them until you recover. Once you’re all healed up, we’ll get back to work, and you’ll be invited to take on whatever you’d like.”

“Really?!” Excitement leaped from out of her voice. “In that case, I’m all better now!”

I laughed. “Let’s give it at least a couple weeks, yeah?”

All the excitement she had evaporated in a heartbeat. “Fine…” She groaned, then walked away. Probably to her room.

Which left me all alone with the hubby. Now it was his turn to ask:

“Really?” He looked up at me.

“Come on! Aren’t you the least bit curious?”

“About what? You need to plant a rumor in order for it to bloom.”

“About this whole ‘cosmic entity’ nonsense!”

“Hun, it’s not like you or I are going to find one just by wandering around.”

“No, not that! I hadn’t even heard of those things until Remora mentioned them, but just the fact that they’re apparently some dangerous creatures and yet Demetria faced one and made it out? I’ve got to see her in action!”

“You’ve got to remember. Our frosty friend has dealt in things such as alternate universes and time travel. The things she’s encountered most people will never see or even hear about. Still, it reminds me of that old billionaire we once cheated out of his money.”

“You mean Mr. Chambers?” How could I forget something like that? That was one of our more memorable escapades. “Wonder what ever happened to that guy.”

“Last I heard, he became a marriage counselor, then passed away shortly after.”

That made sense, in a sort of topsy-turvy way.

“Anyway,” Ray continued. “He’d rave about that sort of thing. Far off lands, strange beings. All that jazz. The unfortunate thing is that unless we encountered such creatures ourselves, there’s no way to tell just how dangerous or not they are.”

“Okay, I hear ya, but I got a good feeling about this. There must be something more to Demetria that neither of us are aware of and I want to find out what.”

“What do you have in mind?” He asked, although at that point, I assumed he already knew what my proposal would be.

“I’d like to take her out for a bit. You know, girls night out. That’s all.”

“All right, honey. Just don’t overdo it.”

I gave him a hard pat on the back.

“No worries, I won’t be gone long!”

“That’s not what I mean. But in any case, have fun, and I await your return.”

I wasn’t quite sure what Ray meant and I didn’t bother to ask him to elaborate. After more than two decades of marriage, I figured we both knew each other pretty well, so I’d just figure it out eventually.

In any case, the following day, I brought my proposal to Demetria and thus our trip began.

II:

We continued our small talk while traversing the temple.

“How much do you know about Remora?” I asked. “By the way, watch out for that vine.”

“Huh?” She asked, about three seconds before getting hit in the head with a vine.

Oof. I should’ve been quicker to warn her.

“Uh. Plenty,” she replied. Not about the vine, but that must’ve been obvious. “I know her hair is red, she’s taller than me, she has muscles, she lives in the arctic. I know she’s too cool to approach and that she can kick my ass.”

That was plenty, but at the same time, nothing.

“That’s all?”

“What do you mean ‘that’s all’? That’s a lot!”

“But, like, what are things she likes? Or dislikes? Do you know much about her life outside of what you’ve seen?”

“Yeah! There was that job she had and apparently her coworker pissed a lot of people off and then that coworker died and people are still pissed off!”

Gee, I wonder who she’s referring to.

“Oh, huh. Do you know what Remora’s job was?” I pressed.

“No, but I bet it had something to do with being badass!”

You’re not wrong there. I almost want to say ‘the less you know, the better’ but I think it would be good to know. I just don’t think you need to hear it from me.

“That’s all?”

“Oh, come on! What else do I need to know?”

“I don’t know, you tell me. Aren’t you the one interested in her?”

“Oh...well...I…” She froze up, as if I had caught her in a trap. “I never said I was interested in her!”

“Oh? Why not?”

“Err...well, I’m passionate about her, and most of the time, she’s the only thing on my mind, so maybe I am interested.”

“Then wouldn’t you want to get to know her?”

“Not really.”

“What about when you were interested in marine biology? Didn’t you want to learn all you could about marine life?”

Yeah, but that’s different!”

“How?” I pressed on.

“I’ve never been interested in people before.”

Now, there could have been a couple of takeaways from me having such an interest when it came to the young woman’s feelings: one, I could have been trying to play matchmaker and had every intention of setting those two up. On the opposite end, it may have seemed like I was doing the opposite and wanted the poor thing to cease her pursuits, learn the error of her ways, and go back home. Neither of those were the correct opinion.

See, it was all about adventure. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, that kind of stuff. Who was I to say who was good or bad for who? Whether or not something would or could work out didn’t really concern me, either. Reality was much more plain and simple: I just loved love. But like a good weapon, in order to fully utilize love, it was important to refine it, make it sharper.

Daydreams were nice, but if you didn’t have a lot of details, such dreams could fade with ease. To that end, I would help her fill in such details and practice until she crafted herself a powerful weapon.

So no, I neither encouraged, nor discouraged the fixation she had, I just wanted to help her refine her approach. Who knows? In due time I could have watched as she held a mighty sword in the palm of her hands.

I was getting into metaphors but now I’m genuinely curious what kind of weapon Demetria would use if she had one. Oops. Guess now I’m the one daydreaming...hmm...maybe a bow and arrow? Or a hammer? Ooh! A chainsaw!

Click.

I swerved to my side as arrows passed me. On cue, I turned around to see Demetria, one foot over a panel on the floor.

“Are you okay, dear?” I asked.

“Those just flew past my head!” She gasped.

“Ah, the old ‘step on a panel, arrows shoot out’ trap. Oldest trick in the book. Gotta watch out for those.”

“You just moved out of the way without hesitation!”

“Yeah, ‘cause I’m used to it. You are okay, though, right?”

She nodded. “Actually...I think I could have caught one of them.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah. They were so close to my face that if I just reached up in time, I could’ve caught one.”

Interesting that she would think so. Gotta give her props for the confidence. But there was just one flaw…

“If you grabbed one, your hand would bleed from the friction. Even if you’d have survived since it didn’t pierce through you, you’d still be pretty badly hurt.”

“Maybe if I wore gloves,” she suggested.

“Ah! You might be onto something there! They would have to be strong gloves, though, otherwise it would tear through the fabric.”

To be able to catch one of those arrows...I wondered if such a thing was even possible. Considering the speed in which those arrows get shot, it seemed unlikely.

Still more likely to catch an arrow than a bullet.

“I think if you’ve got good enough reflexes, you would do better to dodge rather than catch,” I added.

She kicked the floor. “That’s boring. I want strong gloves.”

There’s a reason why the expression ‘you sure dodged a bullet’ and not ‘you sure caught that bullet’ exists.

We pressed onward through the winding maze that the temple was. Cracks along the ceilings made for nice decoration. Any day now, the temple may fall apart. I just hoped it had one more day left in it. Just a little further down and we would reach the end.

“You know, what we’re doing isn’t technically a good thing.”

“What?!”

“I’m basically a glorified graverobber. Think about it: if you were buried with something you treasured, you wouldn’t want someone opening up your grave and stealing it from you, would you?”

“Then why do you do it?” She spat out.

“Because it’s fun!” I answered with glee.

Our momentum was pulled to a halt once I noticed what was ahead. I held my arm out to my side to signal her to stop as well.

“What’s the holdup?” She asked. I held the torch out in front of me, to which she gasped. In front of us was a vast pit of darkness and we were right there on the edge.

“What are we supposed to do now?” She tugged at my shirt.

I leaned over and glanced to my left. That was when I noticed it. Aha! But then there was the matter of the torch. Oh, what a dilemma.

As I pondered a solution, I heard the sound of something rolling against the floor. I turned around to see a boulder headed in our direction.

“I was wondering when that would show up…” I remarked.

“This is not what I want to be crushed under!” She panicked.

Having to act fast, I threw the torch across the depths and watched as it landed on a platform on the other end.

All right! We won’t have to go far!

I grabbed her arm and pulled her toward me. We took to a thin platform along the walls and stood against it. As we inched across, we watched the boulder roll off.

“Whoa!” She began to wobble. I held onto her, my other hand held tight onto indentations on the wall.

“Find places to grab onto and move slowly,” I instructed. She nodded.

If anything, I think she’s got more of an advantage than me, what with our sizes. I’m barely able to keep my soles on the platform, so it’s more like I’m rock climbing. But she can keep her whole self on the platform no problem.

After several more slow paces, I made it to the other side and waited for Demetria to get there as well. At one point, I watched part of the platform crumble underneath and her foot slipped. But rather than fall, she growled as held on tighter and pushed herself back up. I wiped sweat off my forehead and smiled. Seemed like she’d be okay after all.

She made it to the other end and landed on the edge of the stone floor, right next to me.

Before we could celebrate, we both heard a crack. Her eyes widened as the ground beneath her broke apart and fell down below, just about taking her with her. I cried out as well.

Deep breaths. Deep breaths. My heart wouldn’t cease its pounding. Maybe it was the same for her as well. I looked down. Then, I saw her: hanging on to the side of the platform.

What was that about rock climbing?

I dropped to the floor and reached my arm down.

