#in white dun maybe .. mm

[piosplayhouse]

HAPPY FIRST DAY OF PRIDE I BACKORDERED ZOOBIE!!! SWEET GIRL WILL BE MINE BY LATE JUNE!!!!!!!!!!

[mldrgrl]

Wise Up

by: mldrgrl Rating: PG Summary: Scully needs someone to take her home after dental surgery.  Pre-Millennium.

He came back from getting coffee to find her mid-conversation with her mother.  She gave him a glance over her shoulder when he put the to-go cup quietly on her table and then lowered her chin so that her hair obscured her face.  She switched her cell phone from one hand to the other and he shuffled to his own desk pretending to give her privacy.

“It’s fine, Mom,” she said.  “I promise.  I’ll just try to get it rescheduled until after the new year.  No, I...no, I don’t need...Mom, it’s fine.”

He sipped his coffee and opened a file, but kept his gaze higher than necessary to keep her in his periphery.  She pinched the bridge of her nose in silence for the next ten seconds and then she finally lifted her head.

“Mom,” she stated.  “I have to go, I need to finish a report.  I’ll reschedule for January.  As for Thursday, don’t worry about it, you just feel better.  I know.  I know.  I love you too.  Bye.”

Scully disconnected her call with a deep sigh that Mulder pretended not to notice.  He was burning with curiosity, however, and it was only a matter of time before he would ask.  He just had to wait for the right opportunity.

“I’ll be right back,” she said.

He nodded as she stood and rubbed the back of her jaw a little.  He’d noticed she’d been doing that a lot lately, but hadn’t said anything about it.  She left without her coffee, her jacket, or her satchel, so he assumed she was headed to the ladies’ room.

Only minutes later, she was back, and he was sipping his coffee and reading email.  She stayed standing, lifting the lid of her own coffee and blowing across the top.  He gave her a sideways glance as she paced in front of his desk with a pensive expression.

“Thanks for the coffee,” she said.

“A few dozen more and I might make a dent in what I owe you.”

“Mm.”  The left corner of her mouth twitched into a half-smile.

He thought he might have an opening.  “Everything alright?”

“Fine.”

He thought wrong.  He nodded and clicked open another email advising an early release tomorrow for administrative personnel due to the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday.  He’d be surprised if he saw anyone but his own shadow at work tomorrow.  Even Scully had taken the day off.

By the time he opened and deleted three other emails, she was still pacing by his desk, so he tried again.  “How’s your mom?”

“She’s…”

“Fine?”

“She has the flu, actually.  She called to tell me that she didn’t think she’d be up for Thanksgiving this year.”

“Oh.”  Mulder sat back in his chair.  Now he was the one pulling a pensive expression.

“It’s fine,” she said, quickly.  “I wasn’t actually…”

He raised his brows in question and she shook her head dismissively.  He swiveled from side to side in his chair and tapped a pencil against his chin as he looked at her, which he knew made her nervous.  It worked.  She shifted her feet and suddenly couldn’t decide if she might speak or drink her coffee.  Her exasperation was palpable.

“I have a dentist appointment tomorrow,” she blurted.  “Well, I was supposed to, but now I have to cancel.”

“Why?”

“I’m having a wisdom tooth removed and Mom was supposed to take me.  I was going to use the long weekend to recover.  She has the flu now, so…”  She shrugged and finally took a sip of her coffee and then rubbed her lips together.  “They don’t let you leave on your own after anesthesia.  So, I have to reschedule.”

“I can take you.”

“No, Mulder, I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking.  I’m offering.  I can take you.”

“I don’t know…”

“It’s not like I’d be getting much done here by myself anyway.”

“I thought you always accomplished so much with me out of your hair.”

He smiled at her.  “I just tell you that so you don’t feel guilty about leaving me on my own.”

She snorted softly.

“So, what time do I pick you up?” he asked.

“Don’t you have plans for Thanksgiving, Mulder?”

He got up out of his seat and walked over to her, extending his hand.  “Fox Mulder,” he said.  “We’ve obviously never met before.”

She bashfully lowered her head a little and hesitated for a few beats.  “I need to be there by 9:15,” she finally said.  “It’s only about ten minutes away from my apartment.”

“The Skinman’s gonna have a heart attack when I submit my request for time off.”

And that’s how he ended up sitting in a dental surgeon’s office splitting his attention between vintage copies of Reader’s Digest and anxiously checking his watch every five minutes.  Occasionally, he would get up and inspect an elaborate fish tank taking up half the wall in the waiting room to watch the yellow tangs and clownfish pass from side to side.

It was nearly noon when the nurse came out to collect Mulder.  “Your wife is ready for you,” she told him.

“Oh, um…”  He tossed the Reader’s Digest aside and decided it wasn’t worth it to explain his relationship to Scully.  Instead, he followed her to a tiny, all-white recovery room at the back of the office where his partner was curled up on a cot with her eyes closed.

“Miss Scully,” the nurse said, shaking her gently on the shoulder.  “Your husband is here to take you home.”

Scully opened her eyes and stared blankly at the woman standing above her.  She sat up slowly with the nurse’s help and then Mulder crouched down and put a hand on her knee.  Her right cheek was puffed up, full of cotton swabs that poked out of the corner of his mouth.  The size of her pupils caught him off guard, so dilated her eyes almost looked black.

“Muller,” Scully murmured.  “My mowf ish mishing.”

“Your mouth is missing?”  He chuckled softly and rubbed her knee.  “Certainly not the whole mouth.”

“She might be a little loopy until the anesthesia wears off,” the nurse said.  “The tooth was impacted and took some work.”

The thought of it made Mulder cringe.  He helped Scully into her jacket and then to her feet and she swayed into him, leaned against him for support.  The nurse handed him a small white bag with painkillers and instructions, which she rattled off to him as he escorted his partner slowly down the hall.

“Take the gauze out when you get home,” she said.  “Don’t let her prod the jaw or use mouthwash for at least a week.  She’ll probably want to sleep for a few more hours, but by the time she wakes up, she’ll be in a fair amount of pain.  Give her one of the painkillers immediately, and then as needed, but no more than four in 24 hours.  Ice packs will help with the swelling and the pain.  She might feel lightheaded or woozy the next couple of days and that’s normal.  No exercise for the next week, no drinking through a straw, and no eating or drinking at all for the next two hours.  And then soft foods and room temperature liquids are fine.  The pamphlet there has all the information you need.”

Mulder nodded along, suddenly nervous about the responsibility he’d volunteered for.  He’d never had dental surgery and had no idea the amount of recovery involved.  Maybe he should have let her reschedule the appointment so her mom could take care of her, but then again, he struggled to imagine Scully’s mom, as slight as she was, getting her daughter out of the office when Mulder was practically carrying her down the hall to the door.

It took some time, but he managed to get Scully into the car and buckled in.  She turned her head towards him when he got in and gazed at him like she had just awakened from a pleasant dream.

“You’re susha good driver,” she said.

“Well, thank you,” he answered, latching his seatbelt.

“Even whener losh and dunno whereer at.”

“Lucky for you, there’s no chance I’ll get lost from here to the apartment.”

“Are we goin’ to your parparmen, Muller?”

“I’m taking you home.”

“Mm home.”  

Mulder started the car and that was the last thing Scully said until they arrived in front of her building.  He would look over at her at red lights and she was still turned towards him, her eyes half-open, blinking slowly.  When he parked the car, she turned her head and her brows came together with a deep frown.  He helped her out of the car and she took baby steps across the lawn, leaving footprints in the thin layer of snow that covered the green.

Her face contorted as though she was in great pain and he stopped with her at the foot of the stairs up to her front door.  “Muller,” she whined.  “Thish isna wherer coush lives.”

“No, it’s where your couch lives.”

“I can’d shleep on my coush.”

“Good thing you have a bed.  Come on, almost there.”

It was slow-going up the stairs.  She took them one at a time, making sure both feet were planted securely before moving forward.  By the time he got her through the door, she was sagging against him again and he considered just picking her up and carrying her the rest of the way.

“Home sweet home,” he said, unlocking her apartment door.

“Where’sh the dog?” she asked, blinking up at him.

“What dog?”

“My dog.”

“Queegqueg?  He uh…”  Mulder paused.  It probably wasn’t the best idea to let her know her dog had been eaten by a lake monster three years ago.  “Queegqueg isn’t here right now.”

“Queegqueg.  Thash a weird word, Muller.  Queeeeeeequeeeeeeeeeeeg.  Queegquegqueegquegqueegqueg.”

He put the bag of painkillers and nurse’s instructions on the table in her kitchen while she tried to wrap her head around the odd word.  “Yeah, I always thought it was a weird name for a dog, too.”

“What dog?”

“Your dog.”

“I dun have a dog.”

Mulder raised his brows.  “Okay, let’s get you to bed.”

Scully sighed a little and let Mulder lead her towards the bedroom.  He sat her down on the bed and then knelt in front of her to unlace her tennis shoes.  He wondered if he should try to coax her into getting into some pajamas, but figured it might be more trouble than it was worth.  Jeans and a sweater should be comfortable enough.  He got both shoes off her feet and then remembered the gauze needed to come out of her mouth.  

“Can you…?”  He gestured to her mouth and she followed the wag of his finger until she turned cross-eyed.  “We need to get those cotton balls or whatever it is out of your mouth.”

She opened her mouth for him and tipped her head back a little.  If he didn’t know she was drugged up before, he definitely knew it now.  A sober Scully would’ve insisted on gloves and sterilizing and sanitizing the entire room before letting him near her mouth.  A sober Scully would’ve insisted she was fine and could do it herself.  Gingerly, he plucked out the saliva and blood-soaked pieces of cotton from the inside of her cheek, trying not to let his squeamishness show too much or  get in the way.  It wasn’t lost on him that if the tables were turned, she would do the same for him, and more.

When he was sure he’d removed all the gauze, he took it into the bathroom to dispose of, not looking at the little pile of gore in his hand.  He shivered and then washed his hands with the soap that Scully had been smelling of lately, which he definitely wasn’t going to complain about because it made her smell so good.  It made the night he’d ‘taught’ her how to play baseball even more memorable.  He thought it might have been a new lotion or bath gel, but it turned out it was hand soap the whole time.  Or maybe she had a whole set of it lurking in the bathroom.  He dried his hands and peered at the bottle.  It was simply called: Almond.  He would buy her another bottle or a dozen for Christmas.  He liked it.

Back in Scully’s room, he found her poking at her cheek with the pads of her fingers and he took her hand away from her face to stop her.  “You can’t do that,” he said.

“Can’t feel anything.”

“It’ll wear off soon enough.  Let’s get your coat off and into bed.”

“We can’t.”

“Can’t what?”

“Go to bed.”

“I don’t see why not.”  He started to unbutton her coat.  “You have the day off, tomorrow’s a holiday, and then you-”

“It’s against the rules.”

“I’m not familiar with any rules that prohibit adults from taking post-surgery naps.”

“The FBI says so.”

“I haven’t read the handbook in awhile, but I don’t think this’ll warrant an official reprimand in your permanent record.  If it does, I’ve got your back.”  He struggled to get her arms free from the jacket and she was no help.  Just looked solemnly up at him while pouting her bottom lip slightly.  He finally pulled the jacket loose and then reached behind her to turn down the bed.  “Time to break some imaginary rules,” he said.

“I want to,” she whispered.  “I really want to.  But…”  She winced and then reached up to cup her jaw.

“Hurting?”

“Kind of.”

“Okay, stay put.”  He turned to leave, but was stopped by a pull on his back pocket.

“Where’re you going?”

“To get you an ice pack.”

“You’ll come back?”

“I promise.”

“Promise, promise?”

He traced an ‘x’ against his chest.  She let go of his pocket and raised her hand up to him, all her fingers folded down except for the pinkie, which was crooked slightly.

“Pinkie swear?” she asked.

He chuckled and then hooked his pinkie finger with hers and gave it a shake.  “Lay down,” he said.  “I’ll be right back.”

Afraid she might try to stop him again, he hurried out of her room for the kitchen.  While there, he read over the instruction pamphlet on the table and checked her fridge and cupboards to see if she had any soft, bland foods, in case he might need to call out for delivery later or run to the store.  He found some yogurt and cans of soup and figured that would be sufficient.  What he couldn’t find, however, was an ice pack.  He searched her freezer high and low, but found nothing.  He decided to make do with a package of frozen corn wrapped in a tea towel.

He’d hoped to find her asleep when he came back to her room, but she was still awake, albeit drowsily staring up at the ceiling and rubbing at her jaw.

“You have to stop doing that,” he said, taking her hand away from her face.  He gently placed the makeshift icepack against her cheek and sat down next to her to hold it in place.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He squeezed her hand.  She turned her head slightly and then closed her eyes and sniffed a little.  She looked up at him.

“You used my soap,” she said.

“Had to wash my hands earlier.”

“You like it don’t you?”

“It smells nice.”

“I noticed that you’ve been breathing me in lately.”

“If I have, I’m-”

“So, I went back to the shop I got the soap from and bought the lotion and the shower gel as well.”

“Oh.”  The first thing he thought was that he was right.  She did have a whole set lurking in her bathroom.  The second thought he had was that she’d just admitted she was wearing it for him.  Heat flooded his chest and tightened it, followed by a flutter low in his abdomen.

“You okay, Mulder?”

“Sorry, Scully, maybe I’m coming down with something?”

She struggled for a moment to sit up and the icepack slipped out of his hand and from her face, landing in the space between them on the bed.  She grabbed his head with both hands and pulled his towards her.

“Scully, wha-?”

“Checking for fever,” she murmured, resting her left cheek against his brow.  “You are a little warm, but I think you’re fine.”

“Not very scientific.”

“Some things are better than science.”

“I’m going to need you to repeat that when you’re no longer under the influence.”

“I haven’t been drinking.”

“You’re not exactly sober.”

She let him go and laid back down.  He retrieved the icepack and rewrapped it in the towel that came loose.  She waved him away when he tried to put it back on her cheek so he reached over to set it on her nightstand.

“I want to break the rules with you,” she said.

“Finally succumbing to my bad influence, are you?”

“I’m afraid though, Mulder.”

“What’re you afraid of?”

“The end of the world.”

“You don’t need to worry about that.  We’re gonna save the world together.  I promise.”

She shook her head.  “Our world, Mulder.  The world of you and me.”

“You’re gonna be stuck with me for a long, long time, Scully.”  He chuckled and raised his hand up, folding his fingers down and keeping his pinkie up.  “Pinkie swear.”

She grabbed his finger loosely with her own.  “I’m sorry I’m so sleepy.”

“You’re drugged up, partner.”

“Oh.”  She rubbed at one eye with the back of her hand.  “You won’t go, right?”

“I’ll hang with you until you kick me out.  You’ve got HBO, don’t you?”

“Even if we can’t go to bed?”

“What?”

“You said you wanted to take me to bed.”

“Oh.  Oh.”  He almost laughed.  Now her talk of rules made sense.  Except, what she said, what she’d been saying, was that she wanted to break those rules.  With him.  “Scully…”

Her eyes closed lazily and she took a deep, slow breath, exhaling with a sigh.  “I love you, Mulder.”

“Oh brother,” he whispered.  He sat absolutely still for the next few moments as that warm, fluttery feeling washed over him again.  He touched her shoulder and then leaned closer to her, watched her breathe slowly and evenly.  “You’re the only one I want to break the rules with too, Scully.”

Even though she was caught in sedated slumber, he was pretty sure she knew how he felt.  And he was definitely going to get her that almond soap for Christmas.

The End

[frostspoken]

Extra fluffy drabble time: 2/2

Dinner and subsequently dessert had been absolutely amazing, the entire thing filled with friendly and playful banter between the two of them, especially as the introduction of coffee liqueur that she knew blanche had really liked when they got it that past Christmas which had turned the banter from silly to sillier with a lot of recollection of old times and bursts of laughter, Blanche had a pleasant buzz going that warmed that up nicely (She’d cut them off before they could get incoherent, she knew blanche’s limit better then they did-) even as they made their way back into candela’s living room.

The two of them didn’t even get a chance to sit down before she moved over to the radio and turned it up with a excited smile on her face, practically bouncing on her feet, looking at blanche and sticking her tongue out at them in a blep. Some sneaking drunk thought made them want to bite it- but they didn’t voice that want, instead they stuck their own tongue out right back. Earning a cute pout on candela’s round cheeks and rounder lips.

“This is a favorite of mine, C’mon blanche!! you should join me, We can dance to it.”

---------- readmore solely for length so the dash doesn’t suffer -----------

“Dancin’? are ya sure you want to, I’m not really much of a dancer in all of this, y’know....an’ at’s even before havin’ a drink or two...”

“Oh come on, you know that’s a lie, you dance fantastically, you taught me how to ballroom dance.”

“I..I mean yes- but that doesn’t mean i know how to just-.”

They are interrupted before they could finish as candela pulled them into the middle of the living room and gave blanche one of those signature grins that had them internally caving because she really did look so damn happy to be spending time with them and they just couldn’t fathom it, the fact that someone so beloved found happiness by just being around them? it was a fact that sunk real deep, like a key had finally been found for the lock of that cage.

“Besides it doesn’t have to be anything fancy, it can be silly! just move ya body, it doesn’t have to look nice, as long as it’s fun!”

“As long as it’s fun?”

“Hell yeah as long as it’s fun, jus’ be goofy, you know i dun’ care.”

“...Mm, maybe i will.”

Even as the song played, blanche at first was content to just watch her enjoy herself, A sway of her hips or a shift of her arms above her head, they felt much like a content wallflower. But candela had a way of making them want to participate, Even as she started singing along to the music that blared throughout her living room. She gestured to them and smiled.

“Stay with me, baby stay with me, Tonight don't leave me alone., Walk with me, come and walk with me, To the edge of all we've ever known~”

Her voice was warm and light hearted as they watched her, Listened to her, a single step forward as they watched her. They didn’t know if they felt they were able, what if they ruined the fun she was having with her music, It looked fun and it reminded them much of the energy she gave off when all of them would go to bars and sing stupid karaoke songs.

“I can see you there with the city lights, Fourteenth floor, pale green eyes. I can breathe you in. Two shadows standing by the bedroom door, No, I could not want you more than I did right then, As our heads leaned in.”

it was them who finally broke their own stalemate and stepped closer to her, their feet shifting back and forth across the carpeted floor with a certain grace candela didn’t present, a twirl on a tippy toe that still didn’t bring, it was shyer then they usually presented and looked to her if a bit for reassurance. The smile on her face was enough to bring a surge of confidence that so heavily outweighed the burst of liquid courage. It was this courage that had their voice joining hers in a duo, After all they knew the song.

they couldn’t miss the way candela seemed to further light up, they swore she could light up the room with her enthusiasm.

“Well, I'm not sure what this is gonna be, But with my eyes closed all I see.” “Is the skyline, through the window, The moon above you and the streets below.” “Hold my breath as you're moving in, Taste your lips and feel your skin. When the time comes, baby don't run, just kiss me slowly.”

They twirled around one another, Not quite touching yet though still falling in step, blanche followed candela’s lead in a peppy, silly and slightly uncoordinated dance, At some point their ponytail fell out with all the movement and they didn’t even care! in fact they burst into a giggly laugh even as they felt the silky white hair fall around their shoulders and down their back.

“Stay with me, baby stay with me,, Tonight don't leave me alone.”

“She shows me everything she used to know, Picture frames and country roads, When the days were long and the world was small.”

“She stood by as it fell apart, Separate rooms and broken hearts, But I won't be the one to let you go.”

“Don't run away...And it's hard to love again, When the only way it's been, When the only love you knew.”

“Just walked away...If it's something that you want, Darling you don't have to run, You don't have to go....”

They were pressed closer now, hand in hand as they both danced together, Belting out the lyrics to a cheesy old song likely if slightly off key but they didn’t care. They were both goofballs and it’s clear they accepted that wholeheartedly, they press their heads together even as the song they’d danced to faded and soon was replaced by another, It’s blanche who takes the initiative this time and presses a kiss to candela’s lips. pulling back to rest their forehead on candela’s shoulder.

“..I love you.”

It’s clear it catch’s her off guard because it’s so....simple yet so openly truthful, She hugs them closer, firmly and strokes a hand through their long hair. Pressing a kiss to their skull in return before smiling against their hair.

“I love you to.”

[azvolrien]

Fifteen Years at Dun Ardech

Like the little series about Asta in Stormhaven, this is more a collection of slice-of-life vignettes than a single story; unlike them, it didn’t end up quite as long in total, so I’m posting them in one big lump.

I’ll upload a little cheat-sheet for the names of the months tomorrow.

~~~

           12th of Sirakithi, AI 2740

           Asta set the pencil aside and lifted the knife. The edge was sharp, and the point fine enough; it would do. Perhaps she could neaten it up later, once she had determined whether the principle of her idea was sound. With her tongue between her teeth, she laid the knife point against the stencil and made the first cut: a circle as perfect as she could manage, forming a ring around the centre of the piece of wood, itself a hand-sized disc as thick as her thumb and still with bark around the edges. She ran the knife around the stencil a few times until the circle was inscribed deeply into the surface.

           Movement in the corner of her eye and the creak of the bench told her Roan had sat down beside her, but she didn’t look up from her work and Roan did not speak.

           Time for the second cut. Asta put down the circle stencil, lifted a metal ruler instead, and scored a line across the wood and through the exact centre of the ring, then a second line dividing the ring into perfect quarters. She nodded, sheathed the knife, and checked her notes.

           “What are you doing?” asked Roan.

           “Well, it’s a bit of an experiment, really,” said Asta, tapping a fingernail against the runes neatly written in dark blue ink. “I’m not completely sure if this will work – and I’ll need a little help from you a bit later on.”

           “Mm-hmm. So what are you trying to do, then?”

           “One minute, my love.” Asta picked the knife back up and, with the point, carefully carved out the first of the required runes in the middle of the first quarter.

           “I have a proper chisel you can use for that,” offered Roan.

           “Maybe for some later refinements,” said Asta. “This is working for now.” Roan nodded and sat back, folding her arms and crossing her ankles.

           More runes joined the first, one in each quarter of the circle then more outside the rim, on either side of where the dividing lines crossed it. Asta held it up to eye level, blew away the wood shavings, and nodded again. Finally, she reached down to her feet and picked up a small pebble, the perfect white quartz worn into a smooth oval about an inch long and slightly flatter on the underside, then took a pen from behind her ear.

           “I haven’t seen you with that pen before,” said Roan. “Looks fancy.”

           “It’s a Constructist’s pen,” explained Asta, uncapping it and carefully drawing over all the lines she had carved, before just as carefully drawing more lines onto the surface of the pebble and dividing it into quarters like the circle. The greyish ink glittered oddly on the white stone. “Calburn – you remember I told you about him – gave it to me as a present for my last birthday.”

           “When is your birthday?” asked Roan with sudden concern.

           Asta grinned at her. “You haven’t missed it if that’s got you worried. The eighth of Rivedi – not for a while yet. What about yours?”

           “Twenty-sixth of Voynithi.”

           “Ha!”

           Roan frowned, not angrily. “Wh-why is that funny?”

           “Well – by the traditions up here, as a berserker you’re called a Child of Torravon.”

           “The old Sea Loch war goddess, yes.”

           “So it’s interesting that that was when you were born, since – well, the twenty-sixth of Voynithi is usually right in the middle of the festival of Voynazhret, the festival of the Kiraani war god.” Asta shrugged. “Whether or not Torravon and Voynazh are just different aspects of the same overarching war deity is something for the priests to argue about, but if that’s when you were born, maybe you really do have their blessing.”

           “I… couldn’t say,” said Roan thoughtfully. “So what’s special about that pen again?”

           “Oh, yes. It contains a special metallic ink. You see, for constructs and associated magics, pretty much any medium – well, not any medium, but you know what I mean – will work in the short term. You can turn an ordinary kite into a messenger construct if you know the right runes to draw, but wood and cloth just don’t hold the enchantment properly and it’ll wear off after a while, anything from a couple of days to a few weeks. For a long-term enchantment you need to work in metal and stone – specifically crystalline stone, very solid with low porosity. Which is where you come in!” Asta held up the pebble. “Crystals are fantastic at holding magic. So – if it’s all right – I’d like you to put a little bit of magic into this stone. Not a lot, just, say… as much as you’d use to summon a witchlight for reading.” She handed it over. “Don’t worry about smudging the ink; it dries quickly.”

           A faintly uncomfortable look had appeared on Roan’s face, but she clasped the pebble between her hands and closed her eyes in concentration. Nothing visibly happened.

           “I… think that’s it,” said Roan.

           Asta nodded and took the pebble back. “The moment of truth, then.” She placed the pebble in the centre of the wooden disc and rotated it until the lines matched up. Immediately the pebble began to glow with a soft white light. Holding her breath, Asta moved the pebble again so the markings were out of alignment, then back again. The light faded and reappeared accordingly. “Yes!” Asta punched the air, making Roan jump. “It worked!”

           “You were making a lamp?” asked Roan, smiling.

           “The broch’s very cosy,” said Asta, “but it also doesn’t have any windows. I can’t always be pestering you for a witchlight when I want to do some reading, but candles don’t give a very good light for it. Hence: pebble light!”

           Roan leant in to plant a kiss on her hair. “The gods were brutal not to give you magic of your own.”

           Asta shuffled closer and rested her head on Roan’s shoulder. “Whichever gods they were.”

          ---

           18th of Sirakithi, AI 2740

           After the seventh time Roan came down the stairs, ran out to her workshop, and rushed back upstairs with various materials in her arms, Asta closed her book with a snap and sat up on the couch.

           “What are you doing up there?” she asked. Roan stopped with one foot on the bottom step. “I’ve never seen you so full of beans.”

           Roan started climbing the stairs again. “I’ll show you in a wee while!” she called from halfway up them, out of sight. “I’m nearly done.”

           Asta smiled, shook her head, and went back to her book. After another ten minutes, Roan’s heavy booted footsteps clumped against the wooden boards overhead and – far less excitably than before – descended the stairs. She crossed the room from the stairway door and sat down at Asta’s feet at the opposite end of the couch, wringing her hands.

           “Are – are you all right?” asked Asta.

           “Oh, aye, aye. I was just thinking about something… Something you said earlier.”

           “…Roan, if anything I’ve said upset you, I’m sor-”

           “No, it’s nothing like that,” said Roan, brushing the apology aside with one hand. “But – you remember when you made your wee lamp?” She pointed at it on the end table beside Asta, with no sign of deterioration to the pebble’s glow.

           “Of course.”

           “When you got me to put the magic in the stone, you said to use as much as I would for a reading light. Well, I… I don’t. Conjure lights for reading, I mean. Because I don’t… I don’t read.”

           Asta blinked. “But – I know you went to university. How could-”

           “It’s… Look.” Roan picked up another book Asta had left on the couch – High Master Rathlean’s The Making of Constructs – and opened it to a random page. “What does the first sentence on this page say?”

           Asta glanced at it. “‘The exact ingredients and proportions of spell-fluid will vary depending on the size and purpose of the intended construct.’”

           “See, I can’t do that. Just… look at a page of writing and see what it says. Something just doesn’t click in here.” She prodded her forehead with a fingertip. “I have to go through it slowly, one word, sometimes one letter at a time, or it just… doesn’t make sense. So I can read, yes, but it doesn’t come easily to me, so it’s not something I do for fun. But you do! You brought your books with you when you came back here, and if there’s nothing else that needs your attention you’re always reading even if it’s a book I know you must have read before. And you… probably don’t want to just leave them in a stack all the time, so I…” She bowed her head until her chin touched her chest and mumbled something unintelligible.

           Asta leant closer. “Sorry, what was that?”

           “I said – well, just come upstairs for a minute.”

           Asta marked her place with the dust jacket, put the book down, and followed Roan upstairs to the bedroom. She had rearranged it a little, moving aside some rugs and the laundry basket to make room against one wall.

           Roan leant on the wardrobe and pointed across the room, looking at the floor. “I built a bookcase for you.”  

           There were four shelves made of flat, neatly-sanded wooden boards, evenly spaced by supports made from pine logs stripped of bark but still fragrant. On the top shelf, Roan had placed two little statues of polished stone – one a seal, the other an otter – to act as bookends.

           “You – you can rearrange the books any way you like,” said Roan as Asta knelt beside the shelves for a closer look. “I wasn’t sure what order you’d want them in, so I made sure the shelves are all far enough apart for the tallest book to stand up, and that it’ll stay steady even if you put the heavy ones on the top shelf.” Asta didn’t reply; Roan frowned, straightened up from her slouch against the wardrobe, and crossed the room to stand behind her. “Asta?”

           Trembling slightly, Asta took a deep breath, got to her feet, turned to face Roan, and tackled her onto the bed.

           “Well,” gasped Roan when they came up for air a few minutes later. “I think there was a ‘thank you’ in there somewhere.”

           ---

           6th of Gracilis, AI 2740

           Roan was singing to herself in her workshop – an old Sea Loch folksong about bringing in the catch of the day. Asta paused on the path to listen. Roan had a good singing voice, a warm, clear alto similar to her usual speaking tone, but even after months together Asta couldn’t persuade her to sing with any sort of an audience. She waited until the song was over before she steeled herself and rapped her knuckles against the door. It wasn’t latched, and swung open at her touch. She held a precautionary sleeve over her nose, but it didn’t stink as much as it sometimes did.  

           “Something the matter?” asked Roan, looking over her shoulder. “You don’t usually come in here.” She was scraping the flesh off a large fox pelt stretched out on a board, and while a leather apron protected her clothes, her hands were red to the wrists.

           Asta dragged her eyes away from the blood and sat down on a chair by the door. “Nothing’s wrong, no – but there was something I wanted to ask you about. A couple of somethings, actually.”

           “Something so urgent you made yourself come into my workshop?” said Roan. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

           “I thought I should ask before I forgot about it… or lost my nerve.” Roan gave her an encouraging nod and turned back to the pelt. “So, first something… Will you teach me to fight?”

           “What brought that on?” asked Roan.

           “I – look, I know I don’t exactly have what you’d call a… a warrior temperament.”

           “You don’t need to say that like you’re ashamed of it,” said Roan, still scraping.

           “I’m not, not really. But I – I’d like to be able to protect myself a bit better. So – will you teach me?”

           “Aye, I’ll give you a few self-defence tips.” She glanced back over her shoulder and grinned. “Tip number one: if you can, run.”

           “Well, that’s a good start.”

           “We can do some more later, once I’m done with this pelt for today.” Roan paused and considered it. “This should be a good one once I’ve finished preparing it. I was going to sell it out at the market, but would you like a new hat for the winter?”

           Asta sat up slightly. “That would be nice, actually – but please don’t leave the mask on it.”

           Roan gave her a thumbs-up and kept scraping. “What else did you want to ask about?”

           “This might be a taller order, but… The next time you go hunting, not just checking the traps but taking your bow and going up into the hills for a few days… Can I come with you?”

           “If you’re sure you want to, but – why?”

           Asta sighed and laced her fingers, looking down at her hands. “It’s not that I enjoy hunting – I don’t really have an outdoorswoman temperament either – but I… I don’t like being left on my own here with just the chickens for company.” She raised a hand to her forehead and dug her fingers into her hair. “It… gives me bad thoughts. And – and if I came too, you’d be able to use Pardus to carry more stuff!”

           “We’re going to have a chat about that ‘bad thoughts’ comment later,” said Roan quietly. “But of course you can come too. To be honest with you, I don’t like leaving you here either – not since I came back to find you’d been kidnapped, and I’d only been gone for a couple of hours that time! I hadn’t planned on going hunting for another couple of weeks, but – aye. We can set up the chicken feeder and head out together.” She paused again and cast an eye over Asta’s clothing. “You’ll need to wear trousers, though. Skirts aren’t very practical up on the hills.”

           Asta looked down at her skirt. “I don’t think I have any trousers.”

           Roan laughed. “You can borrow a pair of mine. I love you, but – picking ticks off your legs is not a task I’d look forward to.”

           “Oh. Yes, that’s understandable.” Asta turned her gaze to the fox pelt, curiosity taking over now that the shock of the blood had passed. “So… What’s the next step once you’ve finished scraping it?”

           “The skin? Well, first I buff it up a little with that stone there,” Roan nodded towards a smooth lump of granite sitting on the nearest workbench, “and then it’s time for the first coat of, um, oil.”

           “Why did you hesitate there?”

           “The oil is made out of… its brain.”

           “Oh, eurgh,” said Asta, half laughing. “Really?”

           “Aye, it makes for a nice soft pelt. And the amounts work out pretty evenly at one brain per skin, so nothing’s wasted.” She grinned over her shoulder again. “Still want that hat?”

           ---

           10th of Messis, AI 2743

           Asta crawled out of the tent and straightened up, stretching out her back. The camp was sheltered among some huge boulders on the high, windswept plateau above Loch Gorm, and a small copper kettle was already boiling on the campfire. Asta rescued it and poured out some water for a morning cup of tea. “Roan?”

           “Up here.” Her hushed voice came from the top of one of the boulders.

           Asta circled the boulder and clambered up to join her, by some small miracle not spilling any of her tea on the way. “What’s the matter?”

           Roan pressed a finger against her own lips, staring intently to the north-east where a high, steep-sided ridge rose up, its craggy summit rounded by the same long-gone glacier that had smoothed the plateau and dropped the boulders. In the far distance beyond it, the higher, sharper peaks of the Dragon’s Teeth were just visible on the horizon, black and white with stone and snow. Though it was only early autumn, a few patches of snow still clung in sheltered hollows on the ridge, and the wind from the north cut like a knife; Roan had the hood of her cloak up against it, the seal skull resting on her head. Asta pulled her coat tighter and wished she hadn’t left the fox-fur hat in the tent.

           A pair of binoculars sat on the stone between them. Asta sipped her tea as quietly as she could. “What are you looking at?” she whispered.

           “On the ridge over there,” said Roan just as quietly. “Towards the left, about halfway up, there’s a wee tree sticking out at a funny angle. You see it?” Asta nodded. “Just above that tree – on the rock face.”

           Asta shaded her eyes. “There’s – something moving?”

           Roan picked up the binoculars and held them out without looking away. Asta took them, found the tree through the lens, and slowly pointed them upwards until the moving object came into sight. Then she almost dropped the binoculars.

           “That’s a-”

           “Yup.”

           “But they’re supposed to live-”

           “Uh-huh.”

           Asta cleaned the lenses on the hem of her woollen jumper and lifted the binoculars back to her eyes as if that might change the view. “…What is a snow leopard doing this far out of the Dragon’s Teeth?”

           “No idea. Maybe it’s lost. But isn’t it beautiful?”

           Asta watched through the binoculars as the cat picked its way across the cliff face, leaping nimbly from one tiny ledge to the next until finally it reached the top and disappeared over the ridge. “Yes,” she breathed. “It is. The menageries in Kiraan and Stormhaven had tigers, lions, southern leopards – but until now the only snow leopard I’d seen was stuffed in a museum.”

           “I’d never seen any cat bigger than a lynx up here,” said Roan, shaking her head. With a faint sigh of effort, she got to her feet and offered her hand to Asta. “Mind your mug there.” She looked to the north, narrowing her eyes. “We left enough in the feeder to last the hens another couple of days, but I don’t like the look of those clouds on the horizon. Best we start heading back down to the broch.”

           They broke camp and loaded the packed-up tent, the kettle, and the gralloched carcass of yesterday’s red stag onto Pardus’s back.

           “It’s an older beast,” said Roan as she wrapped the antlers in cloth to protect Pardus’s smooth fur from the points, “so it’ll need to hang for a while, but we’ll get a good bit of venison out of it. Should last us a while if we store it right.” She caught Asta’s eye and pulled her in for a hug, leaning down a little to touch their foreheads together. “Don’t worry, I won’t make you help with the butchery.”

           “I think I had too genteel an upbringing,” said Asta as she led Pardus along the narrow deer trail through the heather.

           “Oh, aye?” said Roan, up ahead; the trail was too narrow to walk side-by-side.

           Asta paused to button up the ear-flaps of her hat. “It – well, you know it’s not a moral objection. You don’t let them suffer and nothing goes to waste – and I love being out on the hills with you. It’s just, watching the process of it…”

           Roan stopped walking to let her catch up. “You don’t need to worry about it,” she assured her. She beckoned Asta nearer and drew in close to her ear. “I’ll tell you a secret,” she murmured. Asta nodded. “The first time Granda took me hunting and I saw him gralloch a deer… I just about sicked my own guts out.”

           “Oh, Roan!” Asta laughed and pushed her away. Roan just smiled and started walking again.

           As the trail reached the edge of the plateau and wound down through a forested glen towards the sea, it gradually widened until they could walk two abreast again. It was warmer beneath the sheltered trees; Roan had to lower her hood, while Asta tucked the fox-fur hat into one of Pardus’s saddlebags. The sun cast a shifting light through the leaves, which were only just beginning to turn.

           Then, down the slope to their right, towards the sound of the river that had carved the glen, something moved among the trees – something huge. Roan stopped in her tracks and flung a protective arm out in front of Asta, readying her spear in her other hand. Twigs snapped and branches rustled. The creature emerged into the open, turned, and froze at the sight of them. One ear flicked.

           “Well,” said Roan softly, wide-eyed. She slowly lowered the spear. “Isn’t this a day for wildlife.”

           The great elk stood completely still. It was even taller than an ordinary elk with broad, flat antlers tapering out to long, sweeping points along the leading edge, each antler almost as long as Roan was tall, but its muzzle was more like that of the stag tied over Pardus rather than an elk’s comical drooping snout. It lowered its head a little as if considering a charge. Roan groped blindly for Asta’s hand and held it tightly; Asta squeezed Roan’s hand hard in reply. Neither of them took their eyes off the deer.

           Roan swallowed, let go, and took one sudden step forwards, flinging both arms up with a wordless yell. The great elk bolted like any other deer, bounding away down the trail and back into the trees and out of sight.

           Asta allowed herself to breathe again. “I thought they were extinct in the Sea Lochs!”

           “They are rare,” said Roan. “I’ve found tracks and the odd carcass, but that – I’ve never seen a live one before.”

           Shaking a little as the tension eased, Asta edged closer to Roan and wrapped both arms around her waist. Almost absently, her eyes still fixed on the point where the great elk had disappeared, Roan gathered Asta in against her chest and kissed her forehead, smoothing down her hair with one hand. “You all right?”

           Asta nodded, breathing deeply. “You?”

           “Aye. Aye, I’m all right. Not gonnae let any daft stag mess with my wife, even a stag as big as that one. Whew. Let’s get this other one home, eh?”

           “You remember the last time we were in Auchtertan?” asked Asta as they began to follow the trail down once again. Roan nodded. “I picked up an interesting volume in that little bookshop near the mercat stone, written by a wizard with a background in hunting and farming. There were some diagrams that might be useful – runic arrays he used to stop meat from spoiling, or slowing it down at least.”

           “We wouldn’t go through as much salt,” said Roan thoughtfully. “Aye, we can give them a try.”

           “Roan?” said Asta a couple of hours later, as the trees thinned out and the glitter of sunlight on seawater came into sight up ahead.

           “Mm-hmm?”

           “You called me your wife earlier.”

           “I did, aye. We’ve been together long enough for it – suppose it’s a wee habit I’ve got into. Nice habit, though.”

           “Do you… want to make that official?”

           Roan stopped dead and stared at her, eyebrows raised and a faint smile on her face. “Asta zeDamar, was that a proposal?”

           “Not a very romantic one, I know,” said Asta ruefully. “But I thought – we could maybe ride up to Duncraig for a few days. Book a hotel room, go to the registrar’s office… Make a little holiday of it.”

           Roan lifted her off her feet and kissed her soundly.

           “Was that a yes?”

           “It was, aye.”

           ---

           15th of Gracilis, AI 2743

           Pardus galloped over the massive Kingsferry Bridge, leaving Duncraig further behind with every step. Asta tried to concentrate on riding, but every so often her eyes were drawn to the brand-new silver ring on her left hand, and a small smile appeared on her face.

           “Maybe we should have tied a ‘just married’ sign to its tail,” laughed Roan, seated behind her on the construct’s back with her arms snugly around Asta’s waist. “Hey, Asta?”

           “Yes?”

           “When we get to the crossroads at the far end, can we go straight over?”

           “What? The road home is to the left.”

           “I know, I know – but there’s something I want to show you first.”

           Asta didn’t answer. Her smile faded, and Pardus slowed to a sedate jog.

           Roan leant forwards to try and see her face. “Are you all right?”

           “The road straight over goes to Castle MacArra,” said Asta quietly.

           “Ah.” Roan held her a little tighter and kissed the side of her neck. “We don’t need to go that far – there’s just a house I need to visit, well outside the estate borders.”

           “Really? Why?”

           Roan hummed for a second. “It’s a surprise.”

           “So mysterious,” said Asta, the smile creeping back. “Well – all right. But we might have to stop overnight before we get home.”

           The house in question was a sprawling single-storey building with a slate roof and walls of warm red sandstone, placed in the middle of a huge garden with plenty of shrubs and winter-bare trees among the flower beds and patches of long grass. To one side, a carriage with two constructs in harness sat in an open-ended coach-house, while a little pointed turret above the main door was decorated by an iron weathervane with a silhouette of a running dog above the points of the compass.

           “Roan, what is this?” asked Asta as she climbed down from the saddle.

           Roan took her hand and led her over to the door. “I – I wanted to get you something really special for a wedding present. So I started asking around at the markets, and went to the library in Auchtertan…”

           “You went to the library for me?” Asta touched her heart, eyes wide.

           “The librarians were very helpful. And I found out about this place! The woman who lives here breeds rough-coated wolfhounds, and she has a good reputation. I – I’ve never had a dog. But the books said that they’re a clever, affectionate breed that take well to training, and that they’re very long-lived for dogs – almost twenty years!”

           “They’re also very big,” Asta pointed out.

           Roan’s smile was only a little embarrassed, and she clasped both of Asta’s hands between her own. “I still worry a bit about leaving you alone in the broch,” she said. “Even if it’s only for a few hours, I worry. In case something happens while I’m away. I know it’s daft, I know you look after yourself just fine – but I still worry. So if we’re getting a dog, I… I want it to be one that can keep an eye out for you.”

           Asta freed one hand and reached up to brush Roan’s hair out of her face, stroking her forehead with one thumb. Her fringe was getting long. “That wasn’t an objection,” she said gently. “It won’t hurt to give your self-defence tips some backup.”

           Roan smiled and rang the doorbell.

           A stout, motherly woman answered it with a smile. “Yes, you’re here to see Whisky’s litter, right?” she said when Roan introduced herself. “I got your letter – I’m Siobhan. Through here, through here – the pups aren’t old enough to leave her yet, not for another couple of weeks, but I can introduce you and you can see if there’s anyone you get on with.” She opened a door into a pleasant, airy room, its floor covered with straw and newspaper, and waved them through. Asta paused, her path firmly blocked by an enormous dog with a rough, shaggy, grey-brown coat.

           “This is Whisky,” said Siobhan, stroking the massive wolfhound’s ears. “Each of you hold out the back of your hand to her, let her have a sniff, and she’ll settle right down.”

           They did as they were told. Whisky took her time inspecting them, snuffling at their hands, but she seemed satisfied by whatever she found and, tail wagging, lay down on a wide, somewhat chewed cushion in the corner of the room. In her place, half a dozen boisterous puppies wobbled over to say hello.

           Asta sat down on the floor with a bump.

           “I’ll leave you to it for a while,” said Siobhan, smiling. “Would you like some tea? I’ll go put the kettle on.”

           “I’ll give you a hand,” said Roan, trying not to laugh as the puppies swarmed Asta under Whisky’s experienced eye.

           “Yes, we can have a chat in the kitchen – I like to have an idea of the homes my dogs are going to.”

           They returned to the dogs’ room a while later, half-finished mugs of tea in hand.

           “Well, it doesn’t sound like there should be any problems,” said Siobhan. “You ought to have plenty of room out there, and I know there’s a good vet working out of a surgery in Auchtertan. But if you’ve no objections I’ll send one of my daughters out for a wee inspection in a few days, just to be on the safe side.”

           “We don’t have a spare room for her,” warned Roan. “She’ll have to sleep on our couch if she ends up staying the night.”

           “Och, there’s a wee inn near the vet’s place she can use,” said Siobhan, waving a hand. “Let’s see what your wife has to say.”

           Roan opened the door, took in the scene, and closed it again. “Can you give her a minute? She’s completely covered in puppies.”

           “Ah.”

           Roan let herself back into the room and knelt down. Asta lay flat on her back on the floor with a look of delirious happiness on her face. One of the puppies had made itself comfortable and fallen asleep on her stomach, while its siblings joyfully wrestled each other across her legs.

           “So, ah…” said Roan. “Have you chosen a puppy?”

           Asta managed to lift a hand and laid it over the one using her as a bed. Her smile somehow grew even wider.

           Roan laughed and leant down to kiss her. “I’ll tell Siobhan.”

           ---

           8th of Nivalis, AI 2754

           “Any plans for today?” asked Asta. “Other than the usual chores, I mean.”

           Roan stirred a spoonful of honey into her porridge. “I thought I’d take the boat out and go fishing,” she said. “See if I can catch something more substantial than the river traps can take. It looks like it’ll be a nice day for it – bright for this time of year and not too windy. Want to come?”

           “No, I’ll let you wrestle fish by yourself,” said Asta. “I think the chicken feeder’s timer needs a few tweaks – I was going to see if there’s anything I can do with the clockwork. Can you make sure you’re back before dark, though? I’ll need your help if the runic arrays need refreshed.”

           “I’ll see to it,” promised Roan. “Bramble can keep you company in the meantime – won’t you, Bramble?”

           Bramble’s attention was focussed on her morning biscuit, but she wagged her tail at the sound of her name.

           “That was a yes,” translated Asta, reaching down to scratch the back of the huge dog’s neck. “Do you think Riabhach will help out again?”

           “Aye, he usually shows up outside the mating season,” said Roan. “He’s quite good at chasing fish onto my line – not sure why, when he can catch them just fine by himself.”

           “Maybe he just likes your company,” said Asta.

           “Maybe. I’ll set a fish aside for him anyway.”

           With the morning’s chores out of the way, Roan packed herself a lunch, kissed Asta farewell, and jogged up the coastal track to the boat shed on its beach. Asta watched from the wall top until she was out of sight, smiled, and went to inspect the chicken feeder with Bramble trotting at her heels. Fully-grown, the top of her head reached slightly past Asta’s waist.

           There was nothing wrong with the chicken feeder that a little grease to the gears couldn’t fix, but the arrays on the feed container that halted rot and deterred pests were getting worn and scuffed. Asta freshened the runes with some metallic paint, but anything more would have to wait until Roan came back from fishing. She washed her hands and glanced up at the sky. The earlier clear blue was gone, replaced by ominous shades of grey. Asta sighed and whistled to Bramble, collecting her harness and leash from the hook by the door. “Time for a walk, eh, girl?”

           Bramble wagged her approval.

           The rain started on the way back from a long walk up the coast of the loch. Asta muttered a curse and pulled up her hood, breaking into a run that Bramble easily kept pace with, but the downpour only grew heavier until she was soaked to the skin before she had even reached the broch. Trees thrashed in the rising wind; somewhere behind her, the creak of wood rose to a scream as a branch tore off and was carried away. Had the sun set? It was hard to tell – black clouds shrouded it completely. Asta reached the gate and rushed through. The outer wall held off the worst of the wind, but even so the hens had already taken shelter in their coop. Asta closed the hatch and bolted it to keep them safely inside, then let herself and Bramble into the broch.

           “Roan?” No answer. Nothing to worry about – she must have taken the boat into some sheltered cove to wait out the storm. “Stay,” Asta added to Bramble, who had just given herself a vigorous shake in the middle of the entrance passage. Bramble sat down to wait by the door, licking the water from her whiskers, until Asta returned from upstairs with an old towel for her. “There we go, that’s better, isn’t it?” said Asta, untying Bramble’s harness and drying her fur as well as she could. “Who’s a good dog? Yes, you are, you are! No, don’t – don’t lick me. Let’s get the fire going so you can lie down and dry off properly. Then…” Asta looked down at her sodden clothes. “Then I’ll try to dry off.”

           Changed into dry clothes and with the rest draped over a frame by the fire, Asta settled down on a couch with a book, firmly nudging the still-damp Bramble back down on the rug with one foot when she tried to climb up beside her. She was far too big to nap on Asta’s stomach any more, but she never quite seemed to understand that.

           They waited.

           Asta got up to fill Bramble’s bowl and heated a couple of leftover fishcakes for herself. The wind shrieked outside and did not let up until long after Asta had dozed off on the couch, one hand resting on Bramble’s shoulders.

           The storm had passed by morning, leaving a clear sky and still, cold air, but Roan had not returned. Asta climbed to the broch’s rampart and looked in all directions for any sign of a tall red-haired figure in a sealskin cloak. Still nothing. Asta let the hens out and collected the eggs, then boiled a couple of them for breakfast; one for herself and one for Bramble as a treat. After another silent hour, she buckled Bramble’s harness, clipped on the leash, and set off towards the boat shed. It stood open and empty on the deserted beach.

           Asta’s nails dug into the palm of her hand. She let Bramble off the leash and climbed to the top of the rocks past the boat shed’s beach. Still nothing – wait. She called for Bramble to follow and began to run, along the coast and over the uneven rocky pavement, stumbling on patches of seaweed and splashing through shallow rock pools.

           She slid to a halt and almost lost her balance at the edge of the rocks, staring down into a deeper channel carved where the sea had found a point of weakness. It was like a miniature gorge, about as wide and as deep as Asta was tall, and as the tide ebbed it left white sand bare at the landward end.

           White sand covered with spars of shattered wood. Treated boards, not loose branches, smoothed and curved into the proper shapes. Some were still nailed together; most just ended in a mess of splinters. One loose board still carried some decoration: patterns based on the carvings from the ancient symbol-stones, and writing in a hand Asta recognised as her own.

           A name: Each-Uisge. Asta’s breath shuddered in her chest, harder and harder until it almost wouldn’t come at all. Bramble whined and licked her hand, leaning against her hip.

           Asta fell to her knees and screamed at the waves until her voice died.

           ---

           Light-Through-Waves’ 34th Winter

           Sometimes, Light-Through-Waves really wondered why he bothered. Seal-That-Walks was quite clever for a human, and he was rather fond of her and her mate Black-Mane, but she often couldn’t understand even the simplest things without a flat shape to look at. Any foal could tell the storm was coming, could taste it in the wind and the water – the rest of the herd had gone to ride it out in the south coves – but when he had tried to warn Seal-That-Walks she had just taken it for a game and kept floating out on the hollow log. He had thought that if he helped her catch enough fish, she would go back to her tower on the shore before the storm hit, but no. She had eventually realised he was worried – just before the storm hit, by which point it was far too late. The wind had ripped away the log’s wing and raised waves that crushed the wood to pieces.

           Light-Through-Waves had tried to help. Every foal knew it – if you couldn’t make it to a cove, then you should dive deep below the waves for as long as your breath would hold. He had grabbed Seal-That-Walks’ front flipper in his jaws, careful not to break her fragile human hide with his teeth, and dragged her down to a safe depth, but the foolish creature had fought him, battering at the soft skin around his nostrils with the tiny claws of her other flipper until he had to let go and she shot back to the dangerous surface. In a storm! Seal-That-Walks was a strong swimmer for a human – so, not very strong at all by any proper standard – but even a grown stallion like Light-Through-Waves had trouble at the surface in such weather, and the sea had carried her away. He had tried to follow at a safe depth, only resurfacing when his lungs could no longer bear submersion, but the current had her and she was out of sight in the space of a heartbeat. Light-Through-Waves pinned his ears back against his skull and swam with the current.

           Slowly, the storm above weakened, and as the sun rose Light-Through-Waves lifted his head from the water, trying to catch any scent on the wind. There – a faint breeze from the west. He ducked back below the surface and bared his teeth as he swam, letting the water filter across his tongue without going down his throat. Beneath the salt was the sharper taste of human blood.

           The water was getting shallower; he could feel it in his whiskers. There was an island up ahead, one he knew; the Whale-That-Was-Not swam there whenever it left the loch by Seal-That-Walks’ tower. Not much good for hauling out – the rocks were steep and any beaches big enough for a herd were always busy with humans – but there was a reef off the coast that was all right for a quick rest. He would be coming up on it soon.

           The taste of blood grew stronger. Light-Through-Waves lifted his head from the water. The reef was just up ahead – and it was occupied. Seal-That-Walks hung from the rough stone, half in the water, bashing against the rock with each wave, and limp except for one clutching flipper. Light-Through-Waves drew up beside her and gripped the rock with his own claws. The edges were sharp, but his hide held up better than hers and none of his blood clouded the water.

           He barked softly and nuzzled her face as he would to encourage one of his foals. Her face was almost white beneath the streaks of blood and her odd blue markings, but she breathed. One eye was bruised and swollen shut, but the other opened a tiny crack. She coughed, water splattering from her mouth, and made the sounds she used to mean Light-Through-Waves: a small growl behind her teeth and a hiss at the back of her throat. Alive. Good. Light-Through-Waves drew back and shoved his long head beneath her foreleg. With vast effort and little strength, Seal-That-Walks released her grasp on the stone and clung to his neck. Light-Through-Waves pushed off from the reef and swam for the beach. It was too close to where the Whale-That-Was-Not rested for his liking, too near the humans that cared for the Whale, but humans were what Seal-That-Walks needed.

           He hauled out on the beach, tired after the long swim. Seal-That-Walks lost her grip on his neck and collapsed to the sand, shivering and exhausted. One of her hind flippers did not look right. Light-Through-Waves gave it a nudge, and she flinched away with a strangled cry. Injured, then.

           Humans had less blubber than a newborn foal, nothing to keep them warm but the extra skins they wore over their own. Next to useless. Light-Through-Waves curled around her and lay down to wait for help.

           The sun climbed higher, casting a warm light over the beach, and his fur fluffed out as it dried. The Whale swam out from its den and away towards the mainland. Then – human voices up the beach. Light-Through-Waves raised his head. There was a large group of them coming down the sand, picking through the debris along the tideline. He roared to get their attention. It worked – they began to run down the beach towards him, shouting and waving their arms. One young female with a red mane like Seal-That-Walks drew ahead of the herd and flung out one arm, throwing something that stung Light-Through-Waves’ snout. He flattened his ears and backed slowly away from Seal-That-Walks, baring his teeth. The young female showed her own and he reared back in surprise – since when did humans have fangs? – but it wasn’t a real threat and she knelt on the sand beside Seal-That-Walks, her shoulders up as if she was trying to make her mane bristle.  

           The rest of the herd caught up, all of them fully-grown or near enough. None of them carried blades, but the air shimmered where they raised their arms and more unseen wasps struck at his muzzle and shoulders, painful but without drawing blood. They thought he was the threat! But they didn’t want to hurt Seal-That-Walks; as far as he could read human expressions, there was concern on their faces as they gathered around her. He retreated into the sea, watching as the odd shimmers disappeared and one human ran back along the beach. More of them arrived, lifted Seal-That-Walks onto a strange flat log, and carried her away.

           There was nothing more that Light-Through-Waves could do. He dived beneath the water and began the long swim to the mainland. His herd would be wondering where he had gone – and Black-Mane would want to know her mate was safe.

           Quite how he would explain to Black-Mane that her mate was safe… He would have to give that some thought.

~~~

To Be Continued! ain’t no bury your gays over here

Some notes:

Asta originally mentioned the bookshop being near the mercat cross, that being what they’re called in the real world (here); however, since they don’t have Christianity but are aware of crucifixion, the cross has a rather different cultural meaning for them and I changed her line to a more neutral ‘mercat stone’. 

Bramble’s breed isn’t just referred to as a rough-coated wolfhound because they don’t have an Ireland; while they were the main inspiration for how she looks, she isn’t an Irish Wolfhound. For one, they generally don’t live for more than about eight years compared to Bramble’s expected twenty.

As you might expect for a wild animal, Riabhach doesn’t actually call himself that. However, both Roan’s name for him and his own refer to his markings: riabhach means ‘brindled’, while ‘Light-Through-Waves’ comes from the patterns you get on a surface when light shines on it through water. He also, despite his intelligence, has a rather unrealistic idea of human lung capacity.

[spycethra]

Title: Dress me

Pairing: RK-900 x Reader

Relationship level: Coworkers/ Silent Forbidden Attraction 

Rating: Fluff

Summary: You’re having a bad day and call off work for a sick day. RK-900 isn’t having it, but you refuse to go unless he figures out what you should wear. 

“Ugggghhhh, I dun wanna…”

You groan miserably as you burrow deeper beneath the covers of your bed.

For some reason, RK-900 felt it necessary to perform a house call. Something rather unheard of when a person called in sick. But then again, it was you who called in sick.

“Humans require at least ten to fifteen minutes of sunlight a day in order to fulfill their vitamin D quota,” Richard explained firmly before throwing open the curtains in your room, forcing the evil sunshine in.

“Nooooooo,” you whined, sneaking a pillow beneath your blanket fortress to bury your face within, “I’m siiiiick. Go awaaaaay.”

“You are not ill. Your white blood cell count is optimal and there are no changes in your body temperature.”

“How do you even know that?” You grumble back with another moan.

The light was somehow bleeding through the fabric of your blanket. Suddenly the entire thing was hurled upwards and cast aside, much to your embarrassment.

“I-I- You can’t-!” You were too stunned to stop him as he reached to grab you only to manage to snatch your flailing ankle as you scurried away in retreat. “Let go! I’m not going back to work, Nines!”

“Malingering is a serious offense, Examiner.”

“I’m noooot though!”

Your surprised by how small you are in comparison to him. His entire hand engulfed around your slim ankle as though it belonged to a doll. You didn’t have long to muse about this, however, as he dragged you back towards him, hauling you up into a standing position - much to your despair.

“Let’s go, Y/N. Don’t make me have to dress you.”

And then an evil thought came to mind. How far would Richard go to make you see this silly crime scene? Certainly that cold sea of code couldn’t withstand every situation, could it?

“Fine. Dress me.”

It’s at that moment that you feel his platform tense against you as he struggles not to hold you too tightly.

“...That’s.. unnecessary. Dress yourself.”

“I’m not going unless you pick something for me.”

“I’m not your caretaker.”

“Then why are you even here, Nines?”

A deep silence fell between both of you and you knew you had him. He couldn’t look you straight in the eye. Instead, he gave an interesting sounding growl before dropping you back on the bed. A swirl of bad thoughts filled your head but they were immediately quelled as he determinedly marched toward your dresser.

He’s really gonna do it…

You rolled onto your stomach to watch him in amazement as he proceeded to examine the drawers, awkwardly lifting the contents with the most adorable confusion.

“...How do you pick… which undergarments to utilize?” he asks you slowly while seeming entirely adrift in a world not his own.

He lifts up a lacy thong without looking at it directly, merely showing it to you while his LED is bursting red.

Oh my god. He’s trying to be MODEST.

Your hands cover your mouth as you contain a scream at his unanticipated cuteness.

“U-Um, well, sometimes it just depends on my mood,” you reply while wondering what he’s going to make out it.

“...Your mood?”

“Mmhmm.”

You rest your chin atop your interlaced fingers as though conducting a business deal, yet in reality you were just tormenting the poor android.

“What… are you feeling?”

You could tell he did a very in depth scan of you a few moments prior, but indicating an actual mood was still an unattainable art.

“What do you think?” You ask playfully, crawling to the edge of the bed to paw at his perfectly built shoulders.

Your surprised at how he stiffens at your touch before slowly relaxing. The red that adorned his temple is now a simple amber as he turns his head to you.

“You’re…” He watches your face for its every detail. “You’re happy.”

“So what would I wear?”

He frowns slightly as he really tries hard to calculate just what you mean. Honestly, you don’t even know what you’re saying. You just want to see what result he ends up with.

“This… I must admit is difficult.”

“Mm? Why is that?”

“Because I am conflicted.”

“Why’s that?”

“You are familiar with my updated features as the RK-900, are you not?” he asks rather seriously yet still careful, as though handling glass.

It surprises you but the mystery makes him all the more enticing as you lean closer.

“Of course, I do. But what are you trying to say, Nines?”

“I don’t need just a heartbeat or breathing pattern to know what you’re feeling… I can activate my advanced olfactories.”

“Meaning you can smell better. Okay, so what does that mean to me?”

You can’t tell why he’s so hesitant to say. The crimson circle is back and blaring. He seems so nervous that you wonder if he might short circuit if you don’t do something soon.

“I said you were happy just now. I was dishonest. I meant to say that you were excited.”

“Okay?” You still couldn’t fathom what sort of excitement could rear such a-

Oh... OH.

Now you can’t look him straight in the eye.

No. He couldn’t. Could he? No! That’s not… Why would they give him that?!

You cover your mouth, not trusting yourself to say anything anymore.

God. And he had to wear the tight black sleeveless shirt today too… Motherfucker. 

“Y/N?”

You give a strange ‘mm?’ as a reply that sounds way too high pitched to be your normal self.

“I don’t think that I am capable of accomplishing this task.”

His answer hits you hard in the gut. Of course this would make him uncomfortable… Now you suddenly feel like some sort of creep for asking. It was just supposed to silly joke… and instead it felt like the ultimate rejection.

“I-uh… Yeah. I understand. But… If you could… Could you tell me why?”

You at least wanted that.

Is it… because I’m not an android? Or maybe because I’m not good enough? Is it just...  me? 

The thoughts would only continue to eat away at you until the investigator told you himself for certain.  

It felt like ages before RK-900 gradually turned to you, his eyes unable to meet yours as he mumbled something under his breath.

“Uh, sorry. Didn’t catch that. I don’t have your unique hearing after all.”

His jaw clenched, worrying you a little, before he boldly met your gaze with piercing blue.

“As of this moment, Examiner... I would prefer you with nothing on.”

“...”

And that’s how a very unprecedented relationship between lady and machine began.  

AN: So I saw a few Reader x Character fics for DBH and wanted to try one out for funsies. Hopefully someone enjoys it. 

[eloarei]

11 Questions Meme (again)

Got tagged by @braincoins =] Rules: answer these 11 questions and make 11 new ones, then tag some people to answer those. 

Name a piece of media (book, movie, video game, TV show, comic, song, etc.) that’s really stayed with you and why. Ooh man, so many. But let’s just say... “Dark Lord of Derkholm” by Diana Wynne Jones. Why? I mean, have you read any DWJ books? They’re amazing! Literally everything I aspire to. =D And I read this one in middle school, when I think I really needed some positive, clever, fun inspiration. 

What’s a type of fanwork (fanart, fanfic, fanvids, fancomics, cosplay, etc.) that you don’t do but wish you could?  Mmm... I’d say comics? but really I think the answer is vids, actually. I don’t really watch fanvids very often, but tbh I really like the concept of them, and I always have a ton of ideas. There’s currently one I’ve been wanting to make for a year or two, but it’ll require me setting up my Elgato and playing ME3 again. 

Horde or Alliance? (or option C: wtf are you even talking about?) I mean honestly I don’t know what that means but neither of those sound like good options. 

Do you have any favorite webcomics? YES.  1. Hanna Is Not A Boy’s Name -- okay yeah it’s in infi-hiatus but just, forget that. My first webcomic love, a “sugar-coated horror” about a paranormal investigator and his zombie partner and some vampires and a werewolf and ghosts. It’s weird, fairly short, great, and I made a lot of friends through it!  2. Trying Human -- LONG and CONSISTENTLY UPDATED. A wonderful story about aliens AND ROMANCE. Yes, WITH THE ALIENS. Emy has a great style and well-written story and etcetcetc.  3. Long Exposure -- grungy nerd/bully romance... plus superpowers!  4. A Tale of Two Rulers -- a Zelda fancomic, where Zelda and Ganondorf form a political marriage. I love the black-and-white painted realism style! 

Name a piece of media you wish more of your buddies here on Tumblr were into so you could geek out about it with them Well, any of the above, I guess! Also, Boku no Hero Academia, even though really a good majority of my friends are already into it. ^^ If I had to pick, I’d say “Trying Human” because it deserves more attention, or “HINABN” because lol I want people to read my longfic XD; 

Favorite dessert?  ...I... dunno. Pie? Depends on the mood. Butter cookies. 

How many angels can dance on the head of a pin? Depends on how tiny they are, I guess. Normal size? Maybe one, if he’s really talented. 

Share something you learned recently! The question "How many angels can dance on the head of a pin?" (alternatively "How many angels can stand on the point of a pin?"[1]) is a reductio ad absurdum of medieval scholasticism in general, and its angelology in particular, as represented by figures such as Duns Scotus and Thomas Aquinas.[2][3] It is first recorded in the 17th century, in the context of Protestantapologetics.

Pizza, burgers, or tacos? Mm, tacos! Pizza is number 2. Not a huge burger fan, even though I eat them all the time. (Convenience.) 

Favorite musical? This will change from time to time, but right now I’m gonna say “THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA!” There, there’s the full movie soundtrack for you. Give it a listen. The opening theme is still one of the best tunes ever. 

Am I annoying you with all these questions? xD I’d just not answer them if I was annoyed. 

I’m too lazy (...ah wait, let’s say ‘busy’) to make questions or tag people, so just... *shrugs* Steal Socks’ questions if you like them. 

[oneinathousandwords-blog]

So as it Turns Out, I Have a Life Outside of Tumblr and Yu-Gi-Oh! . . .

My community college hosts a student writing contest every year. I entered in two categories, short story and poem.

My poem didn’t win anything. That wasn’t surprising. It wasn’t my best work, but I was content with letting other people see it.

BUT I WON THIRD PLACE IN THE SHORT STORY CONTEST.

Let me put this into perspective. They got close to 100 entries. I am home-schooled, so this is my first time in an organized learning environment. I am also under the age of eighteen.

And I was in third place.

Below is the story I entered, I hope you enjoy!

The Forest’s Protector

 Times were harsh. Everyone knew that. You could ask Mercas, the butcher, whose animals were smaller and smaller every month. Sheridan, the wine-maker, he’d say that his vines were weak and slow growing this year. Flinn the baker couldn’t give out as many thirteenth rolls to make baker’s dozens as he used to. Now, it was just a normal twelve.

Reyn knew that. She’d known that life was rougher than usual for a while, ever since her father’s wheat crop rotted from too much rain. Their sheep this year were either lame or barren too. Things weren’t easy for the country, and hadn’t been good all season.

           As always when things were like this, talk went around of cutting down Cornswood, settling it, using it for farming. But if talk turned to settling the forest, then talk would turn to the forest’s protector, the creature that gave the woods its name.

           “I’m telling thee, a unicorn lives in yonder woods,” Sheridan argued. “Our fortunes’ll change, men, but a beast such as that should better be left ‘lone.” Reyn liked the thought of that.

           “Tain’t no one’s seen a unicorn since before our fathers’ fathers.” Bain, the butcher’s son, made his retort. “What’s to say the unicorn still dwells in thar woods, or even exists at all?” Reyn agreed with his words a little too.

           “Should we really make more work for ourselves?” Reyn’s father, the farmer, wiped the foam from his mouth and broke into the conversation. “We’ve enough work for the season as it is. Why add more work to ourselves by clearin’ trees, unicorn or no? After the harvest, maybe. Not now. I’ve enought work of my own, without borrowing trouble from unicorns.”

Everyone nodded, and spit, and drank from their cups, and decided in a round-about manner that Reyn’s father was prob’ly right. When that had been determined, talk went to the horse races that had finished a few days earlier. Sitting at the bar, nibbling on some cheese, Reyn said slowly, “I’d like to see mysel’ a unicorn one of them days.”

           Only Nard, the withered old barkeep, heard her quiet little wish. He laughed, dry and harsh. “Pish. Folks as us don’ see none of them yoonikerns. Folks as us would sell one of them fer a handful of copper pennies, yes ‘ee would. Yoonikerns only come to the rich an’ the happy, the perty-perty princesses that live in high palaces.” He spat wetly, his voice as dry as a dead leaf.

Reyn stared at him, chewed, swallowed, and then said methodically, “Still. It’d be real perty. I’d like as to see one.”

“Maidens far fairer than ‘ee already went out this year to ol’ Cornswood from all the villages ‘round.” Nard said, refilling tankards as the need arose. “They saw naught but bears an lil’ squirrelies. I could’a told them that, and saved ‘em their lil’ sore feet.” He laughed again, cold and hoarse. “Don’ you gi’ another thought to such a thin’. Your father needs you to work. He’s no time for gals that go a’chasin’ after yoonikerns.”

           Reyn knew he was right. It was almost harvesting time, and she didn’t have the hours to waste to look for white horses. Still, the nagging desire to see one did not leave her heart. She knew a bit about the interesting creatures – horses with horns that came to girls all alone in the woods – but she figured Ol’ Priest would know the best way to go about finding one. He knew all sorts of out-of-the-way things no one else seemed to bother knowing.

           She supposed his real name wasn’t Ol’ Priest, because he had said his name when he had first come, and it was Father David. But everyone called him Ol’ Priest, so Reyn had just figured the name he had first said wasn’t his real, what-everyone-actually-called-him name.

           So the next day, after her lunch and the morning chores, Reyn went to the ol’ church where the Ol’ Priest lived. As usual, it was dusty, maybe a little dirty, but pretty in its own quiet little way. The interior was peaceful, in a solemn sort of way. “Hey Ol’ Priest, tell me about unicorns,” she said, moving to stand beside him as he dusted off candlesticks.

           “First, child, cover your head. You’re in Our Lord’s Presence.” He gestured to the Tabernacle set into the wall, giving her a big clean handkerchief. She covered her hair with it, and repeated her question.

           He thought for a moment. “I don’t know much of unicorns, to be honest. I can tell you that they look a lot like horses, only with long white horns, and eyes like lightning, and feet as delicate, strong, and swift as the wind. They only come to the call of the purest maidens, and will rescue the lives of the gentle. If one makes a bridle out of silver, and puts it on them, they’ll obey your commands, according to legends.” He smiled gently. “Do you want to look for the one that lives in Cornswood, Reyn?”

           She looked up at him with plain, dirt-brown eyes. “I dun know fer sure. I wou’ like to see one though. And I will, you know, even if ol’ Nard says I won’t.”

           “Yes, I have no doubt of that. I don’t think there are many maidens with hearts purer than yours in these parts.” Ol’ Priest agreed.          

           “What’s pure mean?” Reyn asked, helping him straighten out a new altar-cloth.

“It means that you aren’t tempted by earthly sins.” He explained. “Sins like greed, or desire, or even hate.”

           “Mm-hm.” Reyn nodded. “Could I really sell one of them for a han’ful of copper?”

“I should think much more than that.” He replied gravely. “But if that’s your motive for seeking one out, you’ll never be able to find it.”

           “Mm.” Reyn agreed. “I was just thinkin’. Nard said we’re the sort of folk who’d sell unicorns. But I don’t think I will. Thank ya, Ol’ Priest.” She gave him back the hanky, and scrambled outside before he could say anything else. She really needed to get back home.

           She worked hard all day, and didn’t tell anyone about her talk with the Ol’ Priest. When it was bedtime, she went to her bunk bed as usual, but she didn’t go to sleep at all. Even when her many older and younger siblings and her parents were all quiet and asleep, even then she stayed awake.

           When the moonlight outside was bright enough to filter through the paper window, Reyn finally got up and snuck out the wooden door. She made sure it was unlocked, so she could get back inside when she was done.

           Summer was just ending, so the night was warm. The moon over her head was almost a perfect circle. She didn’t have a bridle made of silver to give to the unicorn, but she did take a handful of oats from the stable and put it in her pocket. She wasn’t sure, but she hoped unicorns would like that sort of thing.

The woods’ darkness was deep, and the path was uncertain in the treacherous moonlight. Bright eyes and little noises stirred ominously around Reyn. She shivered with fear, hurrying through the bushes. She only knew the path vaguely from expeditions to gather wild herbs, so she decided not to go much farther.

Reyn came to a clearing, one that she knew. There was a tiny pond and a white rock to sit on while she waited. So she sat on the rock and waited quietly. She wasn’t sure why, but it seemed right.

The clouds slipped by, the seconds slid away. It was dark, and quiet, with only a touch of a breeze. Reyn muffled a yawn, trying to stay perfectly quiet and still. She was very good at that, especially when she imagined that she was a little field mouse. She was furry and almost too small to see, with big ears and a tail kept tightly tucked in . . .

When she opened her eyes, she wasn’t sure if she was exactly asleep or awake. The rock she was sitting on seemed to glow in the moonlight. The pond mumbled little things to itself. The stars gazed off into the future, turning carefully to match what they saw. Reyn felt cold and numb. She wasn’t sure how long she had been sitting there, being a quiet little mouse. She felt like she had always been there and had just arrived all at once.

That was when the unicorn came. Between moonlight and darkness, waking and sleeping, dreaming and being alive. It was white, whiter than Reyn’s moss-speckled rock, and even whiter than the Ol’ Priest’s white collar. Ol’ Priest had said that its eyes were like lightning, but they were more like a deep, endless pool to Reyn. It had very delicate feet, more like black flowers made of stone than the wind. As far as Reyn could tell, the Ol’ Priest didn’t know a lot about unicorns.

It had one, long horn of course. It was smooth and clear, like glass, only with little rainbows shimmering in it. Reyn knew what glass was because the church had one little stained-glass window, and she saw it every Sunday. But the unicorn’s horn had even more colours than the window.

The creature was unearthly, but Reyn didn’t know words like that. Without even knowing how foolish she was being, she wordlessly offered the pure creature a handful of oats. As graceful as an angel, the white being picked its way to her on feet lighter than a thought. Tickling Reyn’s hand with its wet nose, it nibbled on the oats thoughtfully, touched its horn to Reyn’s forehead, then gently flitted away.

Its white form vanished into the night, and never returned. Reyn just stared after it, barely believing herself that it had really come. But the oats were gone, and the world was dull again, rather than white and shimmering. She scratched her head, astounded.

“Wasn’t that somethin’?” She muttered. “Now wasn’t that a unicorn? That really, truly, was something.”

She slipped back through the woods, picking her way out by moonlight. Her quiet little cottage loomed out of the night, and she slid inside quietly, latching the door. Reyn paused for a moment now, listening, barely drawing in a breath.

It was silent. She assumed that meant everyone was still asleep. She curled back up in her bed beside her sisters, her heart still pounding with excitement. She would never tell a single soul about the silent mystery she had seen that night, gleaming like lightning. The protector of Cornswood was her secret, and so it remained for the rest of her life.

[underopenskies]

The Best Gift 2/2

((DUN DUN DUN! Here’s the promised event. Warning! There is descriptive birth in this! Don’t like, don’t read! Or skip to the end where shit’s not as gross. 8D It’s a direct continuation of the first post- so WOOP.

Art is by the fantastic @fontsandsins. Fonty draws the best babies. And boobies. >////> There’s a bonus picture at the end of the post for those who want to see it. It’s under the read more though. HEHEHE.))

Hamish's grip on the steering wheel tightened and he glanced quickly between Skylar and the road. "W-wait really? You mean it?" A slightly panicked but extremely excited look took over his face. He pushed the truck to move slightly faster.

“Mhm. Contractions have been regular since a little after we started dancing.”  She rubs her middle as he starts to go faster, and laughs softly. “Hamish, my love, th’ last contraction was over like… fifteen minutes ago.”

He shook his head. "We’ve got a long drive, I wanna get you home. I want to get you where you're comfortable." His mind flashed back to his dream, and his fist tightened over the steering wheel. He kept one hand on the steering wheel and reached the other across to smooth his fingers over Sky's belly. "Hi, Bella." He cooed. "Daddy can't wait to see you, just hold on until we're home for me sweetie." Please, please wait until they were home, he murmured to himself.

Skylar’s sockets closed as he talked to Bella. Their little girl responded as she always did, and kicked up against his hand, stretching her legs out and making Skylar grunt softly as she did so. “I’m comfortable wherever I’m with you,” She murmurs absently, “but I would like t’ be home. Don’t worry. Contractions are like… twenty minutes apart? Next ones should be like… four or five minutes from now.”

True to word, within a few minutes, the flesh under his fingers tightened, and Skylar, not worrying about hiding them, quietly groaned into his shoulder. “We’ve got, mmm, plenty of time…”

His brows furrowed, her soft groan making him tense under his jacket, but his expression was soft. "I don't wanna sound like an ass or anything… I'm just curious because, I'm never going to know what this feel like... but uh… what does it feel like…? I mean, like... everything… when she kicks, the contractions." His eyes watched the road. "What does it feel like when it's all… inside you?"

That was a very interesting question for him to ask. Skylar hummed softly, but didn’t seem particularly bothered by it as she rested against him, eyes closing. “You don’t sound like n’ ass, sugar. ‘S alright. Lets see… It depends on when she kicks. When she’s just shifting, it’s kind of like a weight moving around. Sort of like when someone shifts beside you in bed, but… y’know, inside of ya. When she kicks, it’s usually not too bad- sometimes like someone’s poking you, but from inside- but sometimes it can hurt. She’s out of space, so she doesn’t have a lot of room now- so mostly she just stretches to make more space.”

Like she did then. As the contraction ended, the flesh under his hand came alive with his daughter stretching out to reclaim the space that had tightened around her. A large foot pressed against his palm and remained there.

“That’s kinda like getting’ elbowed in th’ gut, but from th’ inside. It wasn’t as bad when she was little, but she’s a big girl now… Contractions… Well, Braxton Hicks were kinda like squeezes. Just little squeezes compared t’ the real thing. These are tight- I can feel it start in my lower back- it knots up there first, n’ then it starts to ripple up, from the bottom of my belly up t’ my belly button.” She blindly traces the line up her dress, and taps above her navel. “S’ kinda hot n’ hard, like getting’ the air forced out of you, and they’re getting stronger. I imagine they’re only gonna get stronger. They’re tolerable right now- a lot of my ache ‘s my back. Pretty sure I’m gonna have a back labor- so lots of back cramps.”

Hamish was quiet as his listened, his eyes on the road. His mouth curved up at her explanation. "Your body is incredible." He said, awe filling his tone.

She leaned up to kiss his cheek gently. “I know. N’ you helped make it this way.” She purred softly. “Soon, we’ll get t’ see th’ lil’ on that’s been growin’ in here. Elaine thinks she’s gonna be at least eight pounds, maybe eight and a half.”

Hamish laughed. "Jesus. It's gonna be like taking a bag of bricks off yer belly." He said patting Skylar's stomach. He moved his hand back to the gear stick and shifted the gears. He glanced down at the speedometer; he was creeping up to 125kph.

Skylar laughed, sockets peeking open slightly. They widened more as she spotted his speed, and she leaned upright just a bit. That was a little too fast, even for her. How was this truck even going this fast without dying? “Y’know,” she said, “F’ th’ cops catch y’ goin’ that fast, we’re gonna be delayed a whole lot longer if you get pulled over, Haz.”

He groaned slightly and eased his foot off the gas. "I just…" He pouted. "I wanna be able to get home… and hold you and help you thought this."

“I know, sugar, I know.” She settles her hand on his thigh and rubs it soothingly. “But this trucks old- n’ tha’s not a speed I thought this rig could get up to. What if it broke down? We’d be stuck out here until someone could come get us.” And at the speed he was going, they’d already covered… Well, a lot of distance.

A hell of a lot of distance, actually. Skylar sighs softly, and nuzzles back down into his shoulder.

He let out a deep breath, gripping the steering wheel. He was starting to stress slightly but was visibly trying to hide it. He tapped his fingers on the wheel, glancing at Skylar each time a contraction seemed to hit. For the most part, he managed to keep his mind from flashing back to his nightmare. He knew exactly what would happen if… if the truck broke down. But Hamish had taken time to fix the truck up. Skylar had said it was running better than she had ever seen it run- and he had speed tested it too. He was hopeful that it would hold.

She rested against his side, nesting her face against his shoulder and quietly breathing against his shoulder as she rode out the contractions. She kept a hand on his thigh- when contractions came, her fingers tightened over his leg, and held on for the duration of the time her womb held her in a snare of discomfort.

For the most part, Skylar labored quietly. She only made a couple noises of discomfort if they hit a bump during a contraction, or took a corner a little too sharply. For the most part, the tired mother dozed through her contractions, holding him and taking and giving what comfort she could in between them. She made small talk when she could, but was mostly quiet, resting, knowing she would need it.

However, as the hours passed, the contractions started to grow closer together. Twenty minutes became eighteen, eighteen became fifteen, and fifteen became twelve, and twelve became ten. The intervals between them began to shorten, and the duration of their length began to last longer.

They were finally not far from home- having made a long, long drive in nearly half the time thanks to Hamish’s lead foot- when Skylar stirred against his shoulder. They had just passed through the town that was about an hour out from their home. She shifted in her seat, sockets opening and a hand sliding along the side of her belly. She paused a second, blinking blearily as she felt something give behind her pelvic bone.

Some people described the breaking of one’s water as a trickle- some people described it as a drizzle. For Skylar, unfortunately, it was a flood. Glowing blue soaked the white of her dress. She swallowed, and reached down to check- yep, soaked, thoroughly. Her, the dress, and the seat of the truck- she’d managed to soak it quite well.

“Mmm…” She hums. “Hey, Haz? My, uh… My water just broke.”

Hamish jolted in his seat looking down at Skylar, his eyes wide. The mess in his truck was the last thing on his mind. He was getting them home. Now. He shifted the truck a few gears and began pushing it as hard as he could go; they were too far out of town, no cops came out this way unless they were called. Even if they did get pulled over, all he'd have to do would be to explain their situation, a cop car could probably get them home quicker than his truck.

Skylar didn’t even fuss at him this time as she watched the speedometer climb. She simply rubbed his thigh, and blocked the mess from traveling too far with her dress. However, with the release of the amniotic fluids cushioning Bella, the following contraction was likewise much less pleasant.

A soft groan escaped her, and she panted softly against his shoulder. Her hand patted his thigh, and she closed her sockets, ignoring the surroundings as they passed them by. Thankfully, no cops were out that late- being pulled over probably wouldn’t have been that good of a thing. “Ya doin’ good, Haz. Very good. I love ya a lot- n’ ya keepin’ calm ‘s helpin’ me a lot… Mm… I don’ even care that ya’ speedin’. Jus’ slow down when y’ get t’ the house, so ya don’ hit Elaine’s car.”

Hamish swallowed hard. He held his hand out so Skylar could hold it if she needed to; he could see the lights from his farm coming up in the distance. He licked his lips and took a shaky breath. "I love you Sky. Just keep breathing, babe."

“Love you too, Haz. And, hah, I am- breathin’ ‘s my favorite thing right now.” His fingers were taken, and she squeezed them tightly. She surely just needed to get used to them. She panted through it though, and once it passed, she relaxed against him, wishing she could bury her face fully against him, but knowing it was impossible not only because of their position, but because of her horns.

As Skylar’s sockets opened again, she spotted the farm house lights, and relief flooded her fully. She shifted eagerly in her seat. “Ah… Thank god, she’s still up,” She murmured. “Mm…” She gently freed his hand, knowing he needed to slow down, or start to, lest he slam to a stop last minute. She fiddled with the seatbelt, finding it growing uncomfortable around her belly. “Mmm… There’s home. Home sweet home.”

Hamish moved his hand back to the gear stick and shifted down a gear. He lifted his foot of the gas slowly easing the car from the 100's down to 50. He followed the fence line and spotted the gate to the property. "Ah- shit." He swore, coming to a stop, He left the truck running and the lights on but unclipped himself and threw the door open. He got himself out and hobbled to the gate in his boot, un-hooking the fence and shoving it open. He returned to the truck and pulled the door shut, not worrying about his seatbelt even when the truck protested as he drove through the gate and towards the house.

He pulled up, put the car in park and shut it off, pushing the door open and hobbling over to Skylar’s side.

The midwife, hearing the loud engine had come and opened the front door.

Hamish pulled open Skylar's door. "You okay?"

“I’m okay, yeah.” She eased around in her seat, and unclipped her seatbelt once the truck was parked for sure. Waiting while he’d had to go open the gate hadn’t been fun- the rumble of the truck’s stressed engine was not pleasant against her backside- but she was so ready to be out of the truck.

She eased her way out, and made a face at the mess that made it’s way to the ground outside. Her legs wobbled some as she caught her footing, having been bracing, but not standing, and having gone numb from how she’d been sitting. She clung slightly to Hamish while she tried to regain feeling in them. “Mm… well, not really. I ache, n’ I really, really want t’ change clothes. The stuff in the back of the truck can wait. I want to get inside please… I can walk if ya help- M’ legs fell asleep from sittin’ like that for so long.”

Skylar managed a tired wave to Elaine, before giving a thumbs up. “It’s finally time!” She calls out to her.

The midwife gave an excited clap. "Oh congratulations! Everything is nice and clean in here so you two are all good. You're sticking to the birth plan we talked about? You both are just going to do it all on your own and I just listen out for an emergency?"

Hamish held Skylar and walked with her slowly to the house, helping her up the small porch steps. "Sounds about right, right babe?"

Skylar took her time getting to the house. Fast steps wasn't fun, and neither was going too slow, going up the stairs was also not very fun- but she handled it with her husband's help, and made her way up. "That sounds perfect, sugar." She gave her a small smile, and made her way carefully into the house. "We'll definitely call you if there's an emergency, or I feel like there's somethin' wrong." She would feel something wrong first- Skylar trusted her body to know what to do, and to tell her if something was going wrong.

As they made their way inside, she shuffled awkwardly, and reached back to fiddle with the ties on the dress just a little inside the door. She kicked off her flats from the wedding- which were quite gross from the soaking they’d gotten in the truck- and worked on peeling her way out of the soaked dress, and removing the flower crown from her horns. "We both need t' get out of these, and I have no plans of dripping amniotic fluid all over th' floors t’ go do it in th’ bedroom." The floors did look freshly cleaned, after all. So she was about to be fairly naked out in the front room. Well, she had a bra and panties on- she’d take those off in the bedroom. Her panties were ruined- she was just going to toss those. Her bra could be tossed into the wash.

Elaine smiled to her. "Give me your dress sweetheart, I'll go soak it and see if I can get this stain out for you. It's such a beautiful dress."

Skylar used the soiled dress to dry off the insides of her thighs as best she could, knowing she probably needed to wash off but not wanting to make the trek to the other side of the house just yet, and then handed it over to the midwife with a thankful smile.

Hamish kicked of his own shoes, and then placed his hands on Skylar, rubbing her back gently. He kissed her shoulder and walked with her, easing her slowly and carefully toward their bedroom. Inside, he shrugged off his coat and tossed it in the corner; his shirt and pants joined it shortly.

Slowly and carefully was about the gist of how their walks were going to go- and she was glad that Hamish was patient with her. She was sore and tender- and going too fast made her ache. She shimmied out of her panties and bra while he went to get out of his coat and clothing, and that left her in the nude in the middle of their bedroom. Skylar managed to get the panties disposed of, and her bra tossed in with the dirty clothes, and back over to the bed before the next contraction came. She leaned over, bending at the waist with an uncomfortable moan, and rocked her hips quietly, waiting for it to pass as she leaned her elbows on the bed.

Skylar swayed in place, settling into a faint rhythm as she breathed her way through it. “Mm… Feels like th’ plastic cover ‘s on under th’ bed sheets. Good.” Sheets could be washed and cleaned- but there wasn’t a way to clean a mattress if it soaked through the sheets and blankets. Her water might have already broken, but little trickles kept leaking- births were messy, and labors were messy.

Hamish moved behind her, he paced his hands on her back and began to rub, pressing his thumbs firmly against the ecto flesh. He watched the way her body reacted and listened for any instructions from her.

As his thumbs pressed in along her spine, she nearly went weak at the knees. His thumbs rolled over knots in the ecto flesh, where the muscles in her lower back had coiled up and turned into painfully tight muscle spasms. A soft whimper left her- that hurt, but in a good way. Skylar rode it out patiently with his help, his touch helping to ground her. Once the contraction faded, she exhaled sharply, and shifted, moving to clamor up onto the bed without more prompting.

She lay carefully on her left side, tucking her pillow under her skull, and wiggled her fingers patiently in a motion for him to come join her. Skylar wanted him close- she’d wanted him close all day, and now wasn’t any different. The closer the better. One of the many extra pillows is tucked between her thighs to alleviate some of the pressure on her pelvis. “I wanna cuddle,” She says softly, eye lights focusing on him. “Jus’ wanna be held for a lil’ bit.”

Hamish crawled onto the bed with her and laid down, wrapping his arms around her, his warm ecto flesh pressing against hers. He massaged his hands over her belly, sides, back, arms, and thighs. Anywhere he could reach would be soothed and massaged.

Skylar relaxed more as he settled at her back, a soft, pleased sound as he rubbed and massaged. The massages helped to unwind the tensions from the day, and she relaxed and rested against him, simply enjoying his touch. She pressed back into him as much as she could, and basked in him.

The relaxing and just being in an environment where she felt comfortable and safe was doing wonders to help speed things along. Surrounded by him, and by the smell of them on their bed, did wonders to help aid in relaxing her. He was right in wanting to get her home where she’d feel comfortable and safe. It was also helping that he wasn’t stressing out in the truck anymore. It wasn’t much longer- maybe five minutes between the last one- before another contraction rolled through again, and she tensed, belly twitching as she fisted her fingers into the sheets. “Mmm… Just think,” She murmurs softly, “Soon, we’ll be able t’ hold our lil’ girl, n’ all this ‘ll be worth it. Heh- nn… What did y’ say earlier? Somethin’ about Bella decidin’ t’ be a weddin’ present?”

Hamish's mouth curled up. "Shit... cheeky little miss you are, did you plan this?" He cooed to Skylar’s belly, shifting to kiss it, his hands working to rub the knots from her muscles.

“I’m starting to wonder if she did.” She laughs just faintly, and groans softly as he kisses it. It’s rock hard under his lips, but his touch and voice makes their daughter kick. A kick during a contraction was a very unpleasant experience, and she exhales sharply. One of her hands comes up, and she takes a hold of one of her horns, simply holding it quietly to give her something to firmly grasp that she isn’t going to hurt, as she rides it out. When it fades, she relaxes, and rubs her fingers gently along her bellybutton. “At least, hah, she had th’ patience t’ wait until after th’ wedding and we didn’t have her makin’ her way out durin’ the vows.” She joked lightly. “Ah- that feels nice. Can you rub a little lower? Right above my pelvis? S’ real tight there.”

Hamish nodded and pressed his fingers into the instructed spot, moving them in slow circles.

Elaine knocked lightly on the door and opened it just a crack, so she didn't look in to give them their privacy. "Sweetheart do you mind if I come in a check your dilation?" She asked.

Skylar shifted as the door squeaked open, and glanced over to it. She tilted her skull up, and spotted the crack in the door as the midwife spoke. “Hm? Oh yeah- that’d be good. Please do- they’re starting to get closer together, n’ it’d be good t’ know how dilated I am.”

She disappeared for a moment and then reappeared, snapping rubber gloves onto her hand. "You look so comfortable, but could I get you to roll onto your back for me?"

“Mhm.” Laying on her back wasn’t nearly as comfortable, but she could. Skylar shifted, removing the pillow from between her thighs, and rolling over with little grace. She settled carefully on her back, stuffing another pillow behind her so she was slightly propped up, and kept herself pressed close to Hamish. Her legs parted, opening up and displaying her sore lips. Settling on her back wasn’t comfortable, like she figured, but it was necessary. “This good?”

"Perfect, now this isn't going to feel very nice, I'm sure your husband does a much better job." She winked playfully. "But if it really hurts, let me know and I'll stop." She leaned forward and eased her fingers inside Skylar, wriggling them around, searching for her cervix. She was quiet, just concentrating at first, and then she smiled. "I'd say you're about at five centimeters. I can feel her skull." She said pulled her fingers out and taking off the gloves.

It certainly wasn’t pleasant having the woman’s fingers wiggling around up inside of her- Hamish most definitely did a better job. She shot her husband a wink when the midwife wasn’t looking to let him know this, too. “It’s not too bad,” She says, “but it’s not fun. You can really feel her skull? I bet that feels so cool.” She smiles softly, and rubs a hand along her belly. “Only five centimeters dilated- we’ve got a while to go then. Mm…  Think we can check again ‘n an hour?”

The midwife nodded and left the room.

Hamish’s eyes had lit up. "She can feel her skull." He cooed. "She's right there." He pressed his lips against Skylar’s.

Skylar kissed him gently back in turn, and arched a brow at him with a wide smile. “She is,” she cooed back softly. “The next time she checks, we’ll have her bring in another pair of gloves, and you can feel our daughter’s skull too. If you want to, that is- I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to.”

Laying on her back was bringing another cramp though, and she shifted, trying to sit up so she could stretch her back a little bit- only to find herself stuck like a turtle on it’s back, as she always did when she laid on her back anymore. “I wanna change positions for a bit n’ stretch. But, uh… Help? I’m stuck.”

Hamish's face brightened. "You'd really let me feel her?" He asked his smile wide he sat up and tucked his arms under her, helping her sit up.

“Of course I would, Haz. You’re her daddy- I want ya t’ experience as much o’ this as ya wanna experience with me.” She nods once she’s up. Once she’s upright, she’s free to shift onto her hands and knees, and stretch her back some. She rocks her hips faintly, feeling the faint shift of Bella inside of her pelvis, and lets her body just stretch and relax as it needs to. She doesn’t, however, wander far from Hamish on the bed. She rubs her hand lightly over the bottom of her belly and chuckles. “I can feel her horns a little bit- they’re kinda rubbin’ already on th’ inside. S’ a really weird feelin’ without all th’ fluid t’ cushion them.”

He smiled, sitting back and just watching until she asked him to do something for her, even like this she was so beautiful.

For the most part, Skylar didn’t need much. She did get thirsty between contractions, and nibbled a little bit on some crackers that Elaine brought in, but otherwise she was content to stay on her hands and knees, and just rock between contractions.

They got closer and closer- from five minutes down to three, from three until two-

She wasn’t a loud laborer, instead softly groaning and leaning forward to rest her horns against whatever was in front of her. From time to time it was Hamish, if he was handing her something to drink, from time to time it was just pillows- other times there wasn’t anything. She rocked and panted her way through the next hour, as the contractions intensified and sped up.

By the time they were coming every two minutes or so, Skylar’s middle was sore, and she had to focus more on breathing through it, or whatever part of Hamish was touching her at the time in order to make her way through it. One could only take so many muscle cramps in a row before they would begin to get tender to the touch. She eased back in her position, and leaned into Hamish, a shuddering sigh escaping her. “They’re getting closer,” She says. “S’… two minutes now? Two minutes, and lasting for about a minute now I think.”

"That's good babe, you're doin’ so well, beautiful."

Their lovely midwife stuck her head in again. "Ready to check your dilation again?"

“Yes, please. Can ya bring in some extra gloves? Haz wants t’ feel too.” She nods her head towards her husband, and shifts to ease back onto her back again. She exhales softly, stuffs a load of pillows behind her, and glances to Hamish with a tired smile. “Excited?” She inquires gently, smoothing a hand down from her chest to her belly. She lightly traced the few stretch marks that she had along the bottom of her belly, rubbing along what felt like Bella’s elbow as she shifted inside of her.

The midwife nodded and disappeared to fetch the gloves. Hamish nodded, snuggling against Skylar's side.

Elaine returned and repeated the same thing she had done before. She raised her brows and smiled. "Wow. You're definitely at seven, possibly going towards an eight. You're doing an amazing job for your first baby." She said then handed the second pair of gloves to Hamish after she had removed hers. "All you've gotta do is get your fingers right up to the back. You'll know it as soon as you feel it." She said, and then left the room again.

Hamish's cheeks turned red as he pulled on the gloves and shifted slightly. He smiled, figuