#hopefully tomorrow i can get back to drawing something real

[cillianmurphysdimples]

A female Y/N / Cillian fanfic (Part Fifteen)

Absolutely not based on anything real at all, all totally fictional, fanciful and all total bollocks.

Warnings for sexual references and language. Adult themes. Not suitable for under 18s.

We Got Issues

Part Fifteen: Y/N is getting by with minimal contact with Cillian whilst he continues to work away, but a rare chance to see him on a Zoom call brightens her mood. When she gets a call the same evening from his sister, she prepares herself for a Corkonian takeover at the end of the following week. His sister says something, and she finds herself taken aback by Cillian's reaction. [Family life/Fluff/Angst] (I've run out of grey haired GIFs that apply so take this one!)

@remembering-angels @dragonsneversharetheirtreasure @aesthetic0cherryblossom @meadowshelby @strangeions @meister95 @vivianleighwishesshewasme

Yoke - thing (keep getting asked about that one)

Gatting - heavy drinking/drinking

Leaba - Irish word for bed

Síle is pronounced like Shee-lah

.......

You went three days with just a few texts between you and Cillian once he'd landed back in England. He had night filming, interviews, and a desperate need for sleep to occupy him. But on the evening of the fourth day, sitting in your office, it surprises you to receive a Zoom invite a few moments after you log out of your accounts for work. You can barely contain the buzz of excitement as you connect and wait to see his face. His face fills your screen and it's so good to see him. His beanie is pulled over his hair, and he's got a coat over his clothes that tells you he's either coming in or going out.

“Hello,” you beam. “It's really good to see your face.”

He smiles brightly back at you, “Ah fuck - it's good to see you, too.”

“Are you coming in or going out?” You ask, and you chuckle when he looks down at himself then back up at you.

“Heading out,” he says. “Dinner with Packy, Sophie and Matt.” He elaborates. “But I wanted to see you a wee bit before I go.”

“You had a busy day?” You ask. He'd text you around five am, having finished a night of filming again, and let you know he was back to filming in the daytime tomorrow. You didn't know, though, I'd he'd fallen into bed after that or if he had a string of things to occupy him and planned on sleeping tonight instead.

He shakes his head, “Not overly. I was asleep til gone eleven,” he grins, “Then I sat on my arse for a while but it was in front of this yoke for interviews so I suppose I was working.” He chuckles. “I had the glasses on there for a bit, my eyes are wrecked from looking at this all afternoon. I don't know how you cope with it for work.” He shakes his head. “Can't wait to crawl back into me leaba later.”

“You'd live in your bed if we let you.” You laugh lightly, and he grins back at you. “Still coming back home for a few days after next week?” You ask him hopefully.

“Of course,” he nods earnestly. “Missing you farting in the bed,” raises his eyebrows and the giggle he erupts into as he slags you leaves you unable to defend yourself even in false annoyance.

“You're a prick,” you smirk, shaking your head. “But I miss you. Not having you moaning at me to turn the brain-rot TV off is actually getting boring.” He laughs lightly, and you watch his tongue draw back and begin flicking against his bottom teeth. “Did you talk to the boys?”

He nods his head, “Yeah, just off the phone there actually.” He says with a bright expression. “They're grand by all accounts.” His head whips around to the door behind him suddenly and you can hear the faint sound of it knocking. He gets up from the seat he's in. You watch the screen as he walks towards the door of his hotel room and drags it open enough to see out. “Howeya…no, you're fine, come in. Just talking to Y/N, there.” His voice is quieter with the distance from the laptop but you can hear him well enough. You watch him step aside from the door and pull it further open, and there's a little anxiety in the pit of your stomach in anticipation of whomever is on the other side of it. You relax almost instantly when it's Packy who walks into view.

With a cheeky grin, he approaches the laptop and all but shoves his face into the camera. “Well, Y/N, what's the craic?” He laughs, and you can hear Cillian's light giggle behind him.

“Hiya,” you smile brightly back. “You lot out on the piss tonight then?”

Packy purses his lips and shakes his head comically, “God no, no getting on it tonight.” He insists as he steps back from the laptop. You can see Cillian loitering with a little awkwardness, like he's a little on edge now that somebody is in his space, but beyond his hand being close to his mouth, he gives no other indication of unease. “Well, I suppose we could?” He looks to Cillian and you watch Cillian's brows rise up, “Well Sophie's fella is driving, there's no use everyone being a pioneer for the night.” He laughs and Cillian shakes his head with a bright smile.

“You'll have to take his shoes off for him if that's the case, he's not so good with them after a few.” You speak up, and while Cillian makes a face and laughs lightly Packy doesn't seem to have heard you at all. “And take him to the toilet before you leave a bar, yeah? I'd rather not be WhatsApp’d another string of images of him peeing in the street.”

Packy laughs - evidentially he'd heard you that time and of the event in question - and points at Cillian who shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “Don't worry, Y/N, if he gets it out in the street we'll give him a slap.”

Cillian frowns and bends at the waist, and stares straight into the camera. “You can fuck off,” he says with raised eyebrows, but all you can do is laugh. “No gatting tonight!” He promised, “Here, we’re away. I'll talk to you tomorrow.” He says with a genuine and bright smile. “Go on and watch your shite on TV.”

You laugh and wave into the camera. “Have a good night. Love you.” You say with a soft smile.

“Love you too.” He says with a serious expression. He gives a thumbs up and then the call ends.

You hadn't expected a call, so you try to keep the nice surprise of it as a pleasant thing and not dwell on the fact that he was now gone again. You decide to do as he suggested - bullshit TV. And maybe a takeaway.

You make your way down the two flights of stairs and into the kitchen. Immediately, you feel how cold it is and adjust the thermostat on the wall beside the sofa. You need to remember to change it back, or Cillian will be moaning about the cost to heat the place, and that it's a sauna in the bedroom. Back in the kitchen, you leave your phone on the island and begin searching through the kitchen drawers for a takeaway menu. You're certain there are Chinese and Indian takeaway menus knocking about, but by your third unsuccessful drawer, you're beginning to assume that Cillian has thrown them out on one of his mad moments of domestic service. About to surrender, you check in the fourth drawer, strewn with poorly organised cooking utensils, and ‘a-ha!’ to yourself mentally as you find the menus pinned beneath the ladle and wooden spoon. You shut the door with your bum as you turn around, hands occupied with scouring through the menus. Definitely Chinese over Indian, and definitely egg fried rice over Cillian's preferred mushroom rice. The decision of what to stuff yourself with along with the rice, though, is a harder one. Chicken balls and BBQ sauce, or a spice bag, or Cantonese sweet and sour chicken? You could get it all, and take a small amount from everything, and have the leftovers tomorrow, of course, but you weren't sure you were willing to spend fifty euro on a Chinese takeaway for just yourself.

You lean against the island as you look over the menu, and glance across when your phone begins buzzing and singing out ‘San Diego Song’ as it rings. You abandon your hunger for a moment and lean across awkwardly. You frown as “Síle” flashes on the screen. Answering the call, and pushing it onto speakerphone, you stand over the handset curiously. “Hi, Síle,” you say softly. “Everything okay?” You're a little taken aback that she's calling you at all, and even more so as his family knows he's in England right now. Why not just call her brother?

“Hiya, Y/N,” Síle says, bright and cheerful. “Sorry bothering you in the evening, but I know Cill is away. I wanted to ask, would it be okay if Griff and I stayed up with you towards the end of next week? We've an event in Dublin, and it'd be nice to see you. And I know Cill should be back home there at the end of the week, I think anyway, I'm sure he said….”

You remind yourself what day you're on now. “Friday,” you say. “He’ll be back on the Friday. In the afternoon, I think.”

“I'll ring him, and I'll talk it over, but you're home there now, so.” You hear her laugh.

“I mean, you're so welcome, you know that. And the boys will be up on the Sunday, too. Bet they'd be happy seeing you both. As long as you can stick your brother being a pain in the arse, and the sofabed up in the office. Though if the boys aren't staying then I'm sure you can use one of their rooms.” You say with a smile.

“Ah, you know us by now, Y/N, wherever we hang out hats.” She laughs again. “You're a star, Y/N, thanks a million.” she says with a quiet laugh. “And you're alright yourself, yeah?”

“Yeah, I'm okay. Working, and about to get a Chinese with as much chicken as I can stomach in Cillian's absence.” You laugh, and you hear her laugh too. “And you two?”

“Ah, yeah, sure we're grand. Same as yourself, working away and all.” She says, still bright and cheerful.

“That's good,” you smile.

“So if we say Friday, yeah? You're sure that's okay, now?” She checks.

You answer immediately in the affirmative. “Yeah, absolutely. Friday is fine. As I said, he's home Friday. And you'll stay for the weekend?”

“If youse don't mind - we've the thing in Dublin on Saturday daytime but it'd be good to be visiting for a few days, and to see Aran and Malachy.” Síle says cheerfully.

“It’ll be great to see you. But you might change your mind on Friday when Cillian gets home. He's not been getting a lot of sleep, and you'll find him going through you for a shortcut.” you laugh a little.

“Ah, sure hasn't he always been the same, girl!?” She laughs again. “Come here, Y/N, I'll let you get on with your Chinese takeaway. I'll talk to you both before, anyway, but otherwise I'll see you soon.”

“See you soon, Síle.” You say, and hit the cancel button on the phone. You do wonder, now, if Cillian should have been involved in the decision but you're fairly sure he wouldn't tell his own sister to get a hotel! Still, you open your texts and send a message across to Cillian, letting him know Síle’s request and that you have agreed to it.

“Dinner good? Síle rang me - she and Griff want to stay here next Friday & over the weekend for something they have in Dublin. I said no problem. I know you're back on Friday too but we can have a quiet evening anyway. Maybe call her? Love you x.”

You return to your menu, having mentally made made your choices whilst on the phone, and then scour through the app on your phone to find the Chinese that actually corresponds to the menu. Finding the ChowTown restaurant on Church Road, you put through your order and grimace at the delivery charge before finalising. Just as you go to set your phone down, Cillian's text reply comes through. You slide down the notification bar and click to open it.

“She texted me that she'd tried to ring. Didn't get any call. No bother anyway. We can get dinner or something. Can throw them in Aran's room, not like he's using it. The restaurant is loud, I want to go to bed ha ha. Love you.”

You smirk as you swipe away the message, and push your phone into the pocket of your hoodie. You slink over to the sofa and drop down, immediately flicking the TV onto Amazon Prime and began to search for a film you know Cillian would turn his nose up to, but that you really wanted to see. The only benefit you found to the little bastard being gone was that you could indulge yourself in things he didn't like - or didn't approve of - but even that didn't make his absence worth it.

You booked the Friday off as annual leave and spent the day ensuring you had the house in order - not that either of you were particularly untidy - and that all three of the available beds had clean sheets in case there was a case of musical beds once Síle and Griff arrived. You finished a quick grocery shop - wine, snacks, fresh fruit and veg, and bottled water - and finished your stint as Cinderella by sweeping and mopping the floor that covered the whole of the open plan space downstairs. Satisfied, as you stand in your gleaming kitchen, you light the wood wick candle that had been gifted to you at some point over the last twelve months and left it in the centre of the island. You love the crackle of the wooden wick, and it doesn't take long for its vanilla and coffee bean scent to start filtering around the space. It's three o'clock in the afternoon, and you're finally satisfied that you now look like you live in an untouched show home and that it smells so clinically clean that nobody will ever guess that you're human and eat or drink anything at all.

You fill the kettle with water and set it on to boil. Despite the offer on more than one occasion to collect him at the airport, Cillian had declined as he wanted to do something before coming home so all you were doing now was waiting - which you hate. You place the coffee press beside the kettle and spoon in the ground coffee, then stand awkwardly as you glance around you. Why did waiting for something always make you feel like you could do anything else? But you were excited to see him, and you were both excited and nervous to see his sister and husband, too. You were looking forward to one of your favourite phenomenons, too - Cillian's accent getting stronger in the presence of someone else from Cork!

As the kettle comes to a boil and silences, you frown. You're sure you heard the crackling of the gravel outside, but it could just be the candle crackling. Still, your stomach flutters and you walk towards the front door to peer out of the glass in the room if the door and check. Sure enough, you can see a car and a lone figure, though the mottled glass that doesn't allow a clear view out, but you'd know that figure anywhere. It does help that he's lugging a wheeled bag awkwardly along the gravel as the car reverses away. You unlock the front door and pull it open, smiling brightly as Cillian looks up at you. The beanie is ever present, his glasses are perched on his nose, and the look of exhaustion mixed with a smile across his face feels like home to behold.

“You're back,” you say, smiling brightly.

His smile widens a little as he reaches the door, “I'm back.” He says, letting go of the bag on the doorstep. He wraps his arms around you immediately and you snake your arms around his back. His kiss is soft and loving, and he tastes like coffee and smells like himself. You move to rest your head on his chest, still standing at the door. It's been a long couple of weeks and you've missed the presence of his body in the house. He laughs a little and squeezes you before letting go. “C'mon, let's get in.” He says, and begins trying to pull your arms from him. You let go, smirking, and close the door on the outside once he's in the door. “God, have you disinfected the whole house?” He asks, looking around him, as he releases his bag once again beside the coat hooks.

“I have,” you nod with a smile. “How was the flight?”

He juts his chin up, “Ah, same as always.” He sniffs. “Will we whack on the kettle? I need tea.” He smiles.

“It's just boiled actually. Which tea do you want?” You ask as you turn your back on him, as he takes off his shoes and coat, and make your way to the kitchen.

“Oh, whatever you get,” he says. A moment later, he has his arms around you from behind, his chin on your shoulder, as you pour water from the kettle into a mug with a herbal tea bag inside. “God…” he grumbles against your cheek, “Missed you.”

You smile, “I've missed you too. It's been a long couple of weeks.”

“Síle give a time for today?” He asks, and unwraps his arms from you as you push his mug along the counter for him to pick up. Taking the mug, he yawns tightly and noisily.

You shake your head, and turn to face him. “No, just that she'd be here today.” He nods slowly and yawns a second time. “Did you not sleep last night?” You ask, smirking.

He shakes his head, “I did, but…” he shrugs his shoulders as he yawns a third time. “Fuck sake.” He stretches his eyes wide as his jaw snaps shut. “You didn't hear from the boys this week, did you?” He asks and then sips at his tea.

You shake your head, “No, I mean I did text on Thursday about Sunday and Aran said he'd be coming, I didn't get anything from Malachy. But otherwise, no.” you say. “Why?”

Cillian frowns, “Ah, I was on the phone to Aran on Tuesday, I think, and he was in a bit of a mood. Couldn't get out of him why, but he told me he didn't want to come over on the weekend, that it was pissing him off.” He shakes his head.

“Well, like I said, Thursday’s text said he'd be here. You said he was in a mood, maybe he was just being a shit with his words.” You reason.

Cillian nods, “Yeah, I get that. But, I don't get why, like.” He shrugs.

“School, a fight with his mum, pissed off with his brother, hormones…” you list, smiling at him. “He's a teenage boy, don't take it personally.” he rolls his eyes at you as he sips at his tea again. “I'll throw your bag upstairs. Do you want to get the washing out first? Save bringing it up to bring it down again.”

“Ah leave it, I'll do it there in a minute.” He says, shaking his head. He sets his mug down onto the counter beside him and holds his arms open. “Come here,” he raises his eyebrows. “Didn't get enough there before.” He grins at his own cheesy line. But you oblige, and fold yourself against his chest as his wraps his arms around you tightly. His chin rests on the top of your head, and he breathes deep and contented breaths that soothe you as much as you assume they do him. You're not sure how long you stand there, comfortable and close, but you're disappointed when there's a heavy knock on the front door that signals the end of the intimacy.

You sigh and push yourself up out of his embrace. “That'll be your sister.”

He sticks out his bottom lip, “Fuck,” he raises a single eyebrow. “I was hoping for a quickie before they got here.” You slap your hand against his arm, tutting but smiling, as you walk towards the front door. All you can think now is, Let the Corkonian takeover begin!

Cillian’s shift in brightness surprises you massively as you'd open the door and welcome in his sister and her husband. But that chirpiness only lasts for the time it takes to make dinner and settle around the dining table before he is yawning, and exercising his right to live with a perpetual bitch face. He chats, and isn't rude at all, but you can see as you all ate that he is heading speedily towards switch off mode after three weeks working flat out. He smiles as Griff talks about work, and as Síle explains what they're up to tomorrow in the city, and you reach across the table and tap your fingers gently across the back of his hand.

“Do you want another?” You ask, and nod towards his empty beer bottle before him. When he nods briefly, you take to the empty one as you stand up. “Another drink, guys?” You offer. They're all seemingly enjoying the thrown-together meal, and that's helped to alleviate some of your anxiety about things going well while they're here.

“Another glass of wine would be lovely,” Síle smiles brightly. And you're a little surprised when Griff declines and gestures towards his still half full beer.

You excuse yourself to the kitchen, with Síle’s glass and Cillian's empty bottle, and take a moment to breathe before you replace their drinks. They're lovely - all of his family are, in fact - but you consistently fear doing anything wrong in case their opinions of you turn sour and they begin to see you as you'd always feared they would after the affair. As you close the fridge door and set Cillian's beer onto the island, you hear footsteps around the wall from the dining room and look up. “You okay?” You ask, as Cillian approaches, carrying his knife and fork.

He nods with a soft smile just about pulling his lips, “Knocked them onto the floor,” he rolls his eyes. He walks around to the sink and throws them in and takes a clean set from the drainer beside it. He turns and leans back against the sink. “Y'alright?”

“Yeah,” you nod and smile. “You look done in.” You say, softening your expression sympathetically.

He nods his head, “Think it's because I've stopped, you know, after going for nearly a month.” He smirks. “We’ll roll into bed in a wee while,” he says and raised his eyebrows. “Throw me out the opener, there,” he says as he pushes away from the sink and picks up the beer bottle on the island. You hand it over, and as he pops off the cap, you pour Síle's glass of wine, and you return to the dining room with him just a step or two behind.

“When are you back in England, Cill?” Síle asks as he sits down across from her. She gives you a bright smile as you hand her the refilled wine glass.

“Tuesday,” he says with a nod, then takes a drink from the bottle. “This yoke tomorrow, is it like an exhibition?” He asks. She'd mentioned that they were attending an arts event not too far from the wax museum just off O’Connell Bridge, in a small building that gave nothing away.

“I suppose,” Síle shrugs. “Griff's friend has work that is in it.”

Cillian turns down the corners of his mouth and raises his eyebrows, “Cool,” he smiles.

“And the boys are well?” Griff asks, “We do be interacting there on Facebook with them but you wouldn't be quick getting a reply from them.” He laughs.

Cillian clicks his tongue, “Phones never out of their hands, but sure if they answer a text it's a miracle.” He smirks. “But they're grand. Aran’s got the leavers soon so he's busy, and between the girlfriend, college and that wee job in Eason’s, Malachy does be hard to pin down.”

“I'm looking forward to seeing them on Sunday, Y/N said they'll be here.” Síle says, and places her cutlery down to reach for her glass.

“Yeah, dinner here every week. If I'm home, I do get Aran from school. Malachy stayed here the night before I went back there.” Cillian smiles, “I said to Y/N, wrecks the head that they're growing up.” He smirks, but you can see the nostalgia there.

“I only spoke to Yvonne a few days ago, she was wishing Griff a happy birthday and just chatting on about the boys. Do you get talking to her much, or just the kids?” Síle spoke delicately, without malice or deliberate stirring, but you still find your stomach dropping.

Swallowing his mouthful of beer, Cillian sets the bottle back down and shrugs his shoulders. “The odd bit, but it's usually only if it concerns the boys. Last I spoke to her was before I went away just to give her the dates when I'd be home because I knew the lads wouldn't remember.”

“And it's awkward?” She presses on and you catch Cillian's quick glance in your direction.

“It's grand,” he says and waves his hand. “I didn't know you two were still in touch though.” He says, and you examine the frown on his brow - is he angry, confused, both?

“Don't be reading into that,” Síle says quickly, “It's only to ask about the kids. And you two were together years, Cillian. I know things were difficult before you split up but I can't be a bitch to her entirely; she's raising my nephews.” You find yourself understanding Síle’s stance somewhat. “Are you gone moody now?” She challenges her older brother with a comical expression.

He shakes his head, once again turning down the corners of his mouth. “I'm not, no.” He sighs. His mood has shifted slightly, you can tell, but you're not sure what he's thinking of feeling.

“Cill,” Síle sighs. “I'm not ringing up and inviting her down, that's not what's happening. Birthdays, celebrations, yeah? That's all. And I just ask after the boys.” She explains.

“You can ask me,” he looks at her with a serious expression across his face. “I'm not so fucking far removed from my own kids that I couldn't answer ya.”

“I didn't say you were…” Síle says, and you can see she's taken aback by his snapping. “Cillian, I…” she shrugs her shoulders. “I shouldn't have said anything. I mean the conversations are so infrequent, it's just a touching base sort of thing occasionally…” she ambles for any way to fan out the flames, but you get the sense that everything she says digs her in deeper.

“It's been three years since the divorce, four since we split, and you're only now telling me that the two of ye are taking?!” He sits back in his chair and you feel awkward and anxious. You glance across the table and you can see your feelings echoed in Griff's expression. “I'm their fucking father, you can ask me, for fucks sake, Síle!”

“Cillian…” you reach out your hand as he gets to his feet. You appreciate his upset fully, but you suspect the ferocity of his reaction is rooted in his fatigue. Nobody says a word as he storms away, beer bottle in hand. You exhale heavily and glance first at Griff, then at Síle. “I feel like I warned you,” you say, trying to make light of the atmosphere as it pressed heavily down on the three of you.

You're grateful that she at least gives a grim laugh in response. “Yeah,” she shakes her head. “You did.”

[wispurring-moss]

wamt to draw. too sick & tired. wehh...

[thevoidstaredback]

How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have

Batman has an insane patrol schedule. Danny knew this, somewhere in the back of his mind, but it was only just settling in for him.

"You're gonna be dead tired tomorrow," he warns Dick, "You were tired for only being out for two hours longer than your new normal, going from sunset to sunrise is gonna knock you out. I can't drive, Dick, so we'll be stuck in Gotham for another day if you pass out."

Dick patted his head with a smile. "I'll be fine. I'll vene bring ya back some Bat Burger, okay?"

Danny blinked. "Bat Burger?"

"You've- You've never had Bat Burger?" Louder, he called to Barbra and Tim who'd just come back from wherever the Cave entrance is with a comm for Danny, "Danny's never had Bat Burger!"

Barbra gasped dramatically. Tim clutched ay imaginary pearls. "You've never had Bat Burger?!"

"That sounds like an exclusively Gotham thing, and I am decidedly not from Gotham."

It was quiet for another moment as the three stared at him. Finally, Dick blinked. "Have you always been Midwestern?"

"As far as I know, why?"

His head tilted slightly to the left. "Your accent just seems..."

"Much more prevalent." Tim finished.

"Yeah, that."

“I don’t know what you guys are talking about. I’ve always talked like this.” A lie. He was hiding his accent from everyone so that tracking him down would be ever so slightly harder. Danny shrugged, “Right, Barbra?”

She shook her head. "No, you leave me outta this. As far as I know, you've sounded like this the whole time and these two are only just picking up on the accent."

Good job, Danny. Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girlboss your way into their hearts.

"Anyway," Barbra continued, holding her hand to Danny, "This is a comm. It'll keep you patched in until we come back up to the manor after patrol. If you get tired of us or when you sleep, just take it out and put it on your nightstand; we'll take it back down in the morning for you."

"Are you sure you don't wanna come to the Cave?" Tim asked.

Danny shook his head, the comm now sitting in his left ear. "Mister Wayne already hates me, I'm not gonna go into his space. Besides, I'm already intruding as it is."

"I just don't want you to be bored."

"It's alright, I'm sure I'll find something to occupy myself with while you guys are out. And, isn't the whole point of me being on comms so that you guys can talk to me?"

"You're right," Dick agreed, "We'll see ya when we get back."

"Alright."

Occupy himself with? Yeah, he's going back to Bludhaven. Another problem he just realized, though: How is Bat Tech going to react to/around Phantom? Danny figures he has about two minutes to figure it out or he's gonna have to bench himself for the night.

There was no one around, so he ducked into the nearest room to transform. It was a quick lightshow, as always, but not enough to draw attention of anyone passing by.

Except Alfred. Alfred probably knows.

Alfred won't tell Bruce, right?

Right?

Probably not.

Hopefully.

Focusing on the comm revealed no static, though there was no sound either. Was someone trying to talk to him already? Hopefully not. That'd be upsetting.

There was a soft crackle before: "Danny, can you hear us?"

Phantom allowed a small smile of victory. "Yeah, loud and clear, Barbra."

"Call me Batgirl right now, okay? Tim's Robin, and, as you know, Dick's Nightwing. And, if you really need him, Bruce is Batman."

"Got it."

"We don't use real names on comms," Robin said, "Do you have something we could call you?"

That's probably a fish for what his hero name used to be. All three of them - Tim, at the very least - were hung up on the 'not anymore' of his denial and it really showed. He could make it easy and tell them to call him Phantom, but he really does not want them finding out his childhood right now. So, "Tutelary."

"'Tutelary'?" Nightwing asked.

"It's Greek," Batgirl said, "Tutelaries are deities or patrons of protection."

"Aw, that's cute," Robin cooed teasingly, "But you aren't doing much protecting from the Manor."

Phantom - is he really ready to give up that name? - blushed green, "Shut up. Protection Spirits are a big deal where I'm from!" Yeah, meaning most people don't actually think they're protecting them, but who really cares about technicalities?

"And that would be..?" Batman spoke up, his voice coming out much more 'gargle glass' over the comms than was probably intended.

Phantom smirked. "The Midwest." Limits options, but not specifically but he figured he could throw them a bone. Though, that's the only one he's giving Mister Wayne.

Speaking of, "I'll try not to be a distraction, Mister Batman sir, but I won't make any promises."

Nightwing, Batgirl and Robin were all sniggering. Batman was quiet for no more than a few seconds. "Stop getting distracted; We're leaving."

"Yes, sir!"

Phantom listened closely, focusing on the Cave below the Manor. Batman and Robin had gotten into some kind of assault vehicle-race car mix and were driving out into Gotham Proper quickly. Nightwing and Batgirl were both on motorcycles, leaving out a different way but just as quickly.

"Have fun out there, you guys."

Nightwing laughed, "We'll bring ya back some Bat Burger."

Part 15 Part 17

Real quick, before you move on, a quick Thank You to @bianca-hooks123 for the idea for Danny's name Tutelary. I hadn't even thought of using that until it was suggested, so thanks <3

[wordsaresimple-imnot]

Drunken Confessions - Bill Guarnere x F!Reader (1st POV)

Summary: The boys and reader are out for a night of fun and drinking that leaves the reader with little to no memories of what happened after she had a drinking contest with Babe. As things slowly start to drift back to her, she remembers one thing clearly; she spilled her true feelings about Bill to someone. But who did she tell?

Warnings: none really, cursing per usual. No use of y/n or physical description. She/her pronouns.

A/N: I have the biggest respect for the real life heroes of WWII (and all other wars, past & current), this work & all other works is based on the actor(s) and character(s) portrayed in the Band of Brothers series.

A/N pt2: This turned out longer than I thought it would starting out, but I let the fanfic gods guide my fingers and here we are, haha. If anyone likes this enough, I have an idea of a next day smut part 2 I can write. Comments, likes, and reblogs make my day. Thanks for reading!

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I wasn't sure what made me wake up. Maybe the skull splitting headache, or maybe the sun shining through the blinds hitting my face, or maybe the way I'd sell everything I owned for water or maybe my bladder being so full that a single sneeze would cause a mess. Whatever the reason, the barest of movements to open my eyelids made me want to die instantly. The only motivation I could grasp onto to get up was to empty my bladder. Dying from a hangover is one thing, dying in my own piss is not something I could ever live with. The logic of my thought made no sense, but what the hell did I care as I practically crawled to the bathroom.

Once I was relieved and able to draw the last bit of strength I had to splash water on my face and half-ass brush my teeth, I made it back to my bed with a little more dignity. Okay, it was still on my knees but at least I wasn't crawling. A win is a win. A full glass of water on my bedside table catches my eye and I down it quicker than I've ever done before, well except for maybe the drinks last night. How did this get here? No way I was coherent enough to pour a glass of water for myself to wake up to.

As I got more situated in the bed, very much facing away from the windows because I couldn't bring myself to gather any more will power to close them more properly I couldn't stop thinking about the glass of water. And then it hit me that I was not in my dress from the night before or even just my underwear but pajamas. Being aware of how little my brain and motor skills actually worked together when I'm more than tipsy, these things stood out. What the hell happened last night? I tried to focus on my last memories of the previous night hoping that would shed some light on my current situation.

~~ last night ~~

"Oh come on! Are y'all scared to lose to little ole me?" I smiled sweetly to the table, making my southern accent a little heavier to hopefully sway one of them to take on my challenge.

"None of us would lose against you, doll. We just don't want to deal with you tomorrow morning." Toye said, motioning around the table before pointing his finger directly at me. I rolled my eyes and leaned a little closer over the table.

"Nah, I'm sweet as pie darlin'. I think y'all don't want the news spreading that someone in Easy Company lost to a little farmer girl." I smirked at Toye and the rest of the men, daring them to deny it.

"Fuck it, I'll do it." Babe shot up from the end of the table and made his way over towards my section. I beamed at his cocky smiled and made shooing motions to Luz and Perco to make space so he could sit across from me. With a nod to Liebgott, I watched him go off to grab us our first rounds of beer.

As Liebgott made his way back holding two beers, I see Bull, Martin, and Bill following him from the bar.

"The fuck are you doing?" Bill's eyes bounced back and forth between me and Babe. Unsure of who was directing the question to, I shrugged and decided to answer.

"Babe thinks he can handle a drinkin' contest with me." I shoot Babe a wink as he narrows his eyes a little at me. I look back up to Bill when I hear him curse and turn more fully to Babe.

"Haven't I taught you anything? Don't start shit you can't win." He's poking Babe in the chest with every other word, making the other bat his hand away.

"Who says I ain't gonna win? Look at her, she's like a flower. This will be over by the third beer." Babe sits up straighter, setting determined eyes on me. He starts to look more annoyed than ever when Luz, Bull, and Tab start laughing.

"Anyone else, I'd say you had a chance. But she," Tab throws his arm over my shoulders, jostling me into his side, "has come the closest out of all of us to beating Bull. She lost, but damn it was amazing to watch." I give Tab a playful shove, righting myself back to a sitting position.

Babe's face has paled a little but somehow manages to look even more determined to see this through. "I'm still in."

"Perfect!" I smile at him, raising my glass to cheers him. "If I win, you have to be my shadow all day tomorrow to take care of me. If I win, you can get my cigarettes for the next two supply packages."

"Deal." Babe cheers me back, and we take our first sips of beer simultaneously. Bill looks beyond annoyed, muttering 'It's your funeral' and starts back to the bar. Bull sends me a wink, Martin a smile, and then follow behind Bill.

"Buckle up, Philly boy. You're in for a ride." I shoot a final wink at him, and then start inhaling my beer. Babe's shocked face and scramble to follow my lead is the last full coherent memory of that night.

~~

I groan in frustration as the rest of the night seems to dissolve from my mind and I can't comfortably say I know what is fiction and what really happened. I have a vague feeling dancing with Tab, Luz and Toye probably happened. Drinking usually turned to dancing in my case. I prayed that singing at the bar with Malarkey and Muck was fiction. It feels like a huge gap is missing after that (please be fictional) memory and then slivers of different memories start floating out. Suddenly I'm in a cold sweat as bits start floating in.

"He's alright but doesn't hold a candle to Bill. When he actually smiles, it's like seeing the sun shine."

"You can't tell him any of this. Swear it."

"No, I know his eyes and yours are too dark. His are warm and beautiful with small flecks of gold in them. I could drown in those eyes forever."

Fuck me, fuck my parents for having me, fuck my grandparents and ancestors for having them, fuck fuck fuck. I take it back, I'd happily sing drunk songs with Malarkey and Muck for the rest of my life if I can take those words back. And just when I thought my life couldn't get worse, I shot up in bed and another fact hits me...I don't know who I said all of those things to. FUCK!

Hours later, I'm still in bed trying to make myself remember anything about my mystery companion or at the very least come up a way to turn back time. Just as my stomach growls for the fourth time, there's a knock on my door and then it's swinging open. I jump up again for the second time that day.

"Hey sleeping beauty, how's the hangover?" Luz asks, all bright eyes and smiles as Babe follows behind him looking exactly how I feel. I shift up the bed to make room for Luz to sprawl out at the foot of the bed while Babe just curls into a ball next to me, back to the window and sunlight.

"I feel like death." I manage to croak out. It's the first time I've used my voice since passing out last night and you'd swear I smoked like a chimney from the sound.

"You look it too." Luz narrowly dodges the pillow I throw at his face. The movements cause Babe to give a pathetic whine and he curls up even more. "I don't know who pissed in your coffee, but this is not how a winner should be acting." I roll my eyes, smiling briefly as I get confirmation that I did win last night. My stomach growling again wipes it from my face.

"I'm starving. And if I won, that means you're my personal shadow all day today to help me feel better." I give Babe a small nudge, just enough to make him crack an eye open to look at me. "Y'all head down to the mess hall and get me two of everything while I get ready and meet you there."

After a few seconds of Babe making no moves to get up, Luz jumps up and all but starts dragging him towards the door. "Come on, Babe, you heard your mistress." Because his hands are full with Babe, he can't dodge the pillow I throw and gives out a low 'ow' as it connects with his face.

Just as they were about to close the door, I blurted out the question I've been trying to figure out. "Hey, who helped me home last night?"

"Not sure doll, I was playing darts with Martin, Bull and Babe." Luz almost had the door closed when he poked his back back in. "Why do you ask?"

I shrug, praying it comes out nonchalant while I'm dying inside. "Just needed to ask them a question. I think I lost something on the way home and just wondered if they knew about it." Something being my dignity. "Don't worry about it, I'll figure it out. Thanks." With a nod, Luz closed the door and left me to agonize alone.

The rest of the day was the most frustrating day of my life. Not because of the hangover, that started feeling better after I got some food and water, with a splash of hair of the dog, in me. Babe started to perk up too but was still definitely battling it so I took mercy on him and let him go back to sleep until his turn for patrol that night. I had the day off from helping Nixon censor mail and finalize reports so that didn't add to my frustrations. No, all of my frustration was because I spent the whole day tracking down the guys and asking who helped me home. They all gave the same answer: wasn't me.

Through my investigating, I was able to piece a loose timeline of the night. Once our game was over, I started dancing with Tab, the next song went to Luz, and I somehow managed to drag Toye out for the one after that. Once they all declined another song, I went to the bar to get another drink and ended up singing two bar songs with Malarkey and Muck, who afterwards started up a card game with Toye, Tab and Penkala that went on the rest of the time. I apparently stayed at the bar, chatting with Bull, Martin and Bill till Luz and Babe came over and got them to play darts the rest of the night. Liebgott kept me company at the bar, making sure I started on water but eventually left to start flirting with the barmaid that kept making eyes at him. My last hope was Perco but someone told me he left before I did to get some sleep before his morning patrol.

Just as the sun started to drift down, I was at my wits end. As a last ditch effort, I decided to write up a timeline diagram to triple check that everyone was accounted for. Surely one of the guys was lying to me and waiting to use my confessions as leverage for something. I move everything on my desk to one side and start making my diagram. By my third review of it, I can't shake the feeling that I'm missing something. So I write all of the men's names down and start checking them off as I mentally go over the stories again.

Luz...check. Bull...check. Perco...check. Babe...check. Liebgott...check. Tab...check. Toye...check. Muck...check. Malarkey...check. Martin...check. Penkala...check. There's no one left. I was just a lunatic talking to myself and somehow managed to get myself home and in bed like a sober person? Just as I was about to commit to believing that I realized I left one name off the list that didn't show up in anyone's story long enough to be crossed off. Bill...fuck.

I crumbled the paper and practically sprinted to my room, dodging soldiers and helpers like a madwoman. There was more foot traffic as the morning and evening patrol were switching foxholes and dinner was currently going. I managed to catch Babe on his way towards the mess hall and made him swear to tell everyone I was still feeling sick and would be in my room the rest of the night. Thankfully he was still feeling sick, so he took me at my word and didn't pay attention to my erratic behavior.

Back in my room I couldn't decide what I was more humiliated about; spilling my secret feelings about Bill TO Bill or being so drunk I don't know it was Bill I was even talking to. With a belly flop I landed on my bed, pressed my face into my pillow and let out a full body scream. Just as it ended there was a knock on my door.

"Go away, I'm dying." I moved my face to the side so whoever was there could somewhat hear me. It wasn't from drinking but hey, semantics at this point. The knock came again, this time more forceful. "Seriously, whoever is there just let me be." With a huff I push myself off the bed and swing open the door to reveal the cause of all my misery. Bill fucking Guarnere. Fuck me.

He's leaning against the door frame without a care in the world it seems and his signature smirk on his face. He'd never looked better. "You know my ma and sisters would come all the way over here and beat my ass if they ever found out I let a woman be miserable all alone. Especially without food." He raised a small bag to emphasize his point. Without waiting for me to answer, he brushed past me into my room and sat squarely on the bed, leaning against the wall, watching me.

Who knows how long it took my brain to send the right signals to make my body move, but eventually I broke our staring contest, closed the door and made my way to the bed. Because I was basically Nix's aid, I was able to get my own room but it was the barest of bare minimums. Side table, joining bathroom, and a bed against the wall. So the only place left to sit was on the bed with Bill, but I tried to put as much distance as I could so I sat crossed legged against the wall acting as the headboard and looked at the bag he still held.

"What's in there?" I decided the best tactic right now was to pretend nothing happened at all. So far Bill seemed to be of the same mind.

"Bread and some cheese. Didn't know how much your stomach could handle." He tossed the bag to me, nodding his acknowledgement to my quick thanks and I tore it open and started nibbling on the contents. After a few beats, he decided the best time to say something was when my mouth was completely full. "So...heard you lost something last night."

Next thing I know I really do feel like I'm dying as I choke on my bite of food, simultaneously batting away his hands that are trying to reach behind to pat my back. After I get small control over my breathing, I wipe the few tears that formed and down the rest of the water I had at my bedside. Two shaky breaths later all I can manage is squeaking out, "What?"

Bill looks at me with a sliver of concern that I'll start hacking up a lung again, but slowly his normal smirk starts to form and he leans back against the wall. "Luz said you were trying to figure out who helped you home last night because you lost something. Toye and Bull said you were pretty aggressive in your questions about everyone's activities last night. If you haven't figured it out already, I was the one that helped you get home from the bar but I don't recall you losing anything." His posture was relaxed, even lazy, but his eyes were hard and jaw was set. Challenging me to make the next move.

I cleared my throat two times, before I forced myself to speak. "Yeah, I actually figured it out a little bit ago." Bill inclined his head towards me, indicating that he wanted me to elaborate on the 'losing something' part. "I, uh, well I was just trying to figure out who helped me and didn't want Luz asking a million and one questions so that seemed the best answer."

"Why didn't you come find me once you figure it all out?" One thing about Bill Guarnere, he never pulled punches and was a hound dog when he set his mind to something.

"No reason...I, uh, well I just..." I turned all my focus on the crumpled paper bag in front of me so I didn't catch his eyes and completely spill my guts. Sober this time.

"Ah come on sweetheart, cat got your tongue now?" He moved to lean down on his arm, shifting closer to me. "Let me help you remember." With that damn, sexy smirk Bill started recounting the night before to fill in the blanks.

~~ last night, Bill POV ~~

I haven't taken my eyes off her all night. If anyone asked I'd say it was out of concern for how much she drank and watching out for a fellow soldier. That was partly true, but the majority was being jealous. Jealous for how easy she laughed and touched and moved with our friends. Don't get it twisted, we are friends too, closer than most of them but it's not as carefree as these moments I'm witnessing.

It can't be carefree because if I let my guard down for one second I'd spill my guts about how she makes me feel. How everything fades out around the edges when she gives that million dollar smile and her eyes crinkle a little at the sides. How I would do anything stupid again and again to make that little snort come out when she's laughing too hard and can't help it. How I want to protect her from this war so damn bad so I never have to see pain in her eyes. How I'd fight the entire Kraut army for the chance to kiss her just once and hold her in my arms.

But I can't say any of that because I'd rather suffer in silence than risk losing her from my life, even as just a friend. So I stay silent and keep watch as everyone around me enjoys their night without a care in the world, not knowing that my entire world is sitting at the bar alone.

She's just started on a second glass of water when some guy from Fox Company slides up next to her and starts talking. Whatever he said has her turning in her seat to point in the direction of Liebgott that left her for some barmaid. While she's focused on where Liebgott is, I'm focused on watching the guy shamelessly check her out. I down the rest of my beer, shove the glass into Luz's hand and march straight over to the bar before any of the guys can ask what I'm doing.

I make it over just as their hands connect and I can hear them exchanging names.

"I can't believe someone as beautiful as you is here all alone." I'm going to brake this guys jaw.

"She's not alone, private." I push myself to my full height and use my Sergeant's voice. This makes him stand up straighter and drop her hand.

"Bill!" She says my name with so much awe and happiness, as if she hadn't be around me in some fashion throughout the night. Being to drunk to care about policy or decorum she wraps her arms around me and gives me the prettiest smile.

"Hey sweetheart," I give her a soft smile back and wrap one arm around her shoulders, keeping her where she is. I look back at the private with a hard glare and raise an eyebrow. "Need something?"

"No sir, I just came to grab a drink. I'll, uh, I'll just get one over there." He practically runs to the other end of the bar, avoiding anymore eye contact.

A soft giggle, makes me look back down and smile again. "What's so funny, doll?"

"You didn't need to scare him, we were just talking." A piece of her hair falls against her cheek when she laughs again. I move it behind her ear, letting my finger graze her cheek before I answer.

"He wanted to do more than talk, believe me."

"What would I do without Bill Guarnere as my knight in shining armor." The smile she sends up to me is nearly enough to send me to my knees right then and there.

I wrap my other arm around her and drop a quick kiss to the top of her head. "You'll never have to find out, sweetheart. I'm always gonna be there." We stay like that for a minute, which isn't nearly long enough before I say, "Come on, lets get you to bed or you're gonna be dyin' tomorrow."

She manages to be get off the barstool and walk out of the bar so efficiently I wonder if she really is as drunk as I thought, but that hope is dashed once she stumbles over air and starts laughing. I can't help but laugh with her as I grab her hands to steady her.

"We should go dancing." She suddenly says and tries to get me to spin her.

"I don't think that's a good idea. Besides you probably want Tab for that, seems to be your favorite dancing partner. Always smiling at you and everything" I meant it to come out as a joke, but it sounded more bitter that anything. Thankfully she was in her own thoughts and didn't pick up the edge to my voice.

"He's alright but he doesn't hold a candle to Bill. When he actually smiles, it's like seeing the sun shine." She says it like it's a known fact and the most natural thing in the world for her say. It stops me dead in my tracks, which stops her because we are still holding hands.

"What did you say?" I tug her a little so she's turned around and looking at me. She gives a small shrug.

"Tab is cute and sweet but he's not Bill. I'd kill to dance with him and make him smile. It's so rare and makes my whole day when I can cause it."

"Sweetheart, you do know I'm Bill." I wait for the lightbulb to go off as she takes a step closer and looks at my face.

"No you're not, you're eyes are too dark."

"They're the same as they've been my whole life."

"No, I know his eyes and yours are too dark. His are warm and beautiful with small flecks of gold in them. I could drown in those eyes forever." She lets go of my hands and starts walking off to her billet. I know I have the goofiest smile on my face as I watch her, before it's wiped away by the realization that she can't remember who I am. Of course I finally get the girl of my dreams to confess her feelings for me and she doesn't even know it's me she's talking to.

Just as I'm catching up to her, trying to figure out what to say, she turns to me with a panic stricken face. "You can't tell him any of this. Swear it." She grasps my hands again, squeezing for dear life.

"Your secrets safe with me, sweetheart." I do my best to give her a comforting smile to ease her panic, which seems to work. We don't talk anymore the rest of the way to her billet but we do hold hands the whole way.

Once we are in her room, I can tell she's losing consciousness quickly. I find some pajamas for her to change into, helping just enough to make it easier for her change without seeing or touching anything inappropriate. As she finishes changing and crawls into bed, I fill up a glass of water and set it on the bedside table. I take one final look around to make sure she's comfortable and settled in properly before dropping a kiss on top of her head and heading to the barracks for some shut eye before my patrol.

~~ End of Bill's POV ~~

I feel my cheeks burning with embarrassment after Bill tells me the conversation we had. My eyes are firmly planted on the bag in my lap, that I've all but turned into confetti. I feel him shift on the bed again, so he's seated right next in front of me, but I can't bring myself to meet him gaze. His eyes never left my face the whole time he recounted everything and I'm too scared to look and see what emotion I'll find there. Amusement? Pity?

The decision is taken away from me when one of his hands cups the side of my neck and tips my head up to finally meet his gaze. There's a lot of emotion in his eyes, but I can't pinpoint what it is, which scares me even more.

"I'm sor-" I start to say but get cut off.

"Did you mean it?" His voice is soft but firm. He's not going to drop this and seems to be holding his breathe waiting for my answer.

"Yes." The word is barely more than a whisper but I know he heard it from the smile that takes over his face. Next thing I know he's leaning the rest of the way into my space, tilting my head to the side and softly pressing his lips to mine.

My hands reach up to fist his jacket, pulling him closer and the smallest whimper comes up when he nips at my bottom lip. My reaction seems to be all the go ahead Bill needs as he focuses on pulling me so we are flush against each other while taking possession over my mouth. At some point we rearrange ourselves to be laying on the bed, him draped over me like a second skin.

Our kisses between slow and languid to passionate and slightly frenzied. We don't know how long we stay like that, minutes or hours, but when we part our lips are swollen and we are breathing hard. Bill rests his forehead against mine and nudges my nose with his.

"Can I stay the night? No funny business, I just...now that I have you in my arms, I don't want to let you go just yet." He places soft kisses on both my cheeks and then my lips, looking at me with his heart in his eyes.

"I never want to be anywhere except your arms, Bill." I nudge his nose back and return the kiss he just gave. The smile he gives me has my heart melting and my lungs forgetting to breathe.

A few small kisses later, we've arranged ourselves into more comfortable positions; him on his back, me all but laying on top of him, our arms wrapped tightly around each other. Slowly we drift off to sleep with smiles on our faces thinking the same thing:

We have our whole world in our arms.

[tloujm]

Part XL: Lost

Author's Notes: Sorry for the late installment. This one is on the short side but I once again was rewriting the ending of things. Also, I hope everyone had a great Christmas and first day of Hanukah.

Summary: Joel gets a bad feeling that something's happened to you and goes to investigate. Does his worst nightmare come true?

Genre: Angst

Ship: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Joel made your favorite dinner in hopes of seducing you into a round two when you got back home from your usual walk. He was set to make dinner anyway but selfishly held out hope that you’d have at least an ounce of energy left after already having had two bouts of cardio for the day. 

In the meantime, Joel sneakily used his time alone with Ellie to try and get some information about the night before. He was still going to wait to have that formal talk tomorrow with you by his side, but figured it wouldn’t hurt to get a head start. Successfully, Joel managed to recruit Ellie into helping cook. She had an attachment to you so it wasn’t hard to convince her to set the drawing book down when he mentioned it was your favorite meal. Joel started with small talk for the first half of cooking but when it came time to set the table, he didn’t want to stall any longer.

“You know, we’ll probably start doing these more often; these…uh…family dinners. I know you’ve been in Jackson for a while now so if there’s anyone you’d ever want to invite over to hang out with and have dinner, that’s alright.” “Thanks, Joel.” Ellie offered him a smile before focusing back on the silverware.  He cleared his throat. “So, um, do you have any friends now? Not to say that you don’t…um,”. Awkwardly, he shifted the weight of one leg to the other. “It’s just I don’t see you really spending time with the other kids outside of school.” “I guess I have one good friend. The others,” She shrugged. “I mean they’re cool. I don’t talk to them as much though.” His eyebrows lifted. “Oh? Well one good friend is better than a bunch of not so good ones. Sometimes things happen in your life that end up showing you who your real friends are. Gotta do what you can to keep those people close and if they are someone you really care about, it won’t feel like work to do so and hopefully they would feel the same in return.” “Is that how you and (y/n) are? The two of you are close friends too?” Without looking up at Ellie, he offered a half smirk. “The closest.” “Closer than you and your brother?” “We’re a different kind of close. Me and Tommy were as thick as thieves growing up and—” “‘Thick as thieves’?” She scrunched up her face. “Never heard of that?” She shook her head. “It's a figure of speech. Just something some people say to mean very close. Anyway, we grew apart for a bit as teens but grew close again as adults then grew apart again for a while but now we’re good.” “What happened?” “Long story.” “I know I’m still a kid, but I can handle it. I’ve heard and seen a lot of things.” “I don’t doubt that, kiddo,” He sighed. “But if I were to tell you the whole thing, it would be too long. And maybe (y/n) should be there when I tell it; it involves her too.” “Where is she anyway?” “That,” he paused to taste test part of the meal. “Is a good question. She should be back by now; it's getting dark.” You never stayed out past sundown. His brows furrowed as he walked out the kitchen to check the charging station in the living room. “I knew I should have asked her if she remembered to take a walkie before leaving.” Ellie followed behind and noticed both walkie talkies lit up green on their charging ports.  “She’s probably on her way now. It’s still light out.” “Maybe.”

If Ellie wasn’t there, Joel wouldn’t have hesitated to put on his coat and go out looking for you. He pictured himself finding you walking down a random street that led to your house with an annoyed look on your face. He wouldn’t have cared what kind of attitude you gave him for needing to know you were ok; he was doing his job. He would take your hand, turn around and the two of you would walk back home together in peace. 

Ellie speaking up made him rethink. He didn’t want to leave her there alone. The two of you try not to leave her unsupervised because of how young she is despite knowing that she has a pretty decent amount of common sense and survival skills. He really didn’t want to leave her alone after the stunt she pulled last night. He thought about bringing Ellie along to look for you but considered her optimistic theory of you being on your way and decided to stay.

The food got cold as Joel and Ellie kept an eye on the door. The two of them made some small talk to pass the time but it was obvious that Joel was too anxious to hold a deeper conversation. He couldn’t help but feel this pit begin to form in his stomach. A growl came from Ellie’s.

Joel abruptly began wrapping up the food and putting it up. Within minutes, the two of you were walking toward Tommy and Maria’s house as it was on the way to Theresa’s at the edge of the settlement.

“Hey, Joel.” Maria greeted at the door. Turning around, she shouted. “Tommy, your brother and Ellie are here. Come on in.” Joel gently pushed Ellie forward. “I only came to see if you could watch Ellie for a while.” “I don’t need a babysitter.” She quickly butted in but just as quickly huffed and stayed quiet when Joel gave her the glare.  “What’s wrong, brother?” Tommy appeared behind his wife.  “It’s nothing. I’m going to Theresa’s to try and find (y/n).” “She didn’t tell you where she was going?” Maria asked. “She had plans to walk and hang out with her but was supposed to be home by now.” “I’ll get my stuff.” Tommy chimed up. “Nah, it's ok, Tommy. She probably lost track of time and is still up there or maybe I’ll meet her part way and find her already walking home.” “You sure?” “Yeah. I packed Ellie some food. We were about to eat dinner but were waiting on (y/n) to get back first, so she hasn’t eaten yet.”

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

Joel’s eyes darted onto each person that passed him by on the walk to Theresa’s. He was hoping that he wouldn’t have to go all the way there. It worried him. Did you go into labor and, without a walkie or Theresa not having a radio, not have the means to get help? Was she so exhausted that she fell asleep and Theresa let her crash? Joel wondered if he should have trusted Ellie to stay home and man the radio just in case Theresa went to the stables to let them know she was spending the night.

So many theories ran through his mind by the time he made it up to her front door. He knocked a couple times, giving a moment to hear for a response in between. He almost went straight to barging the door in before rethinking the handle. It was unlocked. 

“(y/n)!” Joel called out. Only silence answered him back. Theresa did not pop out the corner wondering why he was yelling. There was no baby crying, disturbed from her sleep. “(y/n)!” 

Joel knew that they could just be out still walking or doing God knows what somewhere else, but he couldn’t help the bad feeling lingering in the back of his mind. He tore through the house one room at a time. After a minute, he walked into the last bedroom down the hall. The door was wide open. What he saw stopped him in his tracks. His deeply furrowed brows loosened as his eyes widened at the scene. It didn’t make sense to him. 

Joel was hardly afraid of much. If someone were to ask, he’d say he was afraid of nothing at all. To you, he’d say, just as he did before, that he was only afraid of being alone again; afraid of being without you.

“(y/n).” Your name fell from his lips in a melancholy way, his voice cracking. He rushed to your side and laid his hands on either side of your head to straighten it towards him. “(y/n), get up.” 

Sliding them down to your shoulders, he shook you gently, then increasingly aggressive. The faintest moan escaped your lips. Joel couldn’t tell if he actually heard you or not, but needed to believe it was true. He slid two fingers under the curve of your jaw to try and find a pulse. It was slow and barely there, but you were still alive; he could save you.

He stepped back, pondering what to do next. He needed to move you, take you to the infirmary, but how? His eyes locked onto the pool of blood soaking the sheets that covered the bottom half of your body. Lifting it, Joel was met with a blood bath. The metallic stench of fresh blood reached his nose. A precisely cut umbilical cord was hanging off the edge of the bed with the attached placenta still between your legs. He was careful not to slip on what formed on the floor.

Joel’s eyes hardened and his lips curled in disgust. Not at the sight of you but at what Theresa did to you; at what he realized she really was. He’d done terrible things before but it was for the survival of him and the ones he loved. This wasn’t about survival. He didn’t know why Theresa did what she’d done, but all he knew was that Theresa was now a monster in his eyes.

“C’mon, baby girl, I gotcha.” Joel untied the ropes around your wrists and gently pulled the IV drip from your arm. He had flashbacks to that night in the firefly hospital where he found himself doing the same thing. The difference was that they hadn’t operated yet and you were just under anesthesia. With a loss of blood, he didn’t want you to fall deeper into unconsciousness. “You gotta wake up for me, baby. Just open your eyes a bit for me, alright?” Gingerly, he wiggled your chin and slapped your cheeks. Your head hung limp against his palm. Joel held back tears as he knew that time was of the essence. “I gotcha…I gotcha.” He repetitiously whispered in your ear as he slid his arms under your neck and knees. 

As dusk fell upon Jackson, Joel practically sprinted with you in his arms. He wrapped the duvet around your body as he lifted you out of the bed to not only keep you body temperature from dropping further but to also protect your privacy. He could feel the warm liquid of blood drip onto the arm cradling your legs together. Not many people were out walking the path he was, but the ones who were starred. He tried not to focus on their looks of confusion and worry by keeping his eyes straight ahead. 

Jesse was up in the watch tower with his partner when he spotted Joel. He appeared distraught. Even though the angle showed nothing to confirm, Jesse could tell by how Joel held the duvet cover that there was someone inside. Immediately, Jesse put down his binoculars when he realized that Joel was heading to the infirmary. The two still weren’t on the best of terms but were civil for your sake. Whatever concerned Joel, almost always concerned you and if it concerned you, his best friend, he wanted to be supportive.

“Hold down the fort.” Jesse said to his partner before practically sliding down the ladder “Joel!” The older man showed no reaction to his own name. “Joel, is everything alright?” Jesse questioned while trying to catch up. “Not now.” Joel said through gritted teeth. “Whatever’s going on, I can help. What’s…Who’s—?” Jesse cut himself off after finally matching Joel’s pace when he caught a glimpse of your hair dangling over Joel's arm.

Jesse could hardly keep up anymore as he suddenly felt winded. “If you want to help, go get my brother and meet me at the gates.” “But—” “Now, Jesse!” Joel practically growled. 

******

“Now’s not a good time, Jesse. What’s up?” Tommy greeted him at the door.  “It’s Joel and—” He tried to keep his voice calm and even. “Maria, I’m heading out.” He shouted into the house while grabbing his things. “He said to meet him at the gates.”  Tommy grabbed his jean jacket and pushed past Jesse, expecting him to catch up. “What happened?” “I saw him from the watchtower and he was carrying (Y/N).” “Thank God he found her." “Found her?” Jesse questioned. “She was supposed to be home a while ago but didn’t come back for dinner and you know Joel, he was worried sick. She was probably chatting away and lost track of time, but…wait.” Tommy stopped following Jesse. “Why’d he want us to meet him by the gate? Did he say anything else?” Jesse looked at him sorrowfully. “No. He was heading to the infirmary with (y/n) and just told me to get you and go to the gates.” “Infirmary? Damn it, boy, why didn’t you start with that? She probably went into labor at that friend’s house.” “She wasn’t in labor.”  “What do you mean ‘she wasn’t in labor’.” “She wasn’t awake. He had her wrapped in a blanket. Tommy, I saw blood.” “Fuck.” Tommy muttered. “You sure he ain’t say nothing else ‘sides meet him by the gate?” Jesse nodded his head. “We’re not going to the them gates.” “But…” Jesse began to protest as he watched Tommy walk off in the direction of the infirmary. Quickly, he followed. “What friend were you talking about before?” “Theresa, the woman we found outside our gates all muddied up with a baby in her arms a while back. You remember." “Her? I hardly ever see her around.” “(y/n) and her are friends and with her being in her last trimester and all…must’ve been complications. Why would he tell you to tell me to meet him at the gates? Makes no damn sense.”

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

Tommy burst through the doors of the infirmary with Jesse on his heels. Everyone was bustling around one bed in the back. That area, he knew, was reserved for operations. He spotted his brother being pulled away by an apprentice. She was trying to calm him down and ask him questions about your medical history. 

“It’s important we know some things about (y/n). Why don’t you sit down.” She guided Joel to a chair that he only looked at in disdain. He was too pent up with worry and rage to sit. “Joel.” Tommy called. Joel’s eyes darted between the two men approaching him. The younger brother saw the apprentice plead with him through her eyes to help calm him down. “Maybe we should sit down for a moment, huh?” “I’m not sitting the fuck down until I find her.” Joel exclaimed.  “Whoa, what’s going on?” Tommy asked. “Your brother brought his wife in with acute hemorrhaging and resulting in major blood loss.” “What?” The younger brother exclaimed. “Mr. Miller,” She directed herself toward Joel. “we’re going to send some apprentices over to the scene to investigate. Is there anything you can tell me? It could save her life.” “She was hooked up to an IV and tied down to the bed when I got there. I don't know what she was giving her but what I do know is that she kidnapped my child and left (y/n) to die.” “Theresa?” Jesse spoke up.  “She took the baby?” Tommy questioned. “Trauma to the body does appear to show signs of delivery.” “That’s my wife, not a body! She's not dead! You gonna keep her alive, alright?” “We’ll do everything we can.” She hoped she sounded confident.

[brightdarkness-2013]

Chapter 28: And Here It Comes!

Summary: The day of the attempted merge is drawing in.

Several days of what felt like wasted time. Several more days with Prowl making me learn his language rather than the other way around. Several days of Blaster laughing his ass off at me. I was about ready to throw in the towel. Sure I knew that I wouldn’t be gone for long if I did get frustrated enough to walk out, but it would be a great couple of days. I already knew how they would go. I would spend those days ignoring calls, listening to music, playing video games, and eating to my heart's content. Then I would come back and be back to this. But I wasn’t at that point yet. So here I was. Writing and rewriting symbol after symbol. Percy and Jack were having a field day with our notes on what these symbols translated to. I didn’t know exactly what they were doing with them, but I assumed they were trying to find a pattern or compare them to already know symbols and mer mythology or something. Whatever it was they were doing was going to be brought up to some serious big wig scientists and theorists at some point I was sure. Hopefully by then Prowl would be out of here and making a new home out in the ocean somewhere. I would miss him there was no doubt about that, but when it came around I didn’t want him being taken off somewhere and studied. He had already been through enough and he didn’t need anyone else poking and prodding at him.

“Ok. Done. How about we have some fun now, huh? Puzzles are great. Lets put together some puzzles. Or we can eat some candy. I’ll go get one of those mixed packs with kitkats, m&ms, and snickers.”

“Yeah he’s not going for it.” Blaster responded as he just shoved another carved coral piece at me before pointing to the seashell.

“Come on, Prowls. Doesn’t it at least Sound fun?”

“Jazz, your education is far more important than some candy and puzzles.” Blaster scolded mockingly. “You know if you learn enough words or at least get enough of them written down then we could write him a message to get him to understand that we’re trying to teach him Our language. And the more you get down the quicker that’ll happen. So get writing.”

“How about You waste all day writing nonsense and then ya can try and say that again.”

“It’s not nonsense. This is a real language of the sea here. And you’re the first to learn it so you should feel privileged.”

“Oh whatever. Besides as excited as I am that we could eventually speak to Prowl I really don’t want him stuck being interrogated and gawked at by people. I know the media would eat this up as much as some serious people in the scientific and marine fields, but in turn so would the public and… Prowl doesn’t deserve that. He’s been through enough.”

“I wouldn’t worry. Ratchet will keep people away if we can’t.”

“Yeah I suppose you’re right on that.” I laughed softly.

“After all this is a sanctuary for injured and ill mers. This isn’t a zoo you know!” Blaster did his best impression of Ratchet and I had to admit that lifted my spirits quite a bit along with pushing away my worry.

The people here were good. They cared for the mers. No matter how they acted they were worth protecting. No matter how damaged they were worth saving. Even if they seemed like they wouldn’t make it no matter what they did they would at least try. They wouldn’t let anything happen to Prowl. They’d fight it if they pestered him or tried to take Prowl away. I suppose this was why I liked the people here so much. The people here put some of my faith back in humanity. The faith I had lost through the years. What was eighteen years with neglectful and controlling parents compared to what I could do with the rest of my life? Sure most of the friends I would make here would be fish- mammals, but what did that matter in the long run? Maybe one day I could be fluent in Prowls language. At least writing anyway. Being able to talk to mers whenever would be pretty neat.

“So the big days tomorrow.”

“Huh? Oh. Right. I hope Prowl doesn’t rip their heads off or something. He really doesn’t seem to like them from long distance. I can’t imagine how he’s going to like them close up.”

“Eh. Prowl’s pretty level headed. He won’t go and attack them. I really don’t think it will end in violence this time around. I think the odds are good.”

“With how things are going I don’t think they’d hurt him either, but that leaves things up to Prowl and ya know how stubborn Prowl can be. If he says no he Never changes his mind.”

“Bribe him with a few m&ms every once in awhile to be nice and see where it goes.”

“I don’t think that will work out. If anything he’d take them anyway and still say no. He’d think I owe him for putting him in that situation.”

“Oh yeah. Well prepare for the worst and hope for the best then. The sooner he makes nice with one of the other pods here the sooner he gets out. Well after he teaches you how to write.”

“I know how to write.”

“Well he doesn’t think so. And what I mean is if things go well then we might have some more time with him to teach you his language. He’s the only one that’s actually tried or at least been willing to try and teach the language. At least to our knowledge. Maybe there is someone out there speaking and living with the mers or whatever, but this will be the only time it’s documented.”

“Who would have thought my seeing Prowl on a rock back in highschool would lead to this?”

“I know. Life really is something else.”

“The funny thing is I really thought that Prowl was an annoyance back then. I was walking home and then I ended up feeding him because he was too injured to hunt. Now I can’t picture my life without him there.”

Next

First

Masterpost

[lambhouse]

art block & burnout (and how i deal with it)

so i've been kind of Going Thru It lately, but then again who hasn't? life's kind of been an ongoing shitslide these past few years. and i can't say it's only now starting to catch up to me, because that would be a bald faced lie, but i think i've finally reached the point where i realize that for real, no cap, or whatever the kids say these days, change starts with me.

what does that mean, you ask? and what does it have to do with burnout and drawing?

well, i've been at my lowest for two years and counting now. i've had bouts of creativity and whole entire weeks of being productive and drawing like a machine and just generally being high on life, but those were just spikes of activity on an otherwise flat line. and i've been flatlining for months now. i know i'm due for a high at some point (it's how these things go), but this time i decided to get ahead of it and start building up some good habits so that when the next low hits, it won't be as hard.

this, at its core, isn't anything new or revolutionary and i can't say the tips/advice i have are universally applicable, but they will hopefully give you an idea of where to start, or at least give you a different perspective on how to go about applying any of the general art advice you see out there.

so without further ado, here is how i did this:

i started a new sketchbook last month. that, in and of itself, isn't a big deal; the big deal is that i kept up with it for a month straight. tomorrow is the actual 1-month anniversary (lol) of my daily drawing habit.

that's not particularly impressive either, not even for me. i've had periods where i drew regularly -- not 7 days a week regularly, but 3-4 days in a row every week and i kept that going for weeks. but i wasn't going through burnout at the time, and that's what makes this such an important milestone for me.

how i started:

it was rough, lol. looking back at this now i can see it's not a terrible first drawing but i remember how fucking stressed i was the entire time. my hands were shaking, i kept erasing and redrawing, i added color thinking it would make it look better, i even tried drawing from reference (the DRDs and the very faint flower in the corner) but i didn't have enough patience to really look at my references. overall it was a miserable experience.

but something good did come out of it, because i realized two things:

i was too mentally drained to draw from imagination, and

drawing in pencil hindered me more than it helped

now, drawing from imagination was what i always wanted to do and i could do it well enough and consistently enough when i was feeling good. but the whole reason i decided to build a habit like this was so i wouldn't have to depend on the whims of my brain chemistry anymore.

so drawing from reference it was. good thing i already had a pinterest board full of portrait references. i added about a hundred more to it that first night, just to have more variety, and that was enough to get me excited for the next drawing session.

now, the pencil thing. that's a bit tricky to explain and i can't promise it'll work for you as well as it did for me, but i think it's worth a shot.

the way it works for me is, the pencil is too easy a tool to use. even if you make a mistake, you've got an eraser and a million do-overs (or as many as your paper holds up to). so if i draw and erase and redraw the same line over and over again, at some point that starts to mean that there's something wrong with me, that i'm a shit artist, and what's the fucking point of doing it if i've basically got all the training wheels i need and i still can't draw this fucking eye right, or the mouth still looks weird, or the face is wonky. if the paper's good and the pencil lead is good quality and the eraser does its job well and still the drawing looks like shit, well, who's to blame for that? me.

i knew from the start that this was where i was headed if i decided to draw in pencil. even the very first sketches i did were in colored pencil, which is a step up in difficulty from regular graphite (they can be erased, but not completely). but obviously that didn't work as i had hoped, so more drastic measures were required.

so i decided to just rawdog it. i ditched the pencils entirely and took my tombow pens out of retirement. i only had five and two of them were different shades of pink, so not a lot of room to play with colors-as-values, but i made do. the three figures that look like they were drawn in pencil were actually drawn with the grey pen.

now this may seem counterintuitive. if erasing and redrawing stresses me out so much, how does drawing directly in pen make it better? isn't that just more stress?

yes and no, but mostly no. the way i rationalized it is, i can't make a perfect pen drawing even at my absolute best. there's just no way. but i can eventually arrive at a perfect pencil drawing, through a lot of trial and error and frustration, so why not take all of that out of the equation? frustration never helped me get better, it was just a creative sinkhole. so why not get rid of it? turn the possibility of failure into a certainty and work with or around that new certainty.

cut out the middleman, so to speak.

and it fucking worked.

-- for full disclosure, i've drawn in pen before. i started on a whim a few years ago and found it pretty liberating, so i kept doing it.

these are some of the first sketches i did in pen. they're pretty good, but as you can see from the date at the bottom, these were from before the Great Calamity of 2020 happened and everything went to shit. --

back to the thing.

so drawing in pen worked wonders to loosen me up and keep me going with the challenge -- or the building of a new habit. it certainly helped that i was also drawing portraits from reference and didn't have to think about poses, or features, or expressions -- they were all already there for me to draw.

not having to think about any of that also meant i had more energy to put into other things, like shading and coloring and how to simplify and stylize complex forms.

(i also got some poscas and four new watercolor makers. they weren't necessary for the process, but they were a nice treat.)

so i kept drawing. two days turned into three, into five, until i had a full week of daily drawings under my belt.

i hit a snag on day 8. (no pictures because (1) its fucking embarrassing, and (2) it's an oc design for a thing i'm still cooking and it's in the earliest of stages where the characters don't even have names.) i have a pretty good idea why day 8 was such a miss: i got overconfident. day 7 was a draw from your imagination day and it went well enough i thought i could do it again the next day. lol nope.

so i went back to my reference board for the next couple of days, but i had gotten a taste of true freedom (drawing from imagination -- and in pencil!) and i wasn't feeling the portraits anymore.

the next couple of days after that were rough (again -- no pictures bc uncooked oc's) but all the drawing from reference i did the week before had done me good. i had the willpower to keep going despite being unhappy with my drawings. they weren't bad drawings per se, but i was using my newly-found oc-drawing muscles and there were bound to be some growing pains. i was also drawing in pencil but by that point i had gotten used to making mistakes so i wasn't stressed about having to erase over and over.

(i don't think i actually erased all that much, tbh. i was instead using a blending stump to mask the wobbly lines.)

day 15. i didn't set out to draw one page a day but that's what ended up happening so i just went with it. i also only had an hour or two to draw and that's how much i was able to get done in that amount of time. slow and steady wins the race, i guess?

day 19 was i think the first time i drew in pen from imagination in a long time. i was also watching some vtuber drama nonsense on youtube and it got me thinking about making my own vtuber model. idek what a vtuber is or does but the process of making a model from scratch sounds interesting. (its also very time-consuming, i hear.)

anyway.

actual cooked oc's this time + a page of raziel drawn from memory to celebrate the news of the soul reaver prequel graphic novel that's in the making. (apparently dave rapoza is gonna do the cover art for it??)

and this is now turning into an art diary, but you get the gist. i kept going.

and going.

and going.

even when it wasn't fun. even when i didnt' feel like it. and maybe i havent built the habit all the way through yet, but the more i kept going the more i noticed how the "i don't feel like it" feeling became less and less intense.

it hasn't gone away completely. its 10pm now as i'm writing this and i know i have to open up my sketchbook and draw and tbh i don't really feel like it, but it's less that i'm drained and more like "but what if i fuck up a perfectly good page?"

and i know how to deal with that. i pick up a pen and fuck it up on purpose, and then i look at what i have and start problem-solving.

because that's what gets me through it.

not having a clear, concrete problem to tackle is what kept me stuck in limbo for so long, it's what's at the core of my burnout. you'd think creating more problems on purpose would make the burnout worse, but it got me out of the black hole of indecision and anxiety. because if it's something that i made, it's something i can unmake. it's something i can fix.

so i'm fucking fixing it, one step at a time.

[portablecity]

So, some news: tomorrow morning I'm having surgery on my right arm - my dominant arm - my drawing arm, my writing arm, my brushing-my-teeth and typing-in-chat and unlocking-my-door arm - and will lose most use of it for years, and an unknown (but hopefully less dire) amount of use of it forever. As you might expect, this sucks so, so bad.

As you can see above, I have been trying to proactively warm up my left hand so I can still write and such once this happens. As you might also detect above, it has not felt great.

(complements on my left-handed writing are not welcome; the feel of it is so alien that even if it looked perfect, i'd be upset)

So while I go in to get that done, I was wondering if you'd be willing to reply or repost or something with a thing you like about my work that isn't about how it looks? So I can go back to this post when I get real depressed afterwards and remind myself I'm more than my line quality?

And if you are curious, slightly more explanation with anatomical specifics below the cut:

so it turns out I have a peripheral nerve tumour on my radial nerve above my elbow in my right arm - it's been slowly preventing me from lifting up my index finger (extending it) and more and more the rest of my hand's extension has been weakening. scans show muscle atrophy in my forearm, so not only is the nerve weakening, it's been weakening long enough that the muscles are getting noticeably less use.

from what we know, the tumour is benign, but it's not possible to remove it without removing a chunk of the nerve, and likely fully severing the nerve. and though benign, the tumour has been steadily growing and is likely to continue doing so, where it would eventually effectively sever the nerve all on its own.

so this is a preventative surgery where we take the tumour out before it withers all the radial offshoot nerves farther down my arm, and graft in a spare (well, less important) nerve from my ankle, and hope that the graft takes and the nerve has a chance to heal and then let me rebuild my muscles and recover some hand and wrist extension. How much is not known. Complete recovery is impossible - some nerves in there are already dead and no amount of grafts and occupational therapy can change that, and more will wither while we're waiting for the graft to heal.

Motor nerves can only heal for so long, so I'll know more about my expected lifetime function in a few years. Likeliest outcome is followup tendon reassignment surgery to try and fill any dire functional gaps, and then what will presumably be a bit of a mind-fuck of physio trying to teach my brain that one of my flexion muscles will then be responsible for extension of fingers or wrist or something.

What's confusing about this is, my other arm nerves are all fine.

Ulnar? Doing great. Those nerves you fuck up with carpal tunnel? that I fucked up in 2008 and have spent a decade and a half taking very careful care of? really solid, healthy nerves! good job past Shel!

So I'm certainly not losing 100% of hand function; I'll still be able to curl my fingers and thumb and actively bend my wrist down - I just likely won't be able to reverse all those movements. Hell, already I can tell how much weaker my right hand is at typing - writing this after a day of spreadsheets at work is really wearing it down.

It's surreal how much all i feel is grief about this. There's no one to be mad at, not even myself - it just, sucks. Can you hold a funeral for your handwriting? your markmaking language? your line quality? your ability to touch type up to 140 words per minute? your confident, trained, controlled method of self-expression? RIP, radial nerve. I already miss you.

It's been a 13 month gauntlet of medical appointments since I first saw a neurologist about this and it's a relief to finally have the surgery, but i do really appreciate all the other scans and tests and biopsies - they gave me enough information to make this legit horrible decision to try and save what function I can for tomorrow by making today awful. And to try and become ambidextrous, I guess, because god knows I'm not stopping making art simply because my body betrayed me. It'll just be ... not what I think of as my art, for a while, at least.

[skwpr]

How To Take Great Study Notes

Take Great Study Notes That Make Exam Prep Easy-Peasy.

Why We Do NOT Take Notes

To start, let’s consider reasons not to take notes:

Not to document everything said during a class

Not to document everything you read.

Not to fill up a notebook.

Hopefully, you get the idea! Notes should NOT be a comprehensive document detailing all of the facts. This is what a textbook is for. You can always look up specific concepts in your book or online if you need a more thorough refresher.

Why We DO Take Notes

Now we know what not to do, so let’s talk about the real purpose. There are two goals for taking notes:

Document information pertinent to you. Your notes should not look like your friend’s notes. You both have different experiences and prior knowledge; your notes should differ to fit your own individual needs.

Collect your thoughts. When you are learning something new, the information is not stored in memory. Notes help you to initially get the information into short-term memory. Through continual practice and study, we can move it to long-term memory.

If you’re just starting a course, you may be thinking…I need to write it all down! When we begin to learn a new subject most of the information can feel new. It is likely true your notes will be longer as you begin, but follow these two tips for taking better notes and you will immediately see the power of notes to help you study.

Get Organized

To create notes that will be a useful tool for studying you need to create one central place to keep everything related to a specific course. There are a lot of options on how to do this:

Have a single notebook or binder for your course

Use a digital tool like OneNote or Evernote

Keep a folder of Word documents

By getting organized upfront you will be able to find what you need when it matters. If you sit down to study and only have 30 minutes, you need to make your time count! Knowing where your material is so you can get started will make you a more efficient student.

Most courses either follow a textbook in order or have a syllabus with a set of topics in order. Use this order to set up your system. If there are 12 chapters, go ahead and make space for each chapter. If there are 10 topics, make a space for each topic. By doing this ahead of time, you are ready to add notes at any point.

Take Great Notes: Keep It Short

You’ve got a system. Check!

You’re in the right spot to work on Chapter 1. Check!

Now it’s time to start taking notes that are going to be beneficial to study from down the line. You want to write short facts, not long paragraphs. When you are in class, or when you are working through the course material, try to take the shortest notes possible. As long as it will make sense to you tomorrow, it works.

Imagine going back over each of these notes in three weeks as you study for an exam. Which is going to be faster and easier to review? Just looking at the notes on the left makes my brain feel tired and overwhelmed. The notes on the right feel much more do-able. I can remember those three facts!

important dates

new terminology

important names

formulas

steps of an important process

references to charts, tables, graphs, or other visuals

questions

Questions? You Betcha.

Absolutely! You especially want to jot down questions as they come to you, and mark them so they are easy to identify. I like to draw a big question mark in the margin or use the question mark icon in OneNote. If you skip this step and don’t write down questions, you will forget them. And then you don’t know what you don’t know. This is an easy way to fall into the “I don’t know what to study” trap.

When you do write down questions, then you know what to study. I need to figure out the answer to these things. When I have answered all of the questions, then I can work on memorization to get prepped for the exam.

Do A Quick Review And Revise.

Notes taken on-the-fly are not going to be cohesive or coherent. This is normal! What we do need to focus on is spending 10-15 minutes reviewing and revising notes after they are taken. Can you rearrange information so related information is together? What information did you write down but doesn’t really seem important any longer? What already lodged itself in your short-term memory?

Bonus tip: Schedule a 10-minute comprehensive review session every day. Use your time to review your existing notes. Your comprehension will go through the roof with this strategy and final exam prep will be painless.

[bvannn]

Weekly Update May 3, 2024

Tomorrow I graduate and get my degree. I know most of what I post is art and music so it might be a bit of a surprise to some of you to learn my degree is actually in chemistry! I worked really hard for it but got all A’s and B’s this semester. Really sad my internship is over but I’m hoping I’ll get a permanent job like it soon. I’ll be returning to my lab job from last summer pretty soon, but I think I might have next week off, at least for the most part, so I can make up for all the art work I didn’t do this week.

The main thing I did was work on the comic. I can probably finish the page I’m on in one more sitting. I’d guess I’m still only around 11 or 12% done, but that’s fine, I’ll have much more time to work next week so I hope progress will be faster. If anything having more time will bore me, and when I’m bored I have to work on something. Last night I stayed up real late for an anime campaign game (worth it) and whenever it wasn’t my turn, I’d draw.

I also did a bunch of songwriting stuff this week, trying to work more with lyrics. BATB lyrics are probably 50% done, also threw together lyrics that maybe I’ll turn into another smaller song, or maybe I won’t. If I get that one done I won’t need to prepare anything elaborate for visuals like the others, but also it’s so half baked that I’m not sure if I’m going to invest more time into it. I haven’t touched any other music projects this week.

I didn’t do anything with animation this week. Not even writing. I’m planning to invest more in that next week, too. I’ll try to get back to actually making the puppet rigs next week, since having three things to alternate between should keep me from getting too bored. Also because the new FNF update has real fun animations and make me want to flash animate again. Again I’m not sure how much I’ll need to animate in flash vs CSP, but I think getting faster at rigs will be a good skill to have. Plus I’m getting attached to the Kyo design, I might pull a nem or neru and rename him and split him off into his own character. If I do I’ll post a little character sheet for him, since he’ll probably be relegated to music related projects.

Last thing: TTRPG stuff: playing in the campaign last night helped me finally get unstuck on the campaign I’m writing, for real this time. Plus, for the next session we have to make new characters and happened to roll one of my favorite words (three guesses what word), so I expect to get very attached to that character. At night and in the car ride back home on Sunday I’ll try to write more, although good chance I’ll just be getting that character sheet ready and then take a big nap.

Next week I’m going to rest first and foremost, but then I’ll inevitably get bored and put in a rotation of projects to do, and hopefully have more to show. I’ve done a fair amount of smaller doodles that I’ll try to trickle out this weekend, and next week I’ll try to throw together a flash puppet, get more storyboards done, and more comic progress. Not necessarily in that order of priority. And then for smaller writing projects will be more epithet work or more song lyrics if I’m ambitious. I’ll try to get a schedule together on Monday, maybe I’ll post it if it’s good enough. Bottom line is I’m going to try to get back to doing art projects right as soon as my health is back to normal. I’ll also be in an area where I can get access to produce as well, so I’ll try to eat healthier to boot.

[hospitalterrorizer]

diary476

1/15-16/25

wednesday - thursday

where did the time go!!

i thought it must be midnight, but it's actually 4:30-ish in the morning!! that's crazy. today was basically fine, i'm only now realizing how tired i am. i drew, at least:

i drew over one of the recent ipcam images uploaded by dawatcher yesterday. tomorrow i think i need to do some kind of study of actual people's faces/heads again, which is stressful/irritating in ways but it's also important. i need to do better nose shapes... also eyes are a constant issue. i never get them roughly the same quick enough. always a struggle. i'm also going to try doing things like this over stuff i've done, i have some screenshots from video i took that i wanna draw over. i always put that off though, because i'm thinking, it won't be good enough, but i can reuse a canvas if i want to. this is all practice until i like something enough to say it isn't or something.

i also worked on music today, more guitar sound stuff but then i started going back to old stuff i've got sitting around, and worked out more riffs to put in there, basically got more figured out and one thing i'm really pleased with is getting more stuff done that's 2 panned guitars doing weird and freakish things in both channels. real usurp synapse type stuff...

i should do a song where i go rawr rawr rawr rawr rawr, rather than whatever it is i normally do. or work on going rawr rawr rawr rawr more on top of my annoying stuff i do. one thing w/ the panned guitars track i did today, is that it's a little hard to pick it out, i think i need to get a little resonant bump in the sound on the left channel to get things to sound a touch more present.

but i'm just very pleased with the sounds i've been getting from songs... i keep putting it off but it does feel like time to go back to one of the problem songs and untangle that mess, stick a new guitar sound in it, try and go from there, see if i still like it after that.

on friday a friend is coming over so it's important to not mess up my sleep... today i felt bad about stupid things a little, and realized that my feeling bad was stupid, i get irrationally freaked out over certain things. i started thinking about maybe trying to get money somehow. i don't really want to work, i don't even have work shoes fit for like a kitchen, at this point, so i'd need to get retail work if i'm going to be walking anywhere for work. but maybe something remote. if i can just have a remote work thing and then at some point dip out of that, that's all i really think i can do. i just really think i need to save up and buy some stuff, plus keep enough money to buy skincare stuff when i need it so i don't have to depend on my gf so much...

i'm tired though, and everything is basically fine, and will be fine. i wish this short film thing would move ahead, i'm in need of the money from finishing that. he's good about paying me it's just that his editor is slacking and totally slow and a crazy perfectionist i guess. i hope it's worth it, is all i can say. it is making the director angry, last i spoke to him he was rather bothered by all of this. he said some time in february, hopefully that is how things go.

i need to sleep though,

so,

byebye!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[the-midnight-kala]

Day #2 19/9/2024

Maybe if I continue at this for a couple more days I'll actually create an about me page or something to keep of these entires organized.

Today was actually pretty alright! I woke up late so I was kinda pissing bricks about being tardy. But at the same time, the class isn't too strict with lateness so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I ended being an hour early like always so I guess it all turned out alright. Art history was interesting and I didn't sleep mid way the lecture for once lol. For some reason the discussion of Sumer and Mesopotamia really intrigued me, however the minuets still felt like hours. I wrote many pages in my notebook (maybe you guys will get to see a page soon) my notes aren't pretty but hey I have an A in that class so it still works nonetheless. And FYI for anyone needing tips about college; BRING A SWEATER. It was freezing in that lecture hall://.

Lunch soon rolled around and I got out to hang out with my friends. I know many people say not to hang out with high school friends during college but I forgot how difficult and awkward it is to make new friends. I feel like I come off as nerdy or weird (is that an incel thing to say? idk) But I really enjoy my friend's company. For this blog I'll just call them M and D. M and D are nerdy teenage boys that spazz about Death Grips, comics, just nerdy shit. And talk about the occasional cute girl. M is really into a mutual of mines and I find it cute how head over heels he is lol. I picked up a bagel to enjoy not knowing that these 2 were gonna drag me to a Chick fil-A once again. Ordered a chicken sandwich combo alongside with that bagel (felt fat but ehh I skipped breakfast) . The whole lunch consisted of M and D shit talking a guy who latched onto them awkwardly and how D is infertile. Hearing about a hernia messing up a testicle isn't the most appealing thing to hear while you're eating lol

Foundation class was uneventful. Despite my focus being photography, I still have to draw from time to time. We practiced perspective and drew some still lifes. Doodled a little bit as well but I doubt that I'll show them here unless requested I guess.

The ride back home wasn't bad either, nothing that stood out to me in the subway. To be honest, I was daydreaming about the date I have tomorrow with my boyfriend. It's weird to think about how we've been together for over a year now and I still laugh and giggle like a teenage girl. In this blog I'll call the boyfriend E. I still listen to the playlists E made when before we even got together and I never skip the songs either. With stress from work and life, I feel like I deserve the bagel and I deserve the first time trip to Olive Garden with E.

With E actually going to uni, I feel like I am behind in school compared to him. I often diminish my major because he's studying in STEM. But no matter how low I think of myself, he seems to remind me that I'm just as capable as him. It doesn't matter that I'm majoring in Studio Arts and he's a STEM student. And it doesn't matter that he's attending a well respected University while I'm attending the local community college. We both are gaining education and becoming first generation college students . Hell we both are first gen high school graduates. With E, I feel like I can accomplish so much with him and not against him. (Imma stop before I get too emotional lol)

I got some work done, hopefully by tomorrow my weekend will be cleared. I'mma shower, shave even and count the hours till I get to see my bf again<<33

Good night to whoever read it all, you a real one lol

Here's the bagel with the Chick fil-A in the background lol

song of the day btw

[nathank77]

8/22/24

8:16 p.m

I hate that I can't sleep without drugs. I hate that I need them. I hate that no matter what sleeping drug I'm on the risks are high and it's all just to sleep something most people can do in 2 minutes after a long day.

How did last night go? Well I slept and fairly well. I know I woke up at 12:48 a.m or so and after that I was asleep until 8 a.m or so.

I struggled to sleep but didn't have much anxiety. It must have taken at least 30 minutes but I didn't wait for max effectiveness.....

I heard my tv sleep timer go off at 11:13 p.m. I'm pretty sure I was awake. See I dream of not sleeping a lot... I believe it was real. But usually I turn on the tv and I chose not to. I am like 70% sure I had had my eyes closed for like 30-45 minutes and didn't fall asleep.

I looked back at the American dad episodes that played and see the weird thing is Two of them I don't remember. Although at 12:48 i turned it back on for 1 hour to drown out the hallucination in case it took me a while to fall back to sleep. I'm about 90%, sure I did which would explain the 2 extra episodes cause.... I fell asleep very quickly at 12:48 I didn't need the Melatonin thats for sure. But the other 3 episodes I remember listening to. I guess the last two played at 12:48 a.m when I went back to sleep. And I must have heard the tv sleep timer go off at 11:13 p.m....

But sometimes I think it wakes me up bc it's loud.. just not last night...

I think I fell asleep very shortly after not turning the tv back on. Sometimes I think the sleep timer wakes me up... but I'm sure most nights that it didn't....

When I woke up at 12:48 I went to grab a protein bar and some more Melatonin. I swear I grabbed a pure Protien bar from the pure protien box but it ended up being a think bar.

When I looked this morning there was also a quest bar in the pure protein bar cardboard box bc when I put them in the storage bin cabinet I had to mix a couple to allow the draw to close and open. I still think it was weird. I didn't see the package when I opened it but when I ate it I recognized it was a brownie think bar.

I thought it was weird but I must have seen the chocolate pure protein bar and grabbed the think bar. Idk.

I'm taking a 1 again tonight to try to get my circadian rhythm right. Tomorrow it's the original dose and weed worst case or an all nighter.

I mean I took my Methimazole early today a few hours before my l salvariuos... so hopefully fixing my circadian rhythm will fix my insomnia and taking my Methimazole a few hours before my l salvariuos will fix my tsh.

Idk I feel hopeless.

I hate how I feel like I never slept when my tv is off. Cause you go from closing your eyes trying to sleep to waking up with your eyes closed and the hallucination. I felt like I hadn't slept from 11 to 12 but I know I did cause there is no way I wouldn't have turned on the TV to drown it out. It drives me crazy. I can't fucking stand it or being alive.

I just wish it would stop.

I wish I could find a partner my life feels fucking pointlessly sad. I can't even sleep.

I'm disgusted with myself that I have to take a psych med to fall asleep or ANY med at that rate

I just wish I never met Kristen and I had a competent therapist and I never got psychosis and I was sleeping like I used to and still able to smoke weed and nothing changed.

Cause in my experience life just gets worse and I'm sick of being here.

Tomorrow is going to be my true test of circadian rhythm... If what I did last night and tonight doesnt work I guess I'll go on methimazole everyday as of the 24th... I have to say I tried everything... cause tbh methimazole doesn't effect tsh and I want to listen to my Dr's original advice.

[exlwandering]

Finally wrote something for the first time in months. 11.7k words. Don't ask me how I don't fucking know.

This is gonna be a slow burn romance about my ocs Celica and Lemal. Neither are human, Celia is Kinda like a rabbit and Lemal is more akin to a raven. Okay. gonna word dump now. Tried to edit but if it's... weird. or has any typos... You know what to do. Enjoy Chapter one! More may come. hopefully.

Celica

In my dreams, since I was small I have always had a nightmare. Dark feathers wrap around me delicately, silently, rising and falling with the breath of a beast that lays beneath me, it sleeps many hours but it will awaken, my whole life this dream has only gotten that far, me sitting in silent terror of what would happen to me if I awoken such a beast, but last night. It woke up, with no real reason other than it tired of its rest, I put my arms out to stop it but no matter how I fought it was upon me, beak tearing into my flesh, massive claws tearing me apart and breaking bones, teeth finally pulling my flesh out to finally consume me. No matter how quiet I had always been, how soft or sweet, how light I had been on its back, I knew it would wake no matter how hard I prayed. 

I woke up with a jolt. I lay in my bed, soft and plush, the sun rolling into my room through the open window, the curtains blowing in the gentle breeze. Lighting up the floor and  the edge of my bed. For a moment I just sit there breathing in the moist air of new spring, that is of course before I remember the day. Today is the eve of my wedding. 

I stumble out of my room, still in my nightgown, walking past servants and siblings alike, all my brothers and sisters stop to stare at me while I keep walking. Pushing through the dining room doors hoping to find solace in a warm meal. I first spot my Papa, tired eyes and panic lining his face and he turns away from a guest of some sort, his whiskers on end, ears perked in distress, crown lying unworn on the table. This strikes me in my tired state, he never likes to take it off, with so much family people forget who he is to them, it helps to remind them that they should respect him,of course it rarely works with actual family but still. I turn to my mothers spot at the table where she is crying. Crying. My mother is sobbing at the table while turning to me finally. This sobbers me up for a moment as I take a full sweep of the room and  finally notice our guest. 

Tall, much too tall, his feathered head almost reaching the ceiling, or it would had he not been crouched over the table with pen and parchment under his massively large clawed hands. His eyes are black and glossy and pointed totally at me before they glare disapprovingly at me, I remember I'm in my nightdress. 

He lifts his paper for me to see, it’s not in my language but in Scalsy, the written language of the predators of the west, something I learned to read alongside my own language while I was still very little. The paper reads, to my great dread, “It's time to go.”  Four simple words that will leave me dead by tomorrow. But I don't say that. All I say, in as much of a voice that I can muster is, “Alright. I'll get packed,” he seems to wince at this, holding one of his ears, or where his ears would go, in place is a tuft of feathers that just looks like an ear. 

“Hold on,”  Papa starts, “She's not going anywhere!”  Papa has a snear across his face, showing his neck breaker teeth in a promise of violence. The man doesn't respond much other than in annoyance. He turns his head to write again. After a moment filled with scribbling sounds he lifts his paper again. To my father who draws a quick breath in before growling low, “You wouldn’t fucking dare!”  The man then turns the paper to me with small amusement playing at the base of his beek, he’s smiling. The paper reads, “It’s this girl or we take another, your choice.” 

“I'll go, I’ll go!” I put my hands in front of me, he again covers one of his ears and lets out a small growl in my direction, my father looks defeated. The man writes again, “Go get dressed and packed if you aren’t already. Now.”

I run to my room on all fours as fast as I can and start shoving my pants, shirts, books, and many pens in a chest. Once finished with that, I darted out of my nightgown and into a nice dress that had been left in my near empty closet. I turn again to my room for any keepsakes I want to take with me, pictures of family, drawings from my little siblings, my pocket watch, a bag of berry bush seeds, my newish diary, several empty diaries, and a small but bright candle, as well as something to light it. 

Papa came bounding after me and had been saying my name the whole time I was shoving things away, he finally grabbed me by the shoulders, shaking me out of my panic but also shaking small sobs out of me. It takes me a moment to stop them. He hugs me softly. 

“Celica, I had a gift for you,” he let’s me go from the hug I so wish never would end. I look at him and then look down at his hand, small and soft, the pads slightly covered in his brown fur, he’s holding a small locket. He puts it around my neck slowly and lovingly, I hold my hair out of the way, the mess of soft curls getting tangled in the chain.

Once he’s done I open the locket and see the portrait of my great-something-aunt and her husband. I remember hearing her story for the first time, huddled in a soft blanket in my fathers lap. How a predator had butchered her, that only taters of her clothes and blood had been found, the rest of her likely consumed. 

A quick moment of fury filled me, of all days to give me this damned thing. Why today? When I’m to marry the king of the predators? The one who is likely the most vicious?  What the hell would have led my father to hand this over now? I looked up at him in fury and then stopped short, tears pricked his eyes. 

“Don’t forget what they do, how they butcher us. Stay safe.” The last part was a whisper, his tears falling with his voice. 

I hug him again, then whisper back, “Yes Papa.”

…

A loud thump fills my ears while I sit outside next to the carriage. It’s massive yet elegant, but I can't really care about it. I am a bit grateful tho, Mont, as the man reveals his name to be lets me say goodbye to my siblings and even some extended family, this is of course before he knows how many of them there are, after the tenth good bye he scribeles something hastily down, “For fucks sake girl, how much family can one princess have??”  I don't tell him there are many more of them out of fear he'll change his mind. 

Mont pulls me out of my thoughts for a moment, tapping my shoulder with his massive yet rather dull claw. He’s written again. 

“Finally time to hit the road girl, get your father. Then we'll leave.”  He turns to enter the carriage. 

“Alright,” I respond before darting to the other side of the carriage, fathers just staring out into the woods. 

“Hey,” I grab his coat and give it a small tug, “It’s time to go Papa.” I speak softly, I don't really know why other than it might serve to soothe him. He looks at me a moment before finally following me, holding my hand the whole way through. And then I hear my mother talking inside of the coach. 

She’s talking faster than Mont can write about whether she can come, if there are any laws against it, about why he won’t talk, about why he’s so rude. I know what she’s doing and I almost go to stop her but I don't. I want to see if it works. It doesn't help that Mont is a rather slow writer, or that he clearly is running out of paper. Finally he throws his pencil down in rage and motions her to stop talking, after a heart beat he nods in defeat. 

“I'm coming with you, and no one can stop me!” she screams from the coach before a snarl of pain follows, she quickly apologizes before we clamber in the coach ourselves, happy to be able to laugh together one last time.

My mother, as the ride continues, does not stop her questions, my father had long since gotten used to her very… Inquisitive nature, but Mont, with his apparently sensitive ears and being now trapped in a small space with my mother, looks like he's about to chuck her out of the window, so my Papa and I try our best to stop her questions. Now is a time to be quiet. 

There are times however when Mont does accept questions, through writing he told us 1 question each so that he could quote on quote, “give himself some peace”  My mother goes first, after a moment of great thought. 

“Can you really not talk?”

His response, “Of course I can talk, you little things just can’t really hear us, this (writing what he’s saying) is better.(apparently)”

My father has no questions so he gives me his. My first question is: “Why did they send you (a slow writer) to get us (those who can’t even hear you)?

His response: “King Lemal is my best friend, I promised I’d keep you things safe. Wouldn’t want a dead bride now would we?”  

I’m tempted to make my next question: “Or a dead princess? Queen? Or even a dead King?”

But I quickly remembered how little the predators valued us, only being meek and eager “prey.”

So I instead asked: “What is King Lemal Like? As a person not a king.”

His response was rather long and thus took him several minutes, but when he was done: “Lemal is proper and quite respectable, but wild when he wants to be.  He’s pretty smart too, though is more of a smart-ass than anything else.  He’s into reading and hunting, obviously, and he’s a bit creative with his nonsense. I wouldn’t worry about how he’ll treat you given his excitement for you. But he’s king, and you’ll be queen, so what does it really matter what he’s like, it’s not like you have a say either way.”  

While that last part I know is true, it still scares me so I’m silent the whole rest of the ride, resting between my parents one last time. 

I can’t help but think about how this has played out so far, about were it’s going, so quietly, while everyone is asleep i dig into my bag and pull out my pen and diary, going as quietly as i can to not wake anyone but when I look back up with said diary and pen Mont is staring at me clearly pissed, he motions for me to give him my diary. For a moment I’m terrified that he’ll take it but I don't see what choice I have, so I slowly hand both items to him, however instead of digging through them or throwing them out the window or anything else he begins to write inside of it. After a moment he hands both objects back, in large sloppy handwriting he wrote down, “By God am I glad that you're not gonna be my wife. But I’m up now, so write.” I flick my head back up to him but he’s looking out the window, looking annoyed yet passive. 

“Thank you,” I whisper before he waves his hand dismissively at me. 

I pour the whole day into the diary just before the sun breaks through the wood of the branches outside and once I’ve put my diary back into my bag and closed it over the hill I see a massive palace that reaches to nearly the heavens. I have to swallow my scream at just the sight of it. 

The slam of my carrier chest against the gravel of the drive breaks me of my trance, my Mama and Papa are beside me watching Mont try to pick the chest back up before forfeiting to its weight and dropping it again. He give me a look which i take as a pointed question, responding with: “I’m sorry, it’s mostly full of my books.” He gives me another look as if to say “what the fuck is wrong with you?” I responded with another apology. 

Many people are out and about on the drive, one coming to help Mont to pick up my luggage, several carrying other things into the palace (namely benches and decorations) but two are heading right toward my family and I, quickly. Two women by the looks of it, they didn’t have hair on their heads but their feathers were styled very nicely to swoop down and out every few inches making almost a wave effect, their necks were long and elegant holding up their heads and beaks. One of the women was walking straight to us while looking at us but the other was looking right at her, presumably someone of great importance by how she held herself and how she seemed to look down and altogether ignore everyone else, but me that it. 

They stopped right in front of us, presumably continuing a conversation we still couldn't hear no matter how close they got, the more regal one finally snapped her fingers and grabbed someone's attention before pointing down at us, the the man grabbed the arms of my parents, picked them up and started to walk away and before i had any say in the matter, the less regal women grabbed my arm and picked me up, showcasing me to the regal woman. 

The scream was pulled out of me but not of my parents, whom I heard grow more faint and distant as the woman surveyed me, lifting my chin, my arms and even poking my belly in one instance. Finally when she was done inspecting me, the woman holding me started to walk away at an alarming rate towards the palace, and in an instance we were inside. 

Her pace was faster than I could ever run yet she only seemed to be walking carrying me through the halls until finally we walked up to a false wall that opened up to a massive bathroom. She began to rip the dress off of me before dropping its remnants on the ground, leaving the places she pulled against me sore and surely to bruise later. While this happened several other women were preparing soapy water that when I was eventually dropped carelessly into i discovered how cold it was. Shivering to the bone, the women proceeded to dose me in soaps and roughly scrub them into my fur leaving me looking like a massive bubble. When done with the scrubbing the woman who brought me in put her hand on my back, I realized just how large these people were to me as her hand not only covered my entire back but her fingers wrapped around my waist like she was holding a broom handle. She swept my body under the water and no matter how I thrashed I couldn't get out of her grip. Soapy water filled my mouth and nose and lungs, the taste reminding me of the small years of my childhood. Finally, after almost a minute of being held under the water and shaking to remove the soap I was pulled out from the water completely and dropped back in only this time free of the hand. I gulped in the air before lunging for the side of the tub so I would not have to swim in its depths again. As I sat there for a moment one of the bath ladies sat there looking sad for me but only for a moment before she tenderly pulled me out of the freezing water and into the warmth of her towel. That was when I retched. 

It was only water as I hadn't eaten since the morning before but it clearly disturbed the main woman, she glowered at the girl who held me who then resumed the drying process, scrubbing me so hard and fast I likely shocked the next person I touched. 

When the girl released me of my towel drying the woman again dragged me to another room giving a quick moment of reprieve. There I had faint oils rubbed into my back, throat and face, burning my eyes again. They used the oils to try and shape my fur, pushing it downward. In the end when I was pushed in front of a mirror, seeing my naked body almost made me laugh. 

Not only was i still damp with oils, but the way they shaped my fur made me look like I had been doused in water, it also darkened my fur in a very unattractive way, thankfully however my fur has always been bad at keeping a styled shape, it curls at the ends no matter how it's shaped usually destroying the style, something i am now thankful for. Besides, when I’m alone later I can always give it a tussle so the proper shape comes back and I don't look so… Bad. I don’t know how they expect me to marry though. I still have so little air in me that I'll Likely pass out at the altar, my eyes are brilliant red from the soaps and fragrance oils, and they used so much of said oils i look like i haven’t bathed in weeks despite the fresh wash, not to mention how I am barely standing on my own at the moment. 

My break at the mirror is very brief it seems as quickly a new lady has taken to role of manhandling me, showing me in a first much too big bra, likely mistaking my chest fur for breasts, then a much too small bra that won't go over my head, and finally one that, while tight, is still wearable. She jots something down and passes it to me. 

It reads,“We’ll get you more clothes in a few weeks.”

I’m very glad to have brought my own. The sizing process repeats with a pair of underwear that has straps that go around the tops of my thighs. Oh. Oh no. This woman’s fitting me for lingerie, OH HELL NO. I begin to take the bra off but given how tight it is it’s difficult. She catches me and shoves it right back on before grabbing an under dress and throwing that over me and then quickly grabbing a corset. I fucking hate corsets. It was starting to become a trend back home to wear ones but not like this one. This one, in contrast to the ones at home, was full sized and would pull in my stomach and my chest. However this might be my save and grace!

My chest fur wont stay in the corset. The underdress is too low cut to hold it down so everytime she begins to tighten my fur rises. Over and over again. After the fourth time putting it back on I think she's gotten so tired of it she’ll quit. I am very wrong. She instead pushes my fur down, tightens the corset with practiced precision to an extremely tight fit, then shoves what leftover fur pops out when she removes her hand back into the corset. Some relief follows the removal of her hand but very little. I can barely breathe, even less so than before. 

She pays this no mind as she goes about picking a finally piece while I try to remove the corset myself or to at least loosen the damn thing but i can’t, and when she turns to watch as my hands finally fall, as i finally give in, i watch as she smiles at me in the mirror. 

While this corset woman is picking a dress the woman who nearly drowned me comes back in with a smile on her face before it falls when she looks at me. They begin to argue. (or at least it looks like it, this not hearing thing is getting on my last nerve today) Finally the conflict is resolved almost before it can begin when the Nearly-Drowned-Me-Lady (NDM lady until i learn her name) pecks the corset lady right between the eyes drawing blood that shines against her beak. She holds the wound in her hand, crying before nearly running away, back into the bathroom.

I look up at the remaining woman who’s grabbed a small (in her hands) dress and puts it on me. 

Looking at myself  is almost a sad event, oily fur, red eyes, frequent flinching when I breathe, and a dress that consumes me. However she seems quite pleased with her handy work. She points her clawed finger to me I guess to say don’t move a muscle before leaving again. 

I focus on learning to breathe in this thing, as I'll probably be in it for a while, but then I hear steps towards me coming from the bathroom. A woman pokes her head out of the door frame looking around. It takes me a moment to realize she's the woman who toweled me down. She's walking toward me with another towel, much smaller this time, and a small bowl of water. I don’t fight her when she lifts my head and gently pours water in my eyes, catching it with the towel. When she's done both eyes she towels my face down removing excuse oil titering and making soft crow sounds. When she’s done she shakes her head, sits at a nell and puts her hand out which i slowly shake. She sees me wince and looks confused for a moment before her  eyes widen and she unzips the back of my dress and losses the corset, giving me enough room to finally take a full breath. 

“Thank you,” I breathe, relieved to do so. She nods her head then snaps her neck to the door the previous woman left out of, gathering the bowl and towel, patting my head and walking back to the bathroom. 

After a heartbeat the NDM woman walks back into the room, grabbing my hand and dragging me to another event. 

I’d completely zoned out while she pretty much dragged me down the halls, she didn’t want to pick me up again but she didn’t want to stoop down so she could hold my hand, instead she was carrying me like a stuffed toy, my feet hitting the ground ever so often. 

Finally we came to a stop in the middle of a massive hallway with curtains blocking a doorway, after a beat we go inside of it were the first woman who inspected me sits lounging on a cushioned seat, very little has changed of her appearance, in fact only one thing has changed, she’s now wearing a crown. This woman is queen. Or was queen, as Lemal is already King. So either he is going to have two wives in a few hours or this is his mother. The mother angle seems more plausible as she, ever so often in her feathers hints of gray, no doubt dyed away to be forgotten about. 

The women are talking about me while I just stand there, focusing on the ground. Once more I have no way of knowing what they're saying and that fact alone makes me feel like digging a hole and collapsing the entrance while in it. 

I look up at the ex-queen (I think she is anyway, it’s a decent guess) trying to remember her name. I remember her husband’s, He was King Monal  the… either third or fourth, I still can't remember what her name was. Someone however took my mind off of that as she motioned backward to someone behind her, she turned all the way and started to show the person away, Even the NDM lady was stood up from her seat (i don’t know when she sat down, I guess I just didn’t notice) and began to sho the person away as well, they were behind the curtain but I’m fairly certain that it was a man behind it. He pecked in further and the ex-queen was smiling broadly as she put her hand on his chest pulling a smile out of him, looking at his chest it looked like he was laughing with them. (Maybe) Finally he gave a small wave (that might have been pointed at me) before leaving the room. The rest of the time i spent in there was a blur. 

After an hour spent in silence came the part of the day I was most dreading, looking through the windows I can see that the sun is going to set soon, maybe within the hour. 

There is so little sound, all that can be heard is the sound of people sitting, no chatter, nothing. Just me waiting until the doors opened. 

…

How will he kiss me.

It’s such a stupid question but one I have to ask. He has no mouth, only a beak. Hell, I don't even know what he looks like, I know what his species looks like but who knows if he knows what my species looks like, was he given a portrait? Even a description, i sure wasn’t so why should he be given one? Maybe they didn’t want him knowing what I looked like so if they killed me they could… That’s so stupid! This is stupid! 

The doors open, cutting my thoughts away and in perfect clarity the question of what he looks like is swept away.  

He’s tall, even for a predator he’s huge. He stands above the priest who’s standing on a slightly raised step, yet he’s taller than him. He’s also pristine, slicked back feathers, no style to them just straight down and sharp. His clawed and feathered feet hold up his form, dressed in a military uniform almost entirely free of decoration. His tail feathers nearly touch the floor, and he holds himself with pride when I first see him, but when he sees me his posture softens some, not much but some. 

I realize I’m just standing there staring and trying to take the first step forward, I feel stuck to the ground, weighed down in my too large and unflattering dress. But I do it. I take that step. I accept this shitty hand I’ve been dealt, so long as it means my family don’t have to take said hand. His hand.

I feel them all watching and I see my mother and father at the front bench watching my personal demise live, up close and personal. For a moment I regret being born. 

I’m shaking, visibly, but I don't care. I can’t even focus on that. 

He puts his hand out to me. I have to take it but I just stare at it for a moment. My future husband with his massive hand that could snap my neck with one motion, could wrap his hand around my body so tight my ribs break, the claws that, despite their dullness could slit through me like butter. And it would hurt too. And he’d have every legal right to do it. To rip me apart. To devore me like my aunt, like my sister's friend, like I’m his prey. 

…

I take his hand. I’ve stopped shaking too. 

The priest begins his speech

I only know this because I can ever so slightly hear it, it’s so low and quiet I feel like I'm hearing it from another room but I do, in fact, hear it. Mama and Papa probably can’t though. 

For several minutes he rambles about royal lineage which I ignore, but I can't help but listen when he brings my lineage up, the whole reason for this.

“-as this young princess, eldest of her kin joins us as many others like her have done before her, for the predators sacred right to feast, to indulge and laguash in a successful hunt. When this hunt finished many eons ago our people demanded a reward for a war well fought, and today ladies and gentleman, the payment to this king- this new age is paid in the blood and body of our newest queen!” 

I try to forget the blood and body parts as best I can. I can hear my mother weeping behind me. I zone out for a while longer before I hear him ask me “Do you take this man-?” I whisper an “I Do” before I try and stop myself. I hear him ask “Do you take this woman-?” and after a moment Lemal dips his head in a nod and turns to me before kneeling to- not my height, but as low as he can get, before pulling me close, rubbing the side of his beak against the side of my face. The priest then announced that it is done and we are now husband and wife. King and queen of the western predators. 

…

I feel like I'm going to throw up again. 

***

The rest of the night goes by with me either sitting in his lap, in his arms or on his shoulder, he’s laughing with his friends and family over the dinner table. I smell roasted meats fill the air and the mere thought of having to eat it with him fills me with terror. I've never eaten meat before and I do not intend to start now. I skipped that meal. Later courses came filled with large fruits as a type of desert and despite my hunger I eat as little as I’m able to- I don’t know why. I eat plenty of cake in the course afterwards but I don’t know why I don’t eat the fruit. Maybe its juice stains his hand too much like blood. Or maybe I’m just being extra cautious. 

At the end of the night my mother and father are escorted out and I jump out of King Lemals gentle grasp to catch up to them, I have to say goodbye at least, i have to. By the time I do so with King Lemal following at a leisurely pace while I run, I am sobbing, keeled over trying to catch my breath. 

In a moment I am up and jumping for my Papa one last time, to hug him just one last time. He catches me and we bury our faces into each other's necks, dampening them with tears. My mother jumps around both of us pulling her arms as far around the both of us as she can and crying into my scalp. 

After a long moment Papa pulls away but I try so hard to not let go but he’s stronger in his resistance. He puts his hand on the locket I've worn the whole day before kissing my forehead, my mother kissing my cheek and scalp and ear. Then Papa pulls back, bows and begins the walk back to the carriage they arrived with me in, leaving me behind. My mother lingers for longer, continuing to kiss and hug me, before whispering “Be so strong my love, I know you are.”  She has to be picked up but she still fights but not when she actually gets in the carriage itself. 

I sit in the grass and King Lemal and the guards that walked my family away all leave and for a moment I am alone. Completely and utterly. 

But only for a moment. 

Lemal returns. I hear him before I see him. He sits in the grass with me then slides and piece of cake in front of me. I reach for the dessert spoon and as soon as I have taken a bite he pulls my body to his. 

…

The rest of the night passes in a blur. When I start thinking again Lemal has me in his hands cradled to his chest. I start thinking again solely because I know where we’re going, to the bedroom, where he'll no doubt rip this dress off of me and delight in the lingerie they forced on me. I begin to wiggle in his grip, trying to get away but it feels like he just thinks i’m slipping because he holds me tighter when he reaches for the nob of the door, walks in, and shuts it behind him. 

I jump out of his hands and onto the bed like an idiot. He looks at me with an expression that reads excited are we  which I very much am not. I shake my head quickly and say “No! No, I really don’t want to, I-I- I don't even know you your highness!” He raises his hands to calm me, I think. He walks to the dresser, opens it and grabs clothes from it, then gestures to my chest of things, someone must have brought it here just after my arrival. He then walks away to, supposedly, the toilet room. 

As soon as the door closes I jump off of the much too high bed and quickly throw open the chest and grab my clothes before releasing something. I can't take off the corset, not by myself. Which means i cant put on the night dress, fuck. 

He walks out after a moment, in loose night pants and no shirt. It’s all just feather, feather, feather and more feather. Not to even mention his wings that arc up over his head. “No wonder the bed’s so big,” I whisper and I think this made him laugh. “

Hey… could I ask you to do something and you not act on what that action usually means?”  He didn't respond for several seconds until I turned and showed him the still very much tightened corset and still on dress. He raised his hands in protest but after he stopped I just replied with, “...Please?” He seemed to give in at that moment. Gesturing to the bed. 

It took some work, I had to completely flatten my feet to the ground, then bounce for a second to jump as high as the bed, however I was too close and smashed my face into the side of the mattress. I shook my head and turned back for him, looking for help but instead finding him trying so hard not to laugh at me he was holding his beak shut. After a moment passing he breathed clearly and stooped to help me but I was already trying again and I leapt between his arms when he reached me, glaring at him. 

He put his hand on his neck looking like he was about to apologize but I didn’t even want him to try. “Just help me, please.” After a moment, he sat on the bed and did just that, slowly pulling the dress off and undoing the corset until it was just string on the floor. I ripped it off and threw that away too. After jumping to the head of the bed on the opposite side. I slipped off the underdress while he averted his eyes then put on the night gown. And then… He laid down. Got under the blankets and laid down. So I did the same, and tried my absolute best to try and ignore the animal skins everywhere, the fact I was sleeping next to the king of the western predators, the fact that he is now my husband, and that we would do this every night. 

Lemal

“Okay so… what’s wrong with him?”

Father gave me a strange look, like I'm an idiot. “The problem is that your brother doesn't want to marry the prey girl!”

“Okay so why don’t you want the prey girl Cuss? And more importantly why does this affect me?” 

“Lemal! Isn't it obvious??” Father and I just stared at him for a moment waiting for him to say it. I already know, I’m just too tired at the moment. I went on a goose chase last night for barely anything to show for it other than heavy eyes and heavier limbs.

“I want to marry for love! And within my own species. And that just starts the list of why I don't wanna marry the prey girl! I’ve got many other reasons.” Father groaned and I just smiled at his answer.

“Always the helpless romantic brother.”

Balasey from her corner lounge chair piped in with, “He’s an idiot, like any girl could love you.”

“Thank you Balasey, always the optimist, love your input,” I muttered the last part so we could all pretend I didn't say it, of course she didn’t drop it.

“Excuse me you runt what did you say-”

“We haven’t the time for this- AND it's what Cusuma wants! Your little brother wants us to forget the topic at hand!” Father throws himself into his armchair in front of the window, it buckles under his weight and again makes that horrible sound. 

“When are you gonna fix that chair father- and anyways wouldn’t that make Cusuma King to marry that girl? That makes no sense, I am already king number one, number two why can’t I marry the girl, I have no qualms against it, marriage is marriage, you and mother worked out just fine. I mean there’s three of us, one more than needed  so that’s got to say something about how it worked out,” I take a sip of my drink, “so why not huh?”

“Well first,” Balasey chipped in, “they only had three because I’m the middle child and I’m a woman, the breeder is typically a man, so is the king, and then the girl is just an inconvenience.” 

“So you do want me to send you to the monastery?” Father added, Balasey sunk into her seat to avoid answering. “Thank you girl,” he took a sip of his drink. “And I want to teach him responsibility Lemal, the boy needs to learn. And if your sister is right about anything it’s that that boy will never marry, let alone have legitimate heirs on his own, so better to make him the object of the prey things attentions, beside if he really hates her he can kill her and just marry another! She’s dime a dozen, hell, she was born with three other females so we can get one for you too Lemal, if you really want. One wife for fun, one for breeding no problem.”

Balasey got up and left at that. 

“Or we can finally put your sister to work and get her married!!” We both looked at him then, “Oh! Come on boys, you know she needs to contribute to this family, she wasn’t born for no reason!”

Somewhere a door slams so loud I have no doubt that it’s been snapped in two. Father cuckles. 

“Father please don’t make me, I don't want a marriage to be stained with my supposed lover's blood!” 

“And anyway father,” I finally chim back in, “why make things complicated? You’re right, he needs to learn responsibility so why not send him to a soldiers camp, there are much simpler ways.” 

“I don’t wanna do that either!!” 

“OH pipe down you clown!” He swirled his drink thinking for a moment. 

“Besides,” they both looked at me Cuss in anger and father in curiosity, “I do find the things a decent amount attractive, I won’t waste her. Not like he will.” My idiot brother nods at this and father tits at his stupidity, I just laugh softly. 

After a moment of thought Father answers again, “Fine, you’re right Lemal why make this complicated, I can teach him in other ways.” 

“Perfect, solution found!”

Father got up from his chair, downing his drink, “By the way Lemal,” he began to walk out the door, “The wedding’s next week.”

“Sorry?” I stood up in astonishment, my brother whooping in victory in the corner.

***

I wish I didn't have to wake up, this was most days but especially today given I awoke to people running in and out of my room pulling things out here and there until it was almost completely empty. 

“What the hell are they doing? “  I say, groggy from another sleepless night.

“Moving your thing’s to the bridal sweet m’lord,” says my groomer, Ramey.

“Oh. Right, the marriage thing today,” I say, swishing his hand and comb away, he reaches for me again. “My feathers are fine, leave me alone Ram.”

“As you wish, should I get the ladies in the washroom to start your grooming or do you want to hunt first?”

“Hunt? Oh hell no, not today, besides I did enough of that last night. I made it to where only meats that I’ve hunted will be served tonight- of course at the expense of my me but who gives a shit about that?” Ramey is about to say something but I cut him off before he can show any concern, “Yes, please call the ladies to wash me off, also tell them about the new oils you bought. I don't think they know about that yet.”

“Of course,” I walk out of the room and he follows me, “I also bought some oils and soaps for your bride, do you want them to use them today or tonight or?” 

I stop to think about it. “Um, use the same oils on her as you do me so that she already smells like me, the fuckers in the palace get way too handsy. Unless she smells like me they’ll think they can make an early claim to her and I don’t want that. I’d like to keep her flower intact until I can get to her thank you.”  I stop in the main dining room, stretching in front of the window looking out it. Ramey looks with me. Then at me.

“You really should spend the whole night with her, she’ll be scared being in such a new and dangerous place on her own, she should at least have her husband share a bed with her on her first night here. I know how scary the adjustment is.”

I don’t look at him still, thinking for a moment. “Hey Ram,” I put my hands in my pockets, finally looking at him, “completely dose her in the oils I use today.”

After breakfast comes a well needed wash, I lavish in its coldness while the ladies wash out the bad oils and put in the good. 

I wonder what she looks like? She’ll be small, I know that but how small? Like… waste height or smaller?  Ya know, thinking about it i haven’t even seen too much of her species, then again she probably hasn’t seen too much of my own so at least we have that much in common. Heh, maybe we can use that to ‘get to know each other.’  

Right now, snapping out of my trance, I hear my mother titering in the other room, likely waiting for me to get the hell out of the bath. Looking around I realize that the ladies are more or less finished and now are cleaning around me so as to not be an idol. I stand, pulling half the tubs water out with me, and they soon begin drying me. 

“Are you ever going to be finished in there, you girl?” 

“Good morning mother, you can come in, you know.” One of the Ladies passes me my wax and I generously applied it to my beak. “Also you want me to look good on my wedding day don't you?” I say this with a smile getting a small dollop of wax in my mouth that I become preoccupied with getting out of my mouth. Moving to the mirror my mother walks in. 

“Oh cover yourself, you know you have more than one and I don’t wanna see that!” 

“Didn’t you birth me?”

“Yes but that was a long time ago and I didn’t even feed you so stop mocking me already, you'll make your poor mother even more gray!” I wrap a towel around my waste. 

“Oh you are too lovely, gray or not.” She replies with a simple “mh” before moving to the mirror, examining herself. 

“They're late, you know.”

“I don’t really care,” I start.

“Well I do, and it’s because of the boy, the one you’re friends with, the bastard boy. Who knows what he did,” she turns to me, “You don’t think he’s letting her say goodbye to all of those family members do you?”

“Why would that be a problem?” 

“You know why!!” I give her a look of confusion. “UHH! Those things breed like, like, like themselves! They have troves of themselves everywhere!”

“Not here.”

“Only because they are just smart enough to stay away for their own little lives sakes. The poor things. That prey girl thing will be such a pain. Your uncle has one and I don’t know how he does it, every generation, every king. It’s bogus.” 

One of the Ladys comes with my uniform for today and I stand ready for her to put it on me. “Don’t say that Mother,” I pause, “You know Ramey says that I should be nice to the girl, don’t you like him?” 

“I like that he knows how to make this old bag of bones and dust look like a brand new bag, yes! But I don't really value his opinion that much, sorry.”

“Well i think you ought to be nice to her, in fact, can you see to it that she’s treated gently. I want a pampered little pet, no stress or reason to worry at all. How’s that mummy, just like your wedding.”

“Ha! You’re the stupidest one of my children if you really think that my wedding was a happy one, oh I hate your father, he’s so annoying. He’s always been like your brother, it’s why he hates him.”

“Don’t say that mother!”

“It’s true!”

I’m about to say something more but then we hear a carriage pull into the drive. 

“OH, yes, finally!! I can get a look at the thing! Oh- come here, there’s three, come see, come see!!” She’s jumping in excitement looking down and out of the window. I come to join her just in time for the things to climb out. Also just in time to watch Mont fail at picking up a chest for a creature whose things could barely weigh a pound. 

“See?” She says mocking Mont, “Bastard children are runts what do I tell you!” 

“Next you’ll say Cuss is a bastard,” She puts her finger to the tip of her beak and I laugh. 

“I’m going down to see,” she says excitedly, I quickly follow now fully dressed to not only get a look but to help Mont. 

We arrive quick enough, mother and my bride's new lady in waiting head right over to them, I head over to help Mont and ask about my bride. 

Together we pick up the chest and lo and behold it’s one of the heavier chests that I’ve picked up in a while. 

“Shit what’s in this thing??” I Grunt out while we move it to a cart.

“The Girl says ‘mostly books’ as well as ‘sorry.’” Mont says, mocking her.

“Well those are two very important pieces of information, she can read, and well it seems, and she’s got humility.”  Mont laughs and we turn to watch the lady in waiting and my mother get over the family of prey. Two are picked up and likely taken to the altar to be given contractual jobs but one is left behind, she’s picked up and my mother exploded in laughter calling her simple and dainty, Mont and I just laugh at the image of the girl picked up as a pet. 

“Okay well I’ll tell you one thing Lemal.”

“And what is that?”

“I don’t envy you.”

“Neither does my mother, she dreads the very idea of her even being in the palace.”

“Oh i don’t even mean that, the thing writes all hours of the night when she’s stressed”

“Oh, well that makes two non-sleepers,” I begin to walk back into the palace. “Besides, if all goes well she won’t be stressed at all, just like a very spoiled pet, if anything.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? Every one of those wife, pet things that I’ve ever met , and I’ve met the only two still alive, both were stressed all the fucking time, don’t kid yourself if you think she won’t die of it if not by one of us first.”

“Neither of those is happening. I’ll tell you why if you ask.” “...Okay, I’ll bite. Why?”

“I have a plan.”

“Oh do you?”

“Yes, now shut up. I’m gonna find every interest that she could ever be interested in and I’ll do everything that she wants. She wants cake, she’s got it, she wants books, she’s got it, she wants sex, well she’s more than got that.” 

Mont snickers, “your kidding yourself even more if you think that’s all women like-”

“I know that dumbass, but still. Whatever she wants is hers. I just want to say I tamed one of those prey critters and that will bring me fame and acolytes!” 

“More than being king?”

“Oh shut up. I’ve got a fitting to get to so why don’t you do some wine tasting for the both of us huh?”

“You don’t have to tell me twice, but that cake part of the plan’s gonna backfire.” 

“Oh please,” I said walking away, “who doesn't like a fat pet?!” 

Walking into the fitting room everyone begins to fuss at me again and I spend the next hour standing doing nothing so the seam cleaners can also do nothing because they did such a great job last time, all that’s left for me to do is to think really.

I couldn't get a good look at her before but her body was much smaller than I thought it would be. I could fit her in my hands with ease, probably balance her in just one hand. I’ll have to try later. She’s so small just a squeeze would pop her, speaking of that I turn a lot in my sleep, I’ll have to watch myself to make sure I don’t crush her. Maybe a wall of pillows? But I want her to be able to get to me. Don’t want to discourage any fun. How would that even work with her? Would they.. Fit? That’s a dirty thought. Thinking of other things, the kiss is going to be awkward at the actual ceremony, given her lack of a beak. How do prey kiss? Wait no, not prey, southern prey creatures, the… Pami! They have beaks… Small beaks but beaks. So… Compatu. Compatu Prey, how do they kiss? Guess I’ll have to ask her, but she might not know, if everything has gone well with her then she’ll never have done so before but here’s to hoping. I wonder- My father walks in, fumming.

“What’s wrong?” 

“You’re brother, he’s being an idiot again. He got you into this and now wants to pull you out of this because he feels bad, can’t he grow a fucking wing bone already!?”

“Wait, he wants to marry her? Hell no, not now. Why even?”

“Can’t you hear, he ‘feels bad,’  pathetic.”

“Oh please just tell him I’m fine and he’ll get over it.”

“Well I-”

“I don’t even wanna hear this father, just tell him to shut his beak before he tries to pull a stunt like speaking out at the wedding itself and everything will be fine.” I begin to walk away.

“Oh if your brother so much as thinks of doing that!” He begins to scream down the hall that he entered through, “I’ll have his damn pelt lining my coat!!” 

Walking down the halls I hear a familiar voice going on and on about how “This pet creature is just not as much of a beauty as she would have hoped but she’ll have to do!”  So following mothers voice i find her titering on and on with my fiance's new Lady in waiting once again. Mother spots me through the curtains and begins to greet me before changing her mind. 

“Oh my- What are you doing here, you need to finish your fitting, hell i can still see a pin in your shoulder!”

“Oh that’s nothing mother i promise, oh- is that her?”

“Oh your majesty please, leave before your surprise is spoiled!”  The Lady goes on about surprises for a while.

“You act like I don't know I’m getting married my lady but it’s quite the contrary, I promise.”

“Oh, you boy, get out!” Mother puts her hand on my chest, lightly pushing me out of her little “conference room,” I chuckle at her efforts. Before lightly waving to my little bride with a now much clearer look at her. Light brown fur all over her face with white rings around her eyes, nose and mouth, and a small pink nose in the center. But best of all are those eyes, dazzling green eyes that spark her face to life but bring an awfully shy look to her face. So in summary, she’s the most damn adorable thing I’ve ever seen. 

I’m finally pushed out of my mothers room and for a moment I just stumble backwards, she’s just a delight to look at yet still I didn't see her in nearly the right conditions. I'll tell you what she looks like though, she looks right out of a painting. 

Yes, a painting of her surrounded by lovely flowers and berries and fruits, all of the greens of the stems and leaves bringing her eyes to the focal point, captivating and entrancing… I can’t wait to see her down that aisle, the light focused just on her, and she’ll be all for me. Fuck i can’t even handle the thought of that. What am I gonna do when I actually see it happen?

I bump into my brother. I hadn’t even realized I had been walking.

“Oh Lemal I am so sorry! Father won't let me undo my mistake and I really don’t want you to pay for my burden! Honest.”

“What? What burden?”

“Marrying that little thing, I'll tell you what I'll do, we switch places and I just kill it afterwards, and we forget the whole thing, it’ll be like nothing happened!”

I slam him against the wall, growling in his face, “If you even think of hurting her i’ll fucking dimeber you and you know that’s a promise.”  He shudders under my hands, “Understand?”

“Yes brother, I understand!”  His head nodds like his neck is broken and it will be if he doesnt stop being ridiculous. I let go of him.

He reaches for his neck, rubbing it, then his shoulder.

Together we walk into the chapel and we both take our places. He grabs my shoulder and turns me around to face him. “What do you-” He pulls the pins out of my suit, one on my shoulder, the second on my collar, the third somewhere on my chest, he puts each point end up into his pocket, practically doming himself to poke his fingers with the ends at least once when he goes to remove them. 

“Thank you.”

After a moment of thought he looks up at me, for the first time in a while I see him for what he is, a small teenager who has no clue what he’s to do with himself. A no one prince who’s trying his damndest for himself and his brother. I feel the impact of earlier finally reaching my hands and realizing how close I was to actually hurting him. “Are you sure about this? I’ll take her if you really want, not harming her at all, whatever you want, Lemal.”

“Don’t worry,” I pull his head into my chest, “I am… More than fine with this brother.” I want to add a thank you to the end of that but I can't for some reason. 

He breathes into me, “Good because if I do anything Father will actually kill me.”

We both chuckle at that. 

What the hell is taking so long?  It’s all I can think about, why is this taking so damn long. I can feel my tail feathers bouncing in anticipation, Cuss’s nervous energy has finally infected me, as I watch him over and over again click his thumb to his forefinger rapidly, actually no, not rapidly, only every second. So I quite literally have been counting the seconds that have passed that the wedding is supposed to have started by now. But people are still finding their seats, something that kills me. Just sit your asses down, it all you people ever do anyways, all hungry with only one chief in the kitchen i.e. ME.  I’ll strangle the person who sits in their seat last.

With that thought over, quite conveniently, the doors open, slowly but surely she’s revealed. 

Her image at first is comical, a wedding dress with huge shoulder puffs and white fabric covering her arms, the body of the dress being too long for her, she’ll appreciate some nice dresses later, I think. Her actual face and body though…On her little head two round and tiny ears poke through her hair, soft and lightly curled fizzing in just the most adorable way. Her little whiskers, which I couldn’t see in the dark of the last room, stand on end, the end of each being black. And finally those eyes again. For a moment I lose my posture and lose myself, she’s looking entirely at me, not just perceiving me, but staring at me, taking me all in. All her attention right where it belongs. I silently thank my brother for being the idiot he is. A fortune for a loss I suppose.

 She slowly climbs her way to the end of the aisle and as she gets closer the clearer I can hear her heartbeat but it kills me knowing how others can hear it too. She’s right in front of me when I decide to bend down and offer my hand to her. She takes a moment, breathing shallowly, looking at my hand and then right at me. Her eyes pierce me and for a moment I just wanna grab her, Just make others stop looking at her. And then she finally takes my hand. Despite what I would have guessed, the pads to her hands were rough, deeply callused and slightly scared from who knows what. But her fur itself is so soft, and funnily enough just a little bit damp still. 

The priest begins his little sermon but I can't be made to listen despite the absurdly loud volume of his voice. One point does get through to me. “This new age is paid in the blood and body of our newest queen!” I couldn’t have put that part better, it sounds so damn romantic, carnal. After all, every new age is paid for in the blood and bodies of those who bring it about. Then i realize something.  I didn’t even think to ask her fucking name, dumbass, dumbass, dumbass!! How many times were you around people who knew her name? Mont! Her Parents! Father! My Brother for fucks sake!  And then he says it. 

“Celica, do you take this man-” 

My breath hitches in my throat when he barely has finished the sentence and she shouts “YES!” Her voice is like honey.

Moments later I’m asked the same question and I answer with as romantic a voice I can muster and a deep nod. I stop listening again, stoop down to as low as I can get and rub my beak against her cheek, and when my beak is just past her hair I take a deep breath in to smell her, just as I wanted she was totally dosed in the same oils as me, so she smells woody with some mint, but what I wasn’t expecting was a hint of something other, her own smell. She smelled like berries and fresh earth, like morning dew. That moment alone convinced me to stop trying to make her smell like me and instead make myself smell like her. 

I spend the rest of the night promising to hold onto her, both so that i can get the delicious smell on me and also so i dont lose her or worse step on her hehe~ We skip out on the festivities, at first I try to ask her questions but she rarely seems to hear them which, given the sound of the music I couldn’t blame her for, so I am content with just her touch for now. 

When food started to come out, just as I had wanted, only the meats that I had hunted were served as roasts, pies, stews and soups and in almost every piece of food.

“Here my wife, eat.”  I push a bowl of some roast into her hands which she quickly tries to put down to my distress. 

“Please, I can’t.” She says very quickly.

I try again to get her to eat, “No i insist me dear-”

“Please don’t make me. I can’t.”

I finally let her put the bowl down with a quiet, “alright dear.” Though she did eat. A few courses later she began to eat small pieces of fruit, my favorite type as well. Rosen Berries, big meaty berries that fit snugly in my own hand, so I quickly cut some up for her while she sat in my lap and offered her the small pieces while I tore into the rest. In one instance I saw her just watching me eat, her eyes wide with wonder, likely at how I ate it.

Finally when the cake came around she ate a full slice, more than enough for her little body. But from the doorway came a loud pair of yelps, presumably from her parents as they were ordered to leave. I tried to tell the guards that they caused no harm being there but they only confirmed what I likely already knew, mother had ordered them out. They are terribly loud so I can’t blame her too much, but to just try and sweep them away, it made them look terribly rude, but even worse is that it caused my wife Celica to lounge out of my lap and onto the floor where she began to run on all fours. Incredibly unsightly but I can more than excuse it given this will likely be the last time she sees them. The guards tried to pull her off of them for a moment but I ordered them back so they could at least get in a half proper goodbye in. 

She jumps on her father and her mother jumps on them both in an embrace filled with more love than I could probably ever muster up. That’s something i'll need to work on for her. 

Her mother says something strange to her though, “Be so strong my love, I know you are.”  she holds onto her until I finally let the guards pick her up, to take her away to the carriage, where her husband went several minutes before her, where she also stops resisting and begins to cry. I feel terrible for Celica. 

I look down and see her sitting in the grass. I leave her there for a moment thinking for anything that might soothe her. And then an Idea strikes me. 

When I return I bare my offering of cake. Just after sitting, I picked out the most lovely piece left. 

“I brought you something my wife,”  she stares at it for a moment. “I know it’s hard, but it will get better, I promise.”

Finally she reaches for the plate, pulls it close to her and puts the bite into her beautiful mouth. I pull her close to me.

“Good girl Celica. There is hope yet, you need only look for it my darling.”

We sit there for a moment longer. Her head nuzzles into my side. 

“I promise to take care of you,” I whisper, “no harm, physical, mental or emotional shall befall you if I can do something about it. I promise.”

We spend the rest of the reception sitting on the grass watching the stars. 

We retire to our room late into the night, I hold her swaddled to my chest, and I realize I'm so tired I'll soon drop her if I don't focus enough. We enter our room and as soon as the door closes she leaps out of my arms face first into the bed, bum in the air. This greatly catches me off guard.

“Oh! Well someones eager! I can indulge-”

“No! No, I really don’t want to, I-I- I don't even know you, your highness!” 

“Oh, my mistake my dear,” I raise my hands to show I won't reach for her, “we move at your pace I promise.” 

I walk over to the cabinet to fetch some of my sleeping clothes, “Looks like when they moved my things they just moved the whole cabinet, very convenient. Speaking of convenience,” I walk over to her chest of things, “I had this moved here so you actually have something to wear my love, nothing to worry about. I’m going to change, if you don’t mind.” I swiftly head to the toilet room where when I close the door I hear her immediately jump from the bed, walk across the floor and open her chest and swiftly close it again. 

It doesn't take me long to get out of my clothes and into my night pants, and given the warm night and the possibility for great heat I skip out on the night shirt. When I walk out she just looks at me, “Like what you see darling?”  

She doesn't respond, instead saying, “No wonder the bed’s so big.” 

“Hmm, oh the wings! I’m glad you like them.”

“Hey… could I ask you to do something and you not act on what that action usually means?” 

“What do you mean Celica?”

She turned to show me her back. 

“Oh dear no, that’s what your lady in waiting is for, not if we're not going to have- You know, not consummate-”

She just stared for a moment before saying, “...Please?” 

“Uu- Well I-... Alright fine,” I gesture to the bed, “Hop on up Celica.” 

And she does just that, almost. Instead she smashes her face against the mattress side of the bed and no matter how hard I wish to stop myself I let out a loud crowing laugh that’s only muffled by slamming my beak shut, something that is only manually done. She glowers at me but I can’t stop myself. Before I’m done with my fit she gets a determined look on her face and she steps backward to attempt the same. I try to stop her as she’s clearly not a very good shot but when I nearly reach her she’s in the air between my arms and beak. 

She then looked back at me, back to me and said, “Just help me, please.”  and when I was done being impressed i did just that, pulling at the soft fabric of her dress until it was a mop on the floor. 

“Good riddance if you ask me.” 

I then started on pulling the corset laces free, inch by inch she breathed in more deeply, becoming just a little more accessible. Finally, I had her completely free of all string and she quickly took it upon herself to free herself of that corset all together, she then jumped to the other end of the bed, claiming it, before pulling off her underdress. I quickly averted my eyes but it wouldn’t have made a difference, she just as quickly pulled her night gown back on, but to be honest I couldn't help just admire her body for a moment longer. The dress was more like a shirt on her, leaving her legs almost completely bare, save for a strap of white lingerie that attached to her underwear, a nice treat any other time but right now only serving to tease. Her legs themselves were strong though, like she's been running since she was a babe which might very well be true. Her arms are much the same only now revealing small scares up and down each arm. But her coloring was the most interesting to me, a golden brown on the outer sides of her legs and arm but pure white on the insides of her thighs and presumably her belly and chest. 

And with that it was time to go to bed. 

“If we're not going to consummate tonight… I’m going to go to sleep. This’ll be probably the only night that I'll be able to go to bed, I’m not the best sleeper to be honest.” With that I pull down the main blanket and the hides and slip inside myself. Celica quickly follows suit. 

After a moment of her staring at me she turns to her other side and begins to fall asleep. It’s not long before sleep sweeps over me as well. 

I wake up in the very early hours of the morning, the birds are awake but the sun has yet to show itself. I look down and there is Celica, curled up in a ball right beside me. I look around for a moment and find a hide and slip it over her sleeping body and she untenses just a bit. For once it takes me no time at all to fall back to sleep with her wrapped in my arms.   

[ellowynthenotking]

Apr 2

Dear Dad,

We can see the city from here, from wherever we are. It’s so far away but bigger than life. It’s massive and bright and shiny even now. There are lots of lights, enough to make it shine in the darkness, like a real city back home. I wonder how old it is and how long it’s been building on top of itself.

We’re also far from the only people heading that way. With all the other carts and people I’ve been seeing, there must be hundreds. I think we’ve just been off the main trail. If there is one, it’s heading to this place.

But it’s massive, like, bigger than life massive. I mean, It’s so big it’s taking up the entire mountain, it is a whole mountain. There’s a mountain range around it, but this place is one of the mountains. It’s taking up all of it. One entire city that’s turned a mountain into a glimmering beacon, visible from every direction. I mean, I don’t actually know about the other directions, but I have to assume because it’s the middle of the night, and I can see it clearly. In the light, there are about a billion flags or something like them flicking in the light, drawing you in, but in the dark, it’s something completely different. It feels like it’ll be safe. It’ll be a safe place for us to stop, to rest, to be able to actually figure out our next steps even if we don’t find our way home.

We’re still a ways away, but we’re at least going in the right direction. It’s kinda hard to miss a mountainous city.

We’ve stopped for the night to rest in a real bed, or at least on the floor of something that isn’t moving. The cart isn’t great, but it doesn’t come anywhere close to being in a real bed.

Especially cause a real bed doesn’t move.

The temple we’re in is spacious, and there are plenty of beds, so no one has to share beds, and even better, no one has to share rooms! There are so many beds and rooms, and it’s all open, and we don’t have to share!

Another wonderful, beautiful, fantastic thing is the baths. I really missed the giant baths. They’re huge, warm, and smell good, and they make it so my friends and I don’t smell so overpoweringly of BO, horse, and dirt. We are all so clean that we squeak. And that’s only a light exaggeration.

But the baths are fantastic, and I just want you to know that while I might be getting a little too comfortable with not bathing for a while at a time, I will, in fact, have a great appreciation for baths and how wonderful they are.

They’re so great. I might get back in tonight.

No one’s paying to heat it or anything, so it wouldn’t be an imposition, I don’t think. And then I could float around without the others looking in and wondering what I was doing.

I’m enjoying the water, weightless, and don’t have aches from being knocked around the cart for a few minutes!

When you don’t have anything, it really is the little things.

Also, I don’t know when we’ll get a chance to bathe again. It could be a while.

We’re going to keep pushing on tomorrow. That shouldn’t come as a surprise to you. It wouldn’t be. It’s really all we’ve been doing: pushing forward and forward, all the while looking over our shoulders.

There’s still the unease of being followed. I know we’re all feeling it, even if no one’s talking about it. We’ve been doing shifts at night, even if we’re in a town or somewhere that’s supposed to be safe. I don’t think any of us are feeling very safe at all. I mean, I’ve never felt very safe here, but really, it’s the feeling behind it.

Before, it was because of the wild animals and crazy people.

Now it’s just the crazy people.

We haven’t seen any of the people in a while. There are no signs of the donkey cult, no weird art, nothing. As far as I can tell, it’s been crazy radio silent.

Hopefully, we’ve just been out-pacing them. Or they’ve lost interest.

Or some other totally means they’re not following our reason. I would be really happy if they just stopped following us. I don’t know if they have, but I would really prefer if they got lost. Literally.

I’m sure the others would agree with me. It would be very, very, very nice if we didn’t have to worry about any of them anymore.

But I’m probably hoping too high about a lot of things. It’s almost certainly going to come back and bite me because I’m not scared enough. But I’m hopeful that if we keep moving, it’ll be fine.

I’d prefer if the moving was a little slower or with a few more pauses for stretching and/or dinner.

The horses are also starting to look more haggard. I know the pace is punishing, and they don’t even understand why.

Grace has been loving on them a lot, too. Which I think they like, I mean, she’s really nice to them, and it’s really sweet to watch. I don’t think I’ve met anyone who likes animals as much as she does.

But the others are still talking about selling or trading them. We really need to give them a break, and we really need to give us a break.

I think I am going to take that bath again and then sleep for as long as I can until Riley wakes us up again.

Love, Jack

[miracleweaponhunt]

Miracle Weapon Hunt Chapter 23: The Misadventures of the Very Real Bob Dobalina

Xander, Tsuki and Priyanka stood in the coffee shop in Sangaria they were told to go to. Simple looking place, newly constructed. A couple nice looking stools alongside some wooden tables for people to discuss things at. And behind the counter was a slightly intimidating girl with green hair and lip piercings.

“You’re the three, right?” She asked.

“Correct.” Priyanka replied.

“But…the three, right? You gotta say something.”

“Oh, right.” Priyanka nodded slowly to herself. “The sock, the alec, and the yank. That good?”

“Sure is.” The girl responded with a finger snap. “What you want is in the back.”

The girl let them hop over the bar into a room in the back. Unpainted walls that could barely be seen thanks to the massive amounts of smoke.

“You the legion guys?” A man’s voice came out when the door was opened. Priyanka barely saw the outline of a man in the middle of the room. Tsuki put her silkworms in her hat and left it outside the room.

“The fan, dude!” The girl shouted from outside.

The man turned on the fan in the back of the room and blew all the smoke into the main room, revealing the slightly muscular man covered in tattoos casually sitting behind it.

“So, you three are the legion guys?” He asked, looking them up and down. “You look weaker than I thought.”

“Well, we’re really not meant to-“ Xander started before Priyanka shut his mouth.

“Look too intimidating. Draws attention to us.”

“Ah, got it.” The man nodded. “Well, name’s Trent, and I’ve been told you need these bad boys.”

Trent revealed three fake ID’s from his pocket.

“If anyone asks, you three are small time college students from Ropear doing some traveling during the warmer months. I put skyships that match your physical appearances, so the guy is from Ropear, plain girl is from Gurut, and the flashy girl is from ShiShi. Got all that? New names on the cards too, so make sure to memorize them.”

The three looked at their cards. Xander was Bob Dobalina, Tsuki was Ina Lu, and Priyanka was Riya Rau.

“Is that all we need?” Priyanka asked. “No family history or specific housing ships we belong to? Nothing like that?”

“More things added means more potential holes in the story. Just think up a quick story and think of it. Nobody thinks of Ropear around here, just say something mildly believable.”

“Understood.” Priyanka nodded as she tucked the ID into her back pocket. The man then produced a pure white plastic card.

“And here’s a credit card. Bank took the fake Luxa without an issue, so we’ll hopefully be good. I think you got the basics down, anyway.” Trent asked. “Any questions?”

“Just one, not really related to this.” Xander asked. “What’s in it for you?”

“Whatcha mean?”

“Well, you aren’t with the New Legion. So why are you so happy to help us?”

“It’s all about the new society.” He responded calmly, snapping his fingers into the sky. “This whole skyspace and the Lux? Gotta be hiding something. Also, try not to mention it in front of Gwen in the front, but the Zeus followers here have a lot of power over certain areas and surrounding ships. It can get pretty messed up and the rulers haven’t done anything to help.”

“Weird cult?” Xander whispered. Trent gave a silent nod. Xander nodded back, but he just thought about how she was basically just trading one weird cult for another one.

“So, our mission is to get the shield.” Tsuki said. “Any ideas on how to do that?”

“Well, thanks to Gwen’s…connections, we were able to get this empty place turned into a coffee shop. It’s pretty near the medical academy Luminita goes to, and starting a new place with cheap coffee means she’s guaranteed to show up. Grand opening is tomorrow, so feel free to go find something to do.”

Tsuki checked her hat, and the silkworms were still alive if slightly distressed, so she let them rest on her fingers as she stroked them. When she thought they calmed down, she put them back in her hat.

The three of them stepped out into the evening air, and Xander finally got his full look at Sangaria. It seemed like a relaxed enough place, especially in the grand. Humble little streets with a couple small stores, with a few small neighbourhoods peeking out beyond them. Behind them was the pristine white walls that guarded the castle. It was a large circular keep being kept behind the wall, with a smaller tower attached on either side. All the same white as the walls, with the occasional red covering the perimeters of the windows, the same red used to colour the roof. The whole place made Xander feel nostalgic for a place he’s never been to.

“There’s an inn over there if you want to rest.” Priyanka said calmly.

“Nah, I wanna see what this place is about first.” Xander replied.

“Yeah, I heard the styles here are pretty neat.” Tsuki added.

“I’ll go see if they have any spare rooms at the inn.” Priyanka said. “I’ll see you later.”

And with Priyanka gone, Xander and Tsuki were left to wander around the town, with the people not paying much attention to them. Just two people in a crowd of hundreds. It felt nice.

“You see any clothes shops yet?” Tsuki asked.

“Not yet.” Xander whispered back.

As the two passed one narrow street to another, they began to notice a small crowd building up. Tsuki glanced around and saw multiple stores with different types of clothes in the window. Xander watched her face light up in the same way when he saw the clothes. It never got any less adorable. Tsuki looked at the clothes in the window, a white jacket with puffy shoulders and bits of torn fabric on the sleeves. It all came together so well.

“Xander, I need it!” She yelled, fogging up the window with her excited breath.

“Sounds good. I’m just gonna see what’s up with the crowd over there.”

Xander walked over to the commotion across the street. From the outset, it seemed to be lively town shenanigans. But as he got closer, the crowd wasn’t excited or happy.

They seemed to be mad.

As Xander pushed through the crowd, a group of men in blue suits were standing outside of what seemed to be a very big and very new store. The small looking man looked incredibly distressed at what was happening in front of him. As opposed to the wild fashion and pictures of models lining the wall, he was dressed in a relatively simple leather jacket with his simple black hair neatly brushed to the left side. In a very simple way.

“Now, mister Jian Tang.” The one at the front started in a calm voice. “It has come to our attention that you want to open up a new boutique here in the middle of the town.”

“Um…yes. It’s all been cleared with the Sangaria building people if that’s what concerns you.”

“That’s not the issue.” The man continued. “We’re concerned you might take business from the smaller stores around here.”

“Don’t worry there! This store is mostly dedicated to ShiShi inspired fashion, and anything taken from Sangaria will be treated with the utmost respect!”

“Well, that’s only one issue.” The man said as he glanced back to the crowd. Xander finally got a good look at him. Blonde and pale with shifty grey eyes.

“There’s also the content of the things you’re selling. Take that, for instance.” He pointed towards one of the mannequins in the window, sporting what looked to be a flannel bikini top.

“Slightly perverse for this ship, don’t you think?”

“Well, it’s very simple! We’re nearing the warmer months, so in ShiShi it’s very common to wear less clothing during those times. There’s nothing perverse about it.”

“I see. Well, modesty is important to us here, so I’d recommend not overstepping while you’re here. After all, I’m more than willing to make your visit here as short as possible.”

“Okay, I think you’re going a little too far.”

The mans neck snapped back to see who was opposing him, a look of contempt thrown onto his face. This man in a hoodie and a tie simultaneously was about to lecture him?

“And who would you be?” He asked.

“Name’s Mr Dobalina.” Xander lied. “And are you seriously threatening a guy who wants to sell some clothes?”

“I’m sorry, you’re not from around here, are you?” The man asked, slowly approaching Xander. He had to look up to him due to being cursed with average height.

“Nope, I’m from Ropear.”

“Well then, young man. I’m from the Zeus organization around here, and we’re somewhat important. It would do you well not to get in our way.”

The man turned to the terrified store owner, and calmly tucked his hands in his pockets.

“Well, I feel our point has been made. I’ll be seeing you. Hopefully not soon.”

The man and his two associates walked out of the crowd which quickly followed, only leaving Xander in front of the store.

“Pricks.” He mumbled under his breath. Definitely the cult that made the girl at the coffee shop want to join the Legion.

“What was that about?” Tsuki whispered next to Xander, before ger gaze shifted over to the man in front of the store.

“Jian Tang?” She yelled out.

“Yes.” He said, trying to adjust a stray hair.

“Oh my god, I’m like your biggest fan ever!” Tsuki had the sparkles in her eyes. Xander knew she was about to go into what he dubbed ‘fashion frenzy’ mode.

“So, what are you doing here? Are you doing a new line here? World tour, maybe?”

“I…I just want to make a new line here. Not a lot of competition here yet, so I wanted to see what the world of fashion in Sangaria was like. Respectfully of course.”

“Oh, obviously. But like, can I see what you’re working on next?”

“Well, the grand opening is tomorrow. If you’re still here I’d be glad to have you.”

Tsuki stopped in place for a second, before letting out the most euphoric scream Xander heard anyone make.

“Yeah, we’ll probably be able to make it.” He said calmly.

“Good. I think you could do with it.” Jian said with a nod. “We open at midday.”

He quietly retreated into the store, and Tsuki was left stunned.

“Wait, did he say tomorrow?” Tsuki asked.