“Take my hand!” I called to her. As she reached up, inches from my grasp, I leaned forward so that she could grab on. Instead, she reached her other hand up. The indentation she had planned to grab onto broke off and her arm was left dangling.

She could pull herself up, but she might not have enough strength to. God damn it, why did I think going on this trip was a good idea? I put her through so much all because of some stupid suspicion and now she’s in danger.

As she reached her dangling arm back up, I jumped at the opportunity and reached out to her right hand and managed to take it. I pulled her up and brought her back to solid ground with me. Once she stood up, she glared at me.

“Let go of me,” she groaned.

I let go my hand. She sat down, silent, looking down.

“I didn’t want you to save me,” she murmured.

“Did you want to die?” The words escaped me. Me, the thrill seeker, wasn’t enjoying this particular thrill.

“No. That’s not it.”

I didn’t know what else to say. Still silent, she picked up a pebble and tossed it. My focus ended up drawn to how scratched up her arms and knees had gotten. To have experienced such a sting and not have that be her focus, it showed true...no. That wasn’t it. Not strength. She probably wanted to show that she was capable, and I had assumed (wrongfully so) that she was. Seeing her so scratched up like that conjured images of Elodie in my mind.

For that reason, I knew whatever I would say next would end up being tinged with guilt.

“I’m sorry,” I croaked out the words. “I didn’t realize you were ordinary…”

“That’s right,” she replied, devoid of emotion. “I’m ordinary. There’s nothing special about me. I get myself in these situations, naively so, and end up having to be saved by others.”

“I’m sorry,” I repeated. “I just assumed that because you survived the mansion, that you –”

“I almost didn’t. I only survived because I got lucky. If anyone else had taken on that mission, it would have been taken care of with ease. I know this. And those two would have survived…”

“Those two?” I tilted my head.

“I still see them even though they’re gone. Sometimes when I shower, or in my dreams, those moments replay. What happened to them. If I wasn’t ordinary, I could have saved them. Instead, I’m the one who keeps having to be saved. Time and time again.”

Her words sounded dry. I expected any moment for her to break down in tears, but none came.

“So yeah. I’m ordinary. But I don’t want to be.”

Damn it. Maybe I picked the wrong words to open up with when I said ‘ordinary’. I gotta rethink my approach here. Sunny is supposed to be a bright name, not something associated with bringing others’ spirits down.

“Lucky or not,” I stumbled through the words. “It was still quite a feat what you did.”

“Yeah. But those two still died. I’d hardly call that a victory.”

“I know things could have turned out better,” I crouched down next to her. “But I’ve made plenty of mistakes, too. I’ve gotten people hurt when I didn’t mean to. You can get better, though, I believe that.”

Do I? Why was comforting people so hard? Ray makes it seem much easier.

“Maybe so, but I still can’t keep up with you,” she replied.

“That’s something you can work on. Everyone at the diner has their strengths and weaknesses, so it’s all about finding what yours are and honing it in.”

“What if I don’t have any?”

“Come on! Don’t be like that!” I paused, then thought of something. “Why is it you don’t want to be ordinary?”

“Remora. She’s pretty much been my motivation for anything.”

Somehow, I am not at all surprised she would say that. More surprised that I would have to ask.

“Very well. What is it about Remora that makes her so special, anyway?” Oh gosh. The phrasing. I could’ve offended her then and there.

“It was when I first met her,” she said and I sensed no offense taken.

“Yeah?”

“It was at an aquarium. I was so anxious because I liked studying fish, but I didn’t really interact with people much. Let alone go out in public. So all those crowds of people really got to me. But then I saw her standing there, staring at one of the tanks with such a fixed expression. Like nothing around her mattered save for the fish she stared at. Maybe that’s why I was so transfixed, is because she seemed like the same as me, but better. Like the kind of person I wish I was.”

“Do you know what fish she was looking at?”

“No? Does it matter?”

Hm. I guess not. I was just curious. Maybe the kind of fish she focused on could’ve said something about her. But then again, it might not have been all that important, either.

“It was just that she stood so tall,” Demetria continued. “And cool in a way that I didn’t think I could ever be and I ended up losing all interest in my studies as my attention was fixed on the image I had of her.”

“Since that’s the case, may as well get to know her, right?”

“Ugh. That again? Look, compared to her, I’m a mouse. Besides, like I said, I’ve never cared much for people.”

“Not even your mom?”

“She’s too pushy.”

“Any siblings?”

“Yeah, but they’ve all got their own lives. Never really paid me much mind, and likewise, I’ve never seen any reason to get to know them. Don’t get me wrong, though. It’s not like I don’t think of people at all; I get first impressions of people, and that’s how they are to me. Nothing else.”

Ooh. My curiosity wouldn’t allow me to let that one go.

“Oh yeah? What’s your impression of me?”

“Mom,” she replied. “But not my mom. A mom.”

P’fft. Well, I’ll take it.

“Ray?” I asked next. It seemed like we began playing an unofficial game of twenty questions.

“Deceitful.”

“Tigershark?” “Annoying.”

“Remora?”

“Cool.”

I let out a good chuckle. “Well, you’re not necessarily wrong about any of those things, but there’s more to us than that.”

“Yeah, I guess...you don’t need to tell me that. It’s not like I don’t know. But maybe I just don’t consider it. But you’re right. You’re like a mom, but you’re also reckless and like to do dangerous stuff. Ray is deceitful, but he’s helped me out here and there so I guess he’s not always bad. Besides, he let me live at the diner, so I’m kind of in his debt. Tigershark is annoying, but...she’s a kid. Kids are like that.”

She drew a deep breath before commenting on the final person.

“Remora is cool and badass, but...I know little else. I wouldn’t even know how to try to know more.”

“How about just go up to her and say ‘I’d like to get to know you more’?” “That easy?”

I shrugged. “Worth a try. If nothing else, better than just flailing around and confusing her.”

“Yeah, maybe…”

“As for you being less ordinary, I could help you with that. Say, if you could choose any weapon to wield, which would you have?”

“Uhhh...well, at the mansion, I tried to pick up a sword, but it was too heavy.”

Aw, darn. And here I was thinking ‘she should get a sword! She deserves one!’

“There was also the sickle I looted off that Cronus guy, but had to part ways with that in order to leave the mansion. So...dunno.” She shrugged.

“Well, if you ever think of something, I know a guy who could forge something for ya.”

“What? Really?” She lifted her head up and looked much more excited and full of life. “I thought Ray was the guy who knows a guy!”

“Usually he is, yes. Ray had a guy, but now he doesn’t. So Ray is not the guy. But I know a guy.”

Demetria stood back up and looked more excited than I’ve seen her throughout the whole trip.

“Well, what are we waiting for? We need to get out of here so I can get back to the diner and brainstorm what kind of weapon I’d want!”

Heh. Well, whatever cheers her up, I suppose.

I stood up as well and smiled.

“Yeah. We’ve gotta be close now.”

“Hey, uh. Sunny?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Thanks. For the chats.”

“Of course. You can come to me any time.”

So together, we ran forth, with me carrying the torch. Turns out I didn’t need to keep carrying it, as the closer we got to the treasure, the brighter our surroundings became until we were in the final room and I noticed a series of torches all lit along the walls.

Scattered across were panels which similar to the one Demetria stepped on earlier, would shoot out arrows. Also, around the perimeter were gaps that could send people falling to their death. Still, far less dangerous than what came before.

What I didn’t notice was the treasure. I ran toward the pedestal at the end of the room and panicked. No matter how many times I looked around, felt my hands around the granular surface, there was no sign of it.

“What are you doing? What’s with the freakout?” Demetria asked from behind me.

“The treasure! It should be right there!” My head began to spin. It didn’t make any sense. It had always been there. “Last time I was here, it was right on the pedestal.”

“Last time? Wait. You’ve been here before?”

“Yeah. Why? Does that surprise you?”

“No. Never mind.”

I glanced over and noticed the treasure right behind the pedestal. I felt all the color return to my body and a sigh of relief washed over me.

“There it is!” I picked it up, its small handles nestled tight between my fingers.

“That’s the treasure? It’s just a cup,” Demetria sounded unimpressed.

“It’s not a cup!” I argued. “It’s a chalice, and an old king used to own it!”

“But now it’s ours!” Came a voice from behind us and the cocking of someone’s gun. Oh jeez, I knew who was there right away.

Demetria and I turned around to see a group of three men in suits, each carrying guns.

“You evaded us back in Italy, but I had a feeling you’d show up here,” spoke the leader, one Mr. Jerry Mander. “And what’s this? You brought someone with you?”

“No, actually, I’ve never met this woman in my life, I’m just a squatter,” Demetria fibbed.

“Silence! Sunny, hand over the chalice and both of you, hands up!”

I might have been able to take them if it was just me, but I wasn’t about to endanger Demetria any further. I did as instructed. Next thing I knew, his men tied us up and had us sit on the ground. Rather than outright kill us (as I’m sure they would have had I not given them the chalice) they spoke amongst themselves.

“Who are those people?” Demetria whispered.

“Oh, well, you know. When you’re in a business, you’re bound to have competition. They’re far from the only folks out there, too.”

“Okay, next question: if you’ve been here before, why not just take the treasure all those other times instead of getting us both tied up?”

“I was waiting for the right opportunity…” In truth, I kind of liked the idea of leaving things where I found them, but I should’ve known there would be others who would want to take such things.

I struggled to break loose, but they really tied me tight.”

“Psst,” Demetria whispered again. “I don’t know about you, but rope play is not my thing.”

“Not a kink of mine, either,” I agreed.

“So what’s the plan?”

“Nothing. I’m sorry. I really didn’t expect for them to show up. We should just wait until they’re gone.”

“Hey! Quiet back there!” Mr. Mander barked.

Demetria ignored the guy.

“I can’t wait that long. Those guys might decide to kill us, and another confession? Not how I want to die, either.”

“We’re kind of shit out of luck, kiddo.”

“Distract them.”

“What good would that do? And how?”

I mean, courage or stupidity, I admired that she wanted us to kick it into gear, but I really had nothing in the noggin. Oh well, I may as well indulge her.

I looked them right in the eyes, then uttered:

“Hey guys, there’s a giant spider on the ceiling!”

“What?” They all turned and looked up. In just a few seconds, though, they turned back to face me once more. “Nice try,” Jerry Mander gloated. “But we won’t be fooled so easily.”

“Hey boss, wasn’t there someone else next to Sunny?” One of the other two asked him.

What? Did I not notice? How?

I looked beside me only to find a bundle of ropes and no Demetria. But behind the pedestal, I heard rustling.

I don’t know how you managed to break out that fast, but you’re going to get yourself in trouble.

“Check around! She couldn’t have gotten far!” Jerry ordered his men, then walked toward me. “I swear, if you’re up to something, you’ll regret it.”

Trust me. I don’t know where she is, either.

From somewhere behind me, I heard a shrill scream. Jerry’s men ran over to check it out.

“Boss! There’s a piece of cloth down there! I think she fell down!”

My heart sank.

Crap. I know you wanted to be cool, but you just weren’t experienced enough!

Just as Jerry’s men turned around, I saw a hand come up and grab one of the henchman’s ankle, pulling it toward the gap. Although not strong enough to pull him under, it managed to budge him close enough to step on one of the trap panels.

At once, arrows shot forth and pierced the one who stepped on the panel. He shrieked, before crashing into the other henchman and knocking them both to the floor. Then, I saw Demetria struggle as she lifted herself up.

I was amazed, but more than that, shocked. That someone who I had declared so ordinary had managed to go to such lengths. Just a moment before, her and I were in agreement that she was ordinary.

I watched as she grabbed one of the henchman’s guns, then stood up, her legs shaking.

Jerry pointed his gun at Demetria, and my awe was short lived. Soon, she may have been short lived as well. Even still, she pointed the gun she stole right back at him.

“Knock it off, kid. You’re shaking. You’ve obviously never shot a gun before. You’re hesitating. We both know I can pull the trigger before you even have a chance to aim. Put it down and I might let you walk away.”

“You’re right,” she replied. “I’m not used to this kind of thing and I’m really nervous. Because of that, my fingers might slip at any moment.”

“You’re bluffing.”

“Maybe I am, but unlike you, I don’t value my life all that much. I’ve got less to lose.”

In spite of such a bold declaration, she seemed to heed his words and lower the gun. But, as she did so, she pulled the trigger and shot him in the foot. I winced as the shot rang.

“Oops! See? I’m such a klutz!”

“Argh!” He growled. His hands began to shake now. “That’s it!”

She swerved out of the way before he could fire.

“Now, if you want to walk again, I suggest you let us both free,” she declared. “Your men aren’t dead, but they’re hurt real good. We can both walk away from this. What do you say?”

He winced, tears began to flow. The pain must have really got to him.

“No way…”

She pointed the gun toward his kneecap. “Are you sure about that? I mean, I might miss, but I might hit something else. Who knows with me? I’m such a clumsy ditz!”

This almost seems like something Ray would do. Just who am I looking at here?

He looked up at her and shouted. “FINE! GO!”

She grinned. “Hey Sunny! Did you hear that?”

I nodded, grinning my best grin.

“Be careful, dear!” I cautioned. “His henchmen could still shoot you!”

“Oh! Thanks! Hey Jerry? Could you do me a favor and tell your men not to shoot?”

He growled, but obliged. “Don’t shoot them,” he groaned.

“Great! Thanks!” She ran over to me and began to untie me.

With wide eyes, I asked:

“How did you do all that? That wasn’t at all ordinary.”

“Oh, sure it was,” she brushed off. “They really didn’t tie me down tight enough. Plus, I already have experience climbing.”

“But you could’ve gotten shot.”

“Oh yeah. Sorry. I’ll try to be more careful next time.”

She finished untying me and I got up to my feet. Then, I grinned. “In any case, thanks!”

I went up to Jerry, who still looked ready to shoot us at any moment in spite of his injuries. “Say, how’d you guys get here, anyway?”

“Helicopter,” he replied.

“Cool, can we steal that from ya?”

No answer. How rude. After I asked and everything. Instead, he just handed me the keys.

“Thanks, love. I’ll come back for you guys after I drop off my apprentice back home. All of you look like you could use a hospital visit.”

“Don’t bother,” he growled. “I’ll call someone. The last thing I want is to be humiliated by Sunny and some pipsqueak.”

I shrugged. “Suit yourself. But don’t say I didn’t try to be nice.”

We managed to make it up a flight of stairs through a hidden passage in the back of the room, and the two of us ran outside where we took to our ride. Neither of us were experienced pilots (if only Cybele was around), but if anything, that was part of the adventure.

Epilogue:

In the evening, we returned to the diner, exhausted and hungry. Tigershark served us a big lasagna dinner, seasoned with parsley and coriander. With just a hint of lemon juice.

Demetria didn’t have any of it, complaining of it having meat in it. Instead, she took it on herself to toss together a salad and sat away from everyone else.

After I ate and had a shower, I sat next to Ray, taking in the silence of the evening.

“So Sunshine, how did it go?” He asked.

“It was interesting, for lack of a better word. She’s very inexperienced, but I learned a lot about her and she still managed to surprise me.”

“Really now? What I find most interesting is when Tigershark pranks her.”

We both shared an uproar of laughter.

“But for real, I’m curious how she might turn out in the future. I think she has potential, and I’d like to help her in any way I can.”

“How altruistic of you.”

As Ray and I were about to turn in for the night, Demetria ran up and approached us both.

“Hey Sunny?” She turned to me.

“Yes, dear?”

“I did as you suggested: I went to her room to talk to her. She was sitting on her bed, huddled around a blanket, shivering. I said hi to her and she said hi back, then I was like ‘hey, I was thinking of trying to get to know you better, if that’s okay with you’.”

“Yeah? What did she say?”

Her expression lowered as she recalled what happened next.

“Well, she said that wasn’t okay with her. I admit, I was kind of bad about it.”

“Bad about it? How?”

“Well...I said how I figured since you and Ray know a bit about her, that it would be okay if I did as well, and I know that was stupid, but it just came out. She turned to me and was like, ‘yes, and I hate that those two know anything about me.’ I tried to argue, like, ‘well, it doesn’t have to be anything big’, to which she replied, ‘let me make myself clear: I don’t want anyone to know me. I have the right not to tell you anything and you are not obligated to know anything about that.’”

Sheesh. I knew she could be harsh. No wonder her face dropped.

“Anyway, I was taken aback. I did something I didn’t want to do. I mean, she didn’t deserve it…”

“What?” I asked. Was it really something so bad?

“I stood there, unsure of what to say. She was like, ‘understand?’ and I nodded my head, but then I got defensive and asked ‘do you even want to be here?’ and it was in that moment that I knew I fucked up. It just came out.”

‘Do you even want to be here?’ I mean, true, it’s rather defensive, but I wonder about that. I mean, Ray and I weren’t forcing Remora here. She could leave at any time. But, knowing her, or rather, not knowing her, I had no idea how she’d answer. Maybe a straight up ‘no’?

“It wasn’t right of me, right?”

I didn’t know what to say.

“I mean…” I stammered. “We all say things in the heat of the moment, right?”

“Yeah. Right as I said it, it was like she froze in place. She didn’t really give a reply, and I felt like I had pissed her off. Hell, I would’ve pissed me off. So I told her I was sorry, and she shook her head and said ‘no, it was a valid question.’ Anyway, I’m not going to press her further on anything. If anything, me not knowing much just makes her seem more cool!”

“Well, you did your best. Maybe just leave her alone for a bit?” I suggested.

“Yeah. I’m going to bed anyway. That was a long girls night out.”

Once she left, I was alone with Ray once more. He gave one of his sly laughs.

“Welcome home, hun. Try not to meddle too much,” he chuckled once more.

I jabbed him, and we both laughed. Indeed, things have gotten quite chaotic in the best way possible. I mean, there was everything: laughter, drama, heartbreak, action, adventure, and intrigue. The only thing missing was a whole-ass cake shoved right into my mouth. God damn, I was still hungry.

[nomnomsik]

Do you do smut? If you do, could you do an implied one with yoongi? Or not. Don’t do anything that makes you uncomfortable!

Overcoming the Boundary

Word Count: 1.7K 

Trigger warnings: SMUT, Unprotected Sex (STAY SAFE KIDS), slight yandere themes, possessiveness. Please do not read if you are sensitive to these topics.

A/N: Nobody talk about this. I am fully 1000000% embarrassed. It’s so long I’m so sorry...;;;; YOONGI DOES THINGS TO MEAN OKAY?

The soft sounds of lips meeting echoed throughout the dimly lit bedroom as Yoongi intertwined his fingers with yours. You softly let out moans into the quiet night as he maneuvered his way through your lips and into your mouth. Leaning back, you gave him more access into your mouth, enjoying the feeling he gave you. The delicate cushioning of the blankets supported both of your knees as he nudged harder and harder. You supported yourself up as you hung onto his dress shirt that loosely covered his thin body. Yoongi kept interchanging the direction of his head as he continually kissed you, his hands caressing each side of your face, delicate and fragile.

Your head, overwhelmed by his onslaught of kisses, began to feel lightheaded. Directing pressure to his chest, you indicated a much-needed breather, separating yourself from him. As you took several breaths of air, your face was flushed in a salmon pink color, mouth wet with saliva. Looking up at your lover, his gaze was dark and his eyes cloudy. He quickly climbed on top of you, his mouth coming back onto yours, soft at first and then increasing with great intensity. You closed your eyes, feeling yourself dripping in arousal as Yoongi removed his lips from yours to gaze at your laid out figure.

“Y-yoongi…” you murmured softly, feeling a growing embarrassment that slowly overtook your body. “I’ve never done this before,” you admitted softly to him, a part of you scared of what was to come. Yoongi shook his head in understanding, the back of his hand gently running down your cheek.

“Neither have I.” He whispered, understanding the same emotions you were going through. Scared, but somewhat excited. It was something everyone went through and it was always something depicted as pleasurable. It was something people were willing to do to break their relationships, to cause their own downfall. But, it was also something that sealed relationships together. “Please promise me you’ll tell me if I’m hurting you, alright?”

You nodded, your face still burning in embarrassment. It still didn’t hit you that you were about to give yourself to another person.

“Do you want me to-...” He paused, staring at your clothes that still hung onto your body. You shook your head, ushering him to help you.

“I feel self-conscious being the only one undressing.” You confessed nervously, holding your shirt in front of your chest. Yoongi quickly lifted his shirt over his head, revealing his pale skin. His long and veiny hands worked its way down to his pants, unbuckling his belt and throwing it to the side, landing onto the ground. As Yoongi threw his last pieces of clothing onto the ground, he watched as you hid your face to the side, unable to meet his gaze. He scooted closer to you, gently turning your head to meet his eyes.

“Y/n, I need you to trust me. Will you let me?” He tenderly whispered, his voice sending a warm feeling despite the cold air. As Yoongi watched you nod, he didn’t move. “Verbally, y/n. I need you to tell it to me verbally.”  You licked your lips, feeling your face burn and mouth dry.

“Yes, I trust you. I want you too.” Your voice wavered in nervousness, as you shyly smiled up at him. Yoongi grinned, softly planting a kiss on your cheek. His fingers traveled down your thighs, making his way closer to your dripping arousal. You yelped, your hands instantly covering your mouth as his fingers grazed over the wet area.

“Y/n, this is going to hurt a bit. Tell me if it’s too much and I’ll stop.”

“O-ok.” You muttered, your arms finding its way around a pillow and squeezing it. Yoongi’s fingers sunk its way in between your folds, slowing moving back and forth. You groaned, your body unable to comprehend the stimulation that he was giving you. Yoongi worked diligently, stretching the insides enough, but cringing every time you verbally cried out in pain. You dug your head into the pillow that you held, muffling your cries. Even though you groaned in pain, you never told him to stop.

His two fingers were drenched as he pulled them out, seeing how your body relaxed again. You looked up from the lush pillow and before you could get a word out, Yoongi added another finger back in, causing you to buckle in pain.

“Wait-” you choked. But it was too late. Yoongi set a fast pace, his fingers sinking back and forth as you gasped, your hand harshly gripping the pillows. “Yoong-”  your eyes on the brim of tears.

“Do you want me to stop?” His voice broke through, but his fingers never stopping.

You shook your head, your voice crying out. “No no no, please please don't stop.” The sensation began to build between your legs as you desperately tried to sit up. Yoongi felt a push on his chest as you tried to separate yourself. “Yoongi… stop stop.” In an instant, Yoongi pulled his fingers out, eyes filled with worry.

“Are you alright? Was it too much?”  You shook your head, burrowing your face in his neck.

“No… I just- I felt like I was going to come…It was scary.”

Yoongi's eyes softened, stroking the back of your head. “Baby, that's alright.” He pulled you back, getting your eyes to meet his. “Just let it happen. It's supposed to feel good, alright?”

You laid back down onto the soft sheets as Yoongi hovered back over you. Your hands rested on his sides lined himself up with your entrance.

“This is going to hurt. Hopefully, it won't hurt that much.” He cooed softly. “You can grab onto me if that helps lessens the pain.”  Your arms wrapped around his neck as he slid into you, causing you to squeeze your eyes shut. It was burning. You grit your teeth as you held back a verbal response of pain.

“Feels weird.” You murmured, clearly experiencing a painful stretch. Yoongi waited as you shuffled around, finding a spot more comfortable than before. “Okay… I'm good I think.”

You looked up, seeing a small smile grace his lips despite the lack of light. To you, the silence of the night was romantic. It was personal and intimate. Yoongi leaned down, connecting his lips with yours as he slowly pumped in and out. As he disconnected his lips from yours, he remained intent on eye contact, watching your every expression. You moaned in bliss as the pain slowly subsided and was replaced with pleasure

“Yoongi…” you whispered. He looked back at you, stopping his slow pace altogether. Worry filled his face again, distraught if he had hurt you without noticing. His paranoia quickly dissipated as you stared into his eyes. “You can go faster.”  

Yoongi hesitated. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I'm sure.” You replied, without missing a beat.

His eyes widened and it was as if something went off in his head. His hands made its way down to your hips, tightly securing them in his grasp. With an intense thrust, he began a much faster pace. Much faster than you were expecting.

You tightly gripped his hair as he buried his face into the crook if your neck. You cried out in pleasure as he inhaled your scent, his nails digging into your skin. His brutal pace began to lose its precision, becoming much more erratic.

“Can't… I can't hold back…” he groaned, the euphoric pleasure becoming too much for him. “You're so beautiful. Everything about you. I love you.”  He kissed your chest, trailing it up to your neck and finally to your lips. “I think… I'm gonna- Can I uh…”

You nodded, tears streaming down your face. “You can come inside me.” You murmured, not caring anymore. Yoongi continued his rough thrusts, earning several delicious moans.

“Don't say things like t-that,” he stuttered, his hips following suit. “fuck that's really hot.”

After a few more thrusts, you broke down. You tightened around him as the buildup of pleasure finally came crashing down on you. Yoongi cursed several times as you squeezed around him, following after you. He fell next to you, unable to support his body up, completely exhausted.

“Thank you,” you whispered sweetly, running a hand through his hair. The insides of his body warmed up as he huddled closer to you, wrapping his arms around your naked figure.

“Thank you, y/n. You're mine now.” Yoongi gave you another kiss, his hands roaming across your soft skin. “Exhausted?” He asked, his eyes never leaving yours.

When you nodded, Yoongi sat up, making his way into the bathroom. You giggled at the ticklish feeling as he cleaned you up. Yoongi looked over at the clothes scattered all over the ground, sighing. He was broken away from his thoughts when he heard your irritated voice from the bed.

“I swear Min Yoongi. If I wake up and see that stupid mask on your face, I'm never sleeping with you again.”  His hand that secretly held onto the mask immediately let it go. You let out a tired laugh, turning onto your side. He brought his body under the covers, spooning behind you. Within minutes, the two of you quickly fell into a deep sleep together.

Bright light filled the bedroom as annoying birds chirped, breaking you out of your peaceful sleep. You turned over to your side, your eyes slowly opening as you saw Yoongi’s bright brown eyes stare at you.

“Good morning~” You hummed, curling up closer to his body. Kissing your forehead, Yoongi gave you a tender smile, wrapping his arms around you.

“Feeling like another round?” He whispered into your ear, smirking as he saw the way your face morphed in distress. Staring at you, your face heated up and you pushed yourself away from him. He laughed, enjoying how flustered you got when he teased you. “Just kidding.”

As he leaned in for a kiss on the lips, you pushed him away.

“Absolutely not.”

He sulked, “why not?”

“We haven’t brushed our teeth and I hate morning breath.” You replied as a matter of factly.

“Well then hurry and get up,” Yoongi stated, pulling you up from the bed and dragging you to the bathroom. The two of you joked and played around in the spacious bathroom, sliding toothpaste on Yoongi’s cheek and getting tickled from behind. After your crazy shenanigans, Yoongi wrapped his arms around your back, staring at the both of your reflections in the mirror.

“I love you.” He whispered, kissing the back of your head.

“Love you too.”

[ellenneedscoffee]

some asks

I saw @whiisker share this and thought I’d give it a go. Originally posted by @lilflowerkiddo

• 1. have you ever been in love?

I have and still am. I’ve been with my boyfriend going on five years now.

• 2. who is your favorite artist?

There are so many! Charlie Bowater, Shirley Barber, Yehuda Devir, the list goes on.

• 3. what is your favorite music genre?

I cant say i have a favourite. I like all kinds of music, except for country but Luke Combs is an exception.

• 4. have you ever had a penpal?

I have two. I've known them for about 8 years I think? One of them is a fantasy author and I’m creating the covers for her new series. 

• 5. are you single or in a relationship?

Yep. I’m taken.

• 6. what color are your eyes?

blue.

• 7. what is your favorite word?

antidisestablishmentarianism.

• 8. do you play any instruments?

No but i’d like to. 

Favorite color?

Purple but I also really like emerald green.

• 10. do you have any nicknames?

Not really. Some people call me Elle but that’s mainy my dad.

• 11. what is your favorite flower?

Orchids.

• 12. what qualities do you find attractive in a person?

Well, My current boyfriend is technically my first so I’d say I love his humor and and his smile. Although sometimes I hate his smile because it means hes about to be a cheeky shit and I should be worried.

• 13. do you have any pets?

I have a land seal- I mean a Blue Healer and 3 cats. 

• 14. have you ever traveled outside of your home country?

No but I am planning on going to Bali at the end of the year. I would also love to visit Japan and the US.

• 15. what language(s) do you speak?

English. I did learn Indonesian when i was in primary school and high school but I only remember the very basics like “Good Morning” and “thank you”.

• 16. who was your first crush?

The crush i can remember was I guy I “dated” when i was 12. Turns out he was best mates with my boyfriend before he decided to hit his girlfriend and threaten to come to my bf’s house with a crow bar. Yeah, we don’t speak to him anymore...

• 17. do you wear glasses?

I have glasses but i don’t need them. I swear they’re just clear lenses because they don’t do anything.

• 18. what is your favorite pastry?

croissant

• 19. do you prefer swimming in a pool or in the ocean?

ocean. 

• 20. bright, dark, or pastel colors?

Half of my wardrobe is black.

• 21. what is your favorite social media app?

Instagram.

• 22. what is your sexuality?

Straight.

• 23. do you have any siblings?

I have two sisters. I’m the middle child.

• 24. what is your favorite scent?

Strawberry and cream body wash. My god so good.

• 25. where do you want to travel to?

Japan and the US.

• 26. what is your favorite film?

West Side Story. 

• 27. who do people say you look like? (celebrity/family member)

I look really similar to my younger sister (well duh). Total strangers recognize me because they know her and vice versa.

• 28. who is your best friend?

I've struggled with friends over the years but I can say that my current friend group are my best friends. We’re like a family, My friend’s son calls me Aunty Ellen.

• 29. what is your dream job?

Full time Illustrator. (*sigh* It would be a dream)

• 30. do you know how to drive?

Yes I do. I've had my licence for 9 months now.

• 31. who is/was your favorite teacher?

My grade 3 teacher, Mrs Roach. She’s so lovely.

• 32. are you a feminist?

Yes.

• 33. what is your zodiac sign?

Cancer

• 34. do you enjoy reading?

I do. I really want to read more. I’m currently reading Gumiho: Wicked Fox.

• 35. do you have any hidden talents?

I can twitch my nostrils like a rabbit.

• 36. have you ever dyed your hair?

Defiantly. I cant even remember the last time I had my natural colour.

• 37. what is your favorite thing in your bedroom?

My laptop

• 38. what is your biggest fear?

Failure. 

• 39. can you whistle?

Yes. (take that Pepper Pig)

• 40. do you make your bed every day?

I try to.

• 41. do you have any tattoos and/or piercings?

No. I might get a tattoo one day but i cant commit.

• 42. have you ever been on a roller coaster?

Yes and it was horrible I hated it. 

• 43. surfing or skateboarding?

Neither.

• 44. are you a dog or a cat person?

Cat.

• 45. what is your favorite animal?

OTTERS!

• 46. do you have a skincare routine?

I guess. I use a green tea face wash and toner and then i like to use an eye serum.

• 47. what time do you typically go to bed at and what time do you wake up at? 

Lately I've been going to bed around 10:30 - 11:00 pm and waking up between 8:30 - 9:00 am. But I depends if i have work that day.

 48. what is your favorite memory?

It only happened this past weekend but dancing with my boyfriend at a friend’s wedding. It was the couple’s dance and I don’t know why but I got really emotional lol.

• 49. how tall are you?

5 ft 4

• 50. what is the best gift you’ve ever received?

My laptop and drawing tablet.

• 51. do you have a garden?

I do but its all weeds.

• 52. do you like bugs?

Not really? Moths freak me out. I hate how big they get and fly in your face.

• 53. what is your natural hair color?

Brown.

• 54. what is your favorite food and drink?

I loooooove seafood. Salmon sashimi, prawns, oysters give me now! and bubble tea.

• 55. do you want kids?

One day. Defiantly not now.

• 56. what is/was your favorite class?

Art and Photography.

• 57. what color shirt are you wearing?

Black. 

• 58. if you could time travel, what year would you go to and why? 

I do miss the 00′s. 

• 59. what is your skin color?

I’m very pale.

• 60. hugs or kisses?

Depends who’s giving them.

• 61. have you ever drank alcohol?

Yes, I get very drunk on Fireball but I love it! It tastes like a cinnamon doughnut. 

• 62. have you ever done drugs?

No but i’ve considered trying marijuana at least once. 

• 63. netflix or youtube?

Youtube.

• 64. ice cream or frozen yogurt?

Frozen yogurt.

• 65. succulents or flowers?

Succulents but all mine are plastic.

Original post by lilflowerkiddo

[theloveofscience]

Shugarl to Komui White Day Gift!

((Here we are! This should be the last of the White day gifts that I need to submit to you. I hope you enjoy it! As always, do with this as you please~))

————————————————————————————-

Shugarl had sent Komui and invitation for March 14th to attend a late-night picnic with him in order to watch the Gamma Normids meteor shower. It was quite convenient that the Gamma Normids shower always hit around this time and peaked on the 15th. The shower wasn’t very bright, but if you paid close attention, and if the surrounding area wasn’t too bright, you should be able to see the meteor shower.

There was a family getaway cottage that should suffice for the viewing. Shugarl sent out the invite rather early, almost a month in advance. Given the date Komui was being invited on, it was clear that this was related to White day.

The location was at the family getaway cottage, so Komui and Shugarl could stay overnight, if they wanted to. If not, Komui could always return home afterwards if he had plans to attend to that following Sunday.

Komui accepted the invitation and with that, Shugarl could commence his planning. He may have already revealed one part of the plan, but a bit of sacrifice was necessary for the greater good.

After the sent invitation, nothing else out of the ordinary occurred, as if everything was ‘business as usual.’ Shugarl and Komui would interact with each other as they normally would, nothing veering from normalcy.

That is, until the 1st of March hit. There were 14 days until the day they were going to meet to watch the Gamma Normids, and Shugarl had planned a few things. A letter that was  personally delivered sat in Komui’s mailbox that Saturday morning.

.

..

.

I cordially invite you to humor me with my version of an advent calendar.

As we count down the days until White Day, I will be sending you riddles and questions for you to answer.

You will get a point for every question you get right, and as you collect points, you will reach different tiers, which qualifies you in receiving a prize befitting that tier.

The questions and riddles will be mailed to you over the weekends, or it will be given to you in your office during the weekdays. Answers should be emailed to me.

Should you choose to humor me, your first riddle is written on the back of this letter.

Have fun.

.

..

.

All the riddles and questions weren’t hard. The riddles were silly, and the problems were things Shugarl knew Komui could solve. Whether they were chemical reaction problems, or mathematical equations, they were something Komui could handle.

On the weekdays, there would be a geode agate waiting for him on his desk. It looked like a regular rock at first, but when you lifted the top, it would reveal a hollow inside. There would be a note nestled in between the shiny agate crystals.

Assuming Komui had decided to humor Shugarl on this silly ‘advent calendar,’ Komui reached the first tier after 5 days. The gift he received was a small box of biscotti, which would go excellent with coffee. 

The next tier occurred after 10 days, and a pink box sat on Komui’s chair. This was a return gift from Jupiter for the gift that Komui made for her a month prior. Leave it to Shugarl to make her return gift a prize for joining the advent calendar game.

Inside the pink box were white and red speckled bath bombs:

.

..

.

[I like bathbombs because they’re relaxing.

I wanted to thank you for the cute dress you made me!

Please enjoy the bathbombs, they’re lavender scented to promote relaxation.

There are dried rose petals included in the bath bomb to make it feel fancy.]

Included in the letter was a picture of Jupiter wearing the dress Komui made for her. She understood how tiring the job of a professor was (because she had Shugarl to attest to that), and she thought that a relaxing bath would be able to melt the stress away.

It was a bit gimmicky, but she thought people loved bath bombs. A lot of people in her class loved them, in fact.

.

..

.

On Friday the 13th, Komui found a note on his desk after he returned from teaching a class. He’d sent off an email response to Shugarl an hour prior with an answer to a riddle.

The note revealed that the final and last question would be delivered in person. Also, the geode agate ‘box’ was now Komui’s to keep.

Shugarl had evidently been enjoying this little game of theirs, considering Shugarl would make mention of it every time they met, followed by a mischievous smirk. All the riddles and questions weren’t very difficult given Komui’s abilities, so it was sure that Shugarl was not taunting Komui by any means.

It was like when you execute a harmless prank against a friend and you both can laugh about it later.

That’s what level this was to him, a playful gesture.

-

[[The next day]]

-

Shugarl arrived at the family getaway cottage early in the day to prepare for the viewing/picnic. He had it set so they could eat and view the show from the porch. Blankets were prepared should either of them feel chilly during the viewing.

For the food, he prepared a number of things:

He prepared a creamy chicken and Gnocchi soup, with a French country Boule bread to dip the soup with. This would be warm and hearty. A side Thai Mango salad with Peanut dressing, was bright and flavorful. For the entrée, Shugarl chose a Smoked Salmon pasta.

As for a dessert, he prepared personal sized blueberry pies, where the crust was fashioned into a Fibonacci spiral. What else could one expect from a math nerd? Of course, he would decorate his pies with anything mathematical.

He chose pies, because he assumed Komui enjoyed them. He made a pi (pie) pun last month, and that left a lasting impression on Shugarl. As such, he chose to bake personal sized pies for dessert.

As for beverages, there were many to choose from. Komui could have his go-to drink, coffee, or he could choose from anything else such as water, wine, juice, etc.

When Komui arrived, the food was prepared fresh and warm, using the kitchen in the cottage. There was plenty of food to last them a while, so they could enjoy their food at a leisurely pace, waiting for the sun to set, and the meteor shower show to commence.

The family getaway cottage was isolated in the thick forest of trees, so there weren’t any lights that would drown out the light of the meteor shower. Shugarl found the show to be rather enjoyable, and having great company to share the sights with was all the more pleasing.

The night was passing by peacefully, and Shugarl excused himself for a moment to fetch something. He returned with a ‘Storm Glass’ and a notebook.

This sealed glass bulb contains chemicals that crystalize in response to atmospheric conditions. Of course, this could not replace the weather forecasting system, but it was a fun exercise. Keeping track of the storm glass’s responses to the weather and making predictions of the weather would be fun, wouldn’t it? Shugarl thought it would be fun, anyways.

“There is no right or wrong answer to the final question, so I’m gifting you the final prize in advance. I found you could make a storm glass yourself, so I did just that. I hope that you will find this storm glass amusing to play with.”

It seemed to be something a Science nerd would enjoy.

Over the month after Valentine’s day, Shugarl had put a lot of thought into his planning, and he’d also put much consideration to himself. This is not something he’d done in a long while, and so it was awkward at first, but Shugarl adjusted himself accordingly.

After much consideration, Shugarl had come to a conclusion he could agree with.

“I’ve put a lot of thought into it, and I’ve come to think of you as someone very important in my life. I don’t think I’ve truly had a person who could truly understand me and share my interests with. I feel comfortable around you, and I can put my trust in you. Even when I’m having one of my episodes, you didn’t chastise me, or avoid me out of sheer discomfort. You took the time to comfort me and attempt to heal the old scars I have in the barren wasteland that people call a heart.” He felt uncomfortable with how honest he was being at the moment, but he did resolve himself to do this, so he shall.

“I had thought that’s all it was at first. I’m not well in tune with my emotions as I’m sure you’d understand. I could not understand until recently, when I dug deep and contemplated on who I am as a person. I’ve deduced a conclusion from various instances throughout our friendship, and that is… I believe the feelings I feel towards you transcend that of mere friendship. I daresay I harbor romantic feelings towards you. What do you think about that?”

That’s it, that’s the question.  

What say you now, Komui?

_______________________________________________________________

Upon the conclusion of Valentine’s Day, to say he hadn’t been curious about what Shugarl was planning for White Day would have been a lie. It wasn’t that he regretted going all out for Valentine’s Day, far from it, and Shugarl had seemed pleased with his gifts only… he wondered if he should feel intimidated at the unknown possibilities. This was Shugarl after all and Komui was well acquainted with his habit of repaying anything tenfold, they had been friends too long for him not to have noticed this characteristic.

When the scientist thought back to their Valentine’s dinner, he couldn’t help but recall that although things were as casual and comfortable as it usually was between them, there had been occasional moments when the atmosphere seemed almost charged and Shugarl more pensive than usual. But surely he had simply been imaging things, either that or his fellow professor was already scheming his comeback for White Day…

In the end, Komui decided he probably felt more excited than intimidated to see what the other came up with this year.

The invitation to watch a meteor shower while enjoying a late night picnic wasn’t something he expected but it certainly was a pleasant surprise. His first thought had been to ask whether he should contribute to the food and beverages they would be consuming but having considered that this was probably part of his White Day gift decided not to. Nevertheless, he was looking forward to it and did not hesitate enthusiastically accepting the invitation.

When the 1st of March rolled around, Komui couldn’t help but laugh. In light of the puzzles he’d had Shugarl solve on Valentine’s day he really should have seen this coming. He had no complaints. The riddles were all things he could answer quite easily and he got gifts for answering correctly to boot. It felt a little like he was being spoiled but it was a nice change from the teasing he often had to endure.

It ended up becoming an inside joke of sorts, something private just between them but then, come to think of it, wasn’t that how it was with a lot of things? Ever since Shugarl had become a professor he’d not really bothered to try get along with anyone else more than he had to. It was always Shugarl he complained to about a hard day or ridiculous test papers, Shugarl that he dragged along to interesting lectures or symposiums, Shugarl that he ate lunch and drank coffee with, Shugarl that he laughed with and was teased by. It was perhaps a little scary to suddenly realise that apart from Lenalee, Shugarl was the one his world revolved around.

When exactly had that happened?

The days passed by and the  14th of March drew steadily closer. He enjoyed the biscotti he received and was touched by the gift from Jupiter. Komui had never used a bath bomb before but since Jupiter had gone out of her way to give it to him, he would give it a try so he could thank her properly. It was also a treat to see how adorable she looked in the dress he made for her. She was almost as precious as Lenalee… almost.

On the day question, Komui arrived at the cottage to see a wonderful spread of food prepared for their picnic which smelled absolutely mouth-watering. He couldn’t help but want to tease the other professor a little considering all the food that was set out.

“You’re not trying to fatten me up or anything are you?”

Admittedly, he was slightly on the slender side and occasionally neglected to eat when he got wrapped up in one project or another but he wasn’t quite a walking skeleton just yet. Jokes aside, he really appreciated all the effort that had gone into the preparation of the meal and he was looking forward to tasting it.

It was an enjoyable evening all round, the cottage being an ideal spot to view the meteor shower and the company made it all the more pleasant. After a time, Shugarl excused himself only to return with a storm glass which Komui eyed with interested fascination.

The scientist was very impressed that Shugarl had made the storm glass himself and also very excited at having received such an interesting device. He laughed warmly as he accepted the contraption, admiring it with sparkling eyes.

“Haha you know me well it seems~”

For a moment he was puzzled over the prospect of a final question until he recalled the note he had received the day before informing him of this very fact. A question that didn’t have a right or wrong answer… now he was truly curious.

…

For a moment in time his heart stopped.

Had he heard that correctly? Had he somehow dozed off while watching the meteor shower only to dream this? But no, this was real wasn’t it.

…I habour romantic feelings towards you…

…romantic feelings towards you…

…romantic feelings…

The words echoed in his mind on repeat and he could feel his face flushing bright red even as his eyes stung and a ridiculous grin started forming on his face without his permission. He probably looked like a maniac right now. Luckily for him, Shugarl had sat down in his vicinity to give him the storm glass so he could conveniently hide his face in the nape of his neck.

He felt far too embarrassed for his expression to be seen right now even if it was dark, although nothing could be done about his trembling limbs. It was unexpectedly nerve wracking to be confessed to for the first time.

It was incredible to know how his companion felt about him, the situation feeling almost surreal when he considered that time not too long ago when he thought he might have ruined their friendship.

Swallowing passed the lump in his throat, he breathed out a shaky sigh before quietly murmuring a response of sorts.

“I I think I’m in shock…”

Perhaps that was a bit of an understatement.

“… honoured… and happy… very, very happy.”

He was, exuberantly so, but that wasn’t exactly the answer he was supposed to be giving was it. There was also a small part that wondered whether he should be questioning Shugarl’s tastes but that was quickly squashed. More importantly, he needed to give him a better answer than that.

What did he think about it. There was only one answer really. 

Apart from Lenalee, the person his world revolved around was Shugarl.

“In that case… it’s okay if I feel the same… right?

[banthiasid-blog]

The Stress of Quarantine Is Triggering skin disorder Flare-Ups. Here's What Derms advocate

One 23-year-old shares the truth of getting associate response skin condition amid coronavirus pandemic panic. Read more: top10tally.com Schroeder’s undoubtedly not the sole one. people with skin disorder square measure sharing their imprisonment skin stories, like 23-year-old Hannah Williams, WHO lives within the kingdom. She announce a graphic facial icon on Instagram and wrote within the caption, “If anyone is curious however my imprisonment goes... not well… however a minimum of nobody will see however dangerous my skin appearance.” “All the uncertainty immediately and being in imprisonment has inflated my stress levels, that has created my skin flee,” Hannah tells Health. She was 1st diagnosed with skin disorder at age thirteen. “It started on my scalp and eventually cosmopolitan down my body,” she recollects. “Over the past few years, I’ve gone from being clear to coated head to toe. At the instant it’s in the main on my face.” Hannah treats her skin disorder with a mixture of moisturizers, a topical steroid hormone cream and Dovobet, a prescription medication. She additionally gets comfort and stress relief through connecting with people with skin disorder on Instagram. “It’s nice to check the sense of community; everyone seems to be willing to share the guidelines and tricks that job for them,” says Williams. “Seeing everybody bear their own cycles whereas attempting MEasure} through this moment in time makes me feel less alone.” Connecticut-based medical specialist Rhonda Q. Klein, MD, tells Health that a lot of of her skin disorder patients square measure experiencing flares immediately. “It’s not a surprise, given our heightened stress levels,” she explains. though scientists still don’t understand precisely what causes skin disorder, stress could be a well-known trigger, per the National skin disorder Foundation. At constant time, a skin disorder flare will cause stress, leading to a frustrating regeneration. If you can’t see your medical specialist immediately for facilitate attributable to the imprisonment, that too may increase stress levels. Dr. Klein says she’s in the main seeing patients by telemedicine, however she's able to supply in-person consultations once necessary in accordance with social distancing pointers. Rather than stress regarding not having the ability to check your derm in the flesh, try and see the advantages of a virtual visit, if your doctor offers it. California-based medical specialist Ava Shamban, MD, tells Health that skin disorder patients usually simply would like "confirmation of a flare and a prescription, or a recommendation of product we will ship or they'll obtain pavement,” says Dr. Shamban, adding that this could be done via telemedicine. To help skin disorder patients cut back stress levels normally, Dr. Shamban recommends meditation and relaxation respiration exercises. however avoid a protracted soak in an exceedingly hot bathtub, as appealing as which will sound. For your skin’s sake, the less time in predicament, the better. “Have a relaxing bathtub with oatmeal however build it fast,” she says. “Go for shorter and a lot of warm showers and baths.” Meanwhile, try and do all the items you are doing beneath traditional circumstances to assist ease your skin disorder symptoms and avoid a flare: follow the treatment set up counseled by your medical specialist, get lots of sleep, wear loose cotton consumer goods, and forgo food in favor of whole, unprocessed foods like fruits and veggies. Dr. Klein recommends operation inflammatory ingredients like sugar, alcohol, and farm and upping your intake of medicament decisions like berries, salmon, and turmeric. The additional hygiene precautions we’re all active to stop the unfold of COVID-19 can also be taking their toll on individuals with skin disorder. “Take care with the additional handwashing,” advises Dr. Klein. “A light preparation used befittingly (at least twenty seconds with heat water) can do the task. Avoid alcohol-based hand sanitizers, which may very dry out compromised skin like skin disorder.” Wearing face masks and gloves and victimization chemical disinfectants within the home may also worsen chronic skin conditions and increase xerotes, which may build skin disorder worse. to stay skin wet, Dr. Shamban recommends employing a thicker moisturizer on your body each day and night. “After your bathtub or shower, ‘seal’ your skin with a salve, like associate aquaphor ointment,” she says. “If you don’t have one, or can’t get one quickly, build your own with petrolatum and oil. Apply this to affected areas at the hours of darkness before bed and canopy them with something—even plastic wrap—to retain wet.” Read more: top10tally.com

[lewiscarrollsocietynorthamerica]

CHAPTER X. The Lobster Quadrille

The Mock Turtle sighed deeply, and drew the back of one flapper across his eyes. He looked at Alice, and tried to speak, but for a minute or two sobs choked his voice. ‘Same as if he had a bone in his throat,’ said the Gryphon: and it set to work shaking him and punching him in the back. At last the Mock Turtle recovered his voice, and, with tears running down his cheeks, he went on again:—

‘You may not have lived much under the sea—’ (‘I haven’t,’ said Alice)—‘and perhaps you were never even introduced to a lobster—’ (Alice began to say ‘I once tasted—’ but checked herself hastily, and said ‘No, never’) ‘—so you can have no idea what a delightful thing a Lobster Quadrille is!’

‘No, indeed,’ said Alice. ‘What sort of a dance is it?’

‘Why,’ said the Gryphon, ‘you first form into a line along the sea-shore—’

‘Two lines!’ cried the Mock Turtle. ‘Seals, turtles, salmon, and so on; then, when you’ve cleared all the jelly-fish out of the way—’

‘That generally takes some time,’ interrupted the Gryphon.

‘—you advance twice—’

‘Each with a lobster as a partner!’ cried the Gryphon.

‘Of course,’ the Mock Turtle said: ‘advance twice, set to partners—’

‘—change lobsters, and retire in same order,’ continued the Gryphon.

‘Then, you know,’ the Mock Turtle went on, ‘you throw the—’

‘The lobsters!’ shouted the Gryphon, with a bound into the air.

‘—as far out to sea as you can—’

‘Swim after them!’ screamed the Gryphon.

‘Turn a somersault in the sea!’ cried the Mock Turtle, capering wildly about.

‘Change lobsters again!’ yelled the Gryphon at the top of its voice.

‘Back to land again, and that’s all the first figure,’ said the Mock Turtle, suddenly dropping his voice; and the two creatures, who had been jumping about like mad things all this time, sat down again very sadly and quietly, and looked at Alice.

‘It must be a very pretty dance,’ said Alice timidly.

‘Would you like to see a little of it?’ said the Mock Turtle.

‘Very much indeed,’ said Alice.

‘Come, let’s try the first figure!’ said the Mock Turtle to the Gryphon. ‘We can do without lobsters, you know. Which shall sing?’

‘Oh, you sing,’ said the Gryphon. ‘I’ve forgotten the words.’

So they began solemnly dancing round and round Alice, every now and then treading on her toes when they passed too close, and waving their forepaws to mark the time, while the Mock Turtle sang this, very slowly and sadly:—

‘“Will you walk a little faster?” said a whiting to a snail. “There’s a porpoise close behind us, and he’s treading on my tail. See how eagerly the lobsters and the turtles all advance! They are waiting on the shingle—will you come and join the dance? Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, will you join the dance? Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, won’t you join the dance? “You can really have no notion how delightful it will be When they take us up and throw us, with the lobsters, out to sea!”  But the snail replied “Too far, too far!” and gave a look askance— Said he thanked the whiting kindly, but he would not join the dance. Would not, could not, would not, could not, would not join the dance. Would not, could not, would not, could not, could not join the dance. ‘“What matters it how far we go?” his scaly friend replied. “There is another shore, you know, upon the other side. The further off from England the nearer is to France— Then turn not pale, beloved snail, but come and join the dance. Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, will you join the dance? Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, won’t you join the dance?”’

‘Thank you, it’s a very interesting dance to watch,’ said Alice, feeling very glad that it was over at last: ‘and I do so like that curious song about the whiting!’

‘Oh, as to the whiting,’ said the Mock Turtle, ‘they—you’ve seen them, of course?’

‘Yes,’ said Alice, ‘I’ve often seen them at dinn—’ she checked herself hastily.

‘I don’t know where Dinn may be,’ said the Mock Turtle, ‘but if you’ve seen them so often, of course you know what they’re like.’

‘I believe so,’ Alice replied thoughtfully. ‘They have their tails in their mouths—and they’re all over crumbs.’

‘You’re wrong about the crumbs,’ said the Mock Turtle: ‘crumbs would all wash off in the sea. But they have their tails in their mouths; and the reason is—’ here the Mock Turtle yawned and shut his eyes.—‘Tell her about the reason and all that,’ he said to the Gryphon.

‘The reason is,’ said the Gryphon, ‘that they would go with the lobsters to the dance. So they got thrown out to sea. So they had to fall a long way. So they got their tails fast in their mouths. So they couldn’t get them out again. That’s all.’

‘Thank you,’ said Alice, ‘it’s very interesting. I never knew so much about a whiting before.’

‘I can tell you more than that, if you like,’ said the Gryphon. ‘Do you know why it’s called a whiting?’

‘I never thought about it,’ said Alice. ‘Why?’

‘It does the boots and shoes,’ the Gryphon replied very solemnly.

Alice was thoroughly puzzled. ‘Does the boots and shoes!’ she repeated in a wondering tone.

‘Why, what are your shoes done with?’ said the Gryphon. ‘I mean, what makes them so shiny?’

Alice looked down at them, and considered a little before she gave her answer. ‘They’re done with blacking, I believe.’

‘Boots and shoes under the sea,’ the Gryphon went on in a deep voice, ‘are done with a whiting. Now you know.’

‘And what are they made of?’ Alice asked in a tone of great curiosity.

‘Soles and eels, of course,’ the Gryphon replied rather impatiently: ‘any shrimp could have told you that.’

‘If I’d been the whiting,’ said Alice, whose thoughts were still running on the song, ‘I’d have said to the porpoise, “Keep back, please: we don’t want you with us!”’

‘They were obliged to have him with them,’ the Mock Turtle said: ‘no wise fish would go anywhere without a porpoise.’

‘Wouldn’t it really?’ said Alice in a tone of great surprise.

‘Of course not,’ said the Mock Turtle: ‘why, if a fish came to me, and told me he was going a journey, I should say “With what porpoise?”’

‘Don’t you mean “purpose”?’ said Alice.

‘I mean what I say,’ the Mock Turtle replied in an offended tone. And the Gryphon added ‘Come, let’s hear some of your adventures.’

‘I could tell you my adventures—beginning from this morning,’ said Alice a little timidly: ‘but it’s no use going back to yesterday, because I was a different person then.’

‘Explain all that,’ said the Mock Turtle.

‘No, no! The adventures first,’ said the Gryphon in an impatient tone: ‘explanations take such a dreadful time.’

So Alice began telling them her adventures from the time when she first saw the White Rabbit. She was a little nervous about it just at first, the two creatures got so close to her, one on each side, and opened their eyes and mouths so very wide, but she gained courage as she went on. Her listeners were perfectly quiet till she got to the part about her repeating ‘You are old, Father William,’ to the Caterpillar, and the words all coming different, and then the Mock Turtle drew a long breath, and said ‘That’s very curious.’

‘It’s all about as curious as it can be,’ said the Gryphon.

‘It all came different!’ the Mock Turtle repeated thoughtfully. ‘I should like to hear her try and repeat something now. Tell her to begin.’ He looked at the Gryphon as if he thought it had some kind of authority over Alice.

‘Stand up and repeat “‘Tis the voice of the sluggard,”’ said the Gryphon.

‘How the creatures order one about, and make one repeat lessons!’ thought Alice; ‘I might as well be at school at once.’ However, she got up, and began to repeat it, but her head was so full of the Lobster Quadrille, that she hardly knew what she was saying, and the words came very queer indeed:—

 ‘’Tis the voice of the Lobster; I heard him declare,  “You have baked me too brown, I must sugar my hair.”   As a duck with its eyelids, so he with his nose  Trims his belt and his buttons, and turns out his toes.’       [later editions continued as follows  When the sands are all dry, he is gay as a lark,  And will talk in contemptuous tones of the Shark,  But, when the tide rises and sharks are around,  His voice has a timid and tremulous sound.]

‘That’s different from what I used to say when I was a child,’ said the Gryphon.

‘Well, I never heard it before,’ said the Mock Turtle; ‘but it sounds uncommon nonsense.’

Alice said nothing; she had sat down with her face in her hands, wondering if anything would ever happen in a natural way again.

‘I should like to have it explained,’ said the Mock Turtle.

‘She can’t explain it,’ said the Gryphon hastily. ‘Go on with the next verse.’

‘But about his toes?’ the Mock Turtle persisted. ‘How could he turn them out with his nose, you know?’

‘It’s the first position in dancing.’ Alice said; but was dreadfully puzzled by the whole thing, and longed to change the subject.

‘Go on with the next verse,’ the Gryphon repeated impatiently: ‘it begins “I passed by his garden.”’

Alice did not dare to disobey, though she felt sure it would all come wrong, and she went on in a trembling voice:—

 ‘I passed by his garden, and marked, with one eye,  How the Owl and the Panther were sharing a pie—’    [later editions continued as follows  The Panther took pie-crust, and gravy, and meat,  While the Owl had the dish as its share of the treat.  When the pie was all finished, the Owl, as a boon,  Was kindly permitted to pocket the spoon:  While the Panther received knife and fork with a growl,  And concluded the banquet—]

‘What is the use of repeating all that stuff,’ the Mock Turtle interrupted, ‘if you don’t explain it as you go on? It’s by far the most confusing thing I ever heard!’

‘Yes, I think you’d better leave off,’ said the Gryphon: and Alice was only too glad to do so.

‘Shall we try another figure of the Lobster Quadrille?’ the Gryphon went on. ‘Or would you like the Mock Turtle to sing you a song?’

‘Oh, a song, please, if the Mock Turtle would be so kind,’ Alice replied, so eagerly that the Gryphon said, in a rather offended tone, ‘Hm! No accounting for tastes! Sing her “Turtle Soup,” will you, old fellow?’

The Mock Turtle sighed deeply, and began, in a voice sometimes choked with sobs, to sing this:—

  ‘Beautiful Soup, so rich and green,   Waiting in a hot tureen!   Who for such dainties would not stoop?   Soup of the evening, beautiful Soup!   Soup of the evening, beautiful Soup!     Beau—ootiful Soo—oop!     Beau—ootiful Soo—oop!   Soo—oop of the e—e—evening,     Beautiful, beautiful Soup!   ‘Beautiful Soup! Who cares for fish,   Game, or any other dish?   Who would not give all else for two   Pennyworth only of beautiful Soup?   Pennyworth only of beautiful Soup?     Beau—ootiful Soo—oop!     Beau—ootiful Soo—oop!   Soo—oop of the e—e—evening,     Beautiful, beauti—FUL SOUP!’

‘Chorus again!’ cried the Gryphon, and the Mock Turtle had just begun to repeat it, when a cry of ‘The trial’s beginning!’ was heard in the distance.

‘Come on!’ cried the Gryphon, and, taking Alice by the hand, it hurried off, without waiting for the end of the song.

‘What trial is it?’ Alice panted as she ran; but the Gryphon only answered ‘Come on!’ and ran the faster, while more and more faintly came, carried on the breeze that followed them, the melancholy words:—

  ‘Soo—oop of the e—e—evening,     Beautiful, beautiful Soup!’

[localcrackaddict]

Watching Our Planet on Netflix:

A dolphin does a flip in the air

Me shoving chips in my mouth: You're doing great sweety!!!

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Cheetahs using teamwork to catch dinner

Me talking to my cat, who is also watching: You best not be taking notes, my feet can't take advanced moves you sick bastard

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*sees a baby seal* SMOL BABY WATER DOG

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Tiger failed to catch regional deer

Me: ok I know the deer are doing their warning calls but I'd like to imagine they're roasting the tiger in front of her kids like "yeah better luck next time n00b" "what fuckwad, thought you could sneak up on us?? Bitch you tried" "HAHAHAHAHA LOOK AT THAT LOOOOOSERRRRRR" *tiger sulks back to her cubs who are larger than I thought they would be*

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Watching the jungle episode

Me half asleep: Damn there really be some specific birds out there

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Me looking at any animal I haven't seen before: What is it with animals with weird noses, like you do you boo but you got a funky face

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During the sea episode

Me: aaaaaaand this is why I prefer to stay landlocked

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During that big zoom out of the agriculturalized prairie land

Me, who has done zero (0) farming in her entire life: oh fuck, i can't believe I've done this

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A group of birds viciously rips apart a carcas

Me who has been dead inside for the better part of her adult life: shit this camera quality is amazing, how they do that

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"Squid are taking over"

Me: oh shit the aliens were beneath us the entire time

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The narrator says literally anything involving humans

Me: Damn we getting passive aggressive up in here, you right tho like you 100% right we fucked up

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"The pelicans feed...and feed...and feed"

Me shoving more chips into my mouth: bitch me too, the fuq

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FUCK YEAH SALMON THE ONLY FISH I LIKE HELL YEA-wait nooooo they can't be dying goddamn people fuck everything up how do I help

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*looking at the Colombian rainbow river*

Wow that is so beautiful, this world is full of such stunning sights i can't believe I live in a place with such amazi- *glances over at my cat cleaning her ass* -ng...yeah nevermind

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*osprey catches fish*

Me who grew up with an osprey family living next to the high school football field: YAAASSSS OZZY GET YOU SOME LUNCH

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Jaguar fails at catching worlds largest rat so instead she goes for an actual modERN DAY DINOSAUR AND FUCKING WINS HOLY SHIT

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*fish has neighbor rivalry, collects shells to win the annual Christmas decorecting contest*

Me: you fucking go you funky little fish

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Forest episodes starts

Me who grew up in the wilderness of Montana: FUCK YEAH FORESTS THATS MY JAM FUCKIN LOVE TREES

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I'm obsessed with Chernobyl and the wildlife that has taken over it

All in all, great docu-series, highly recommend watching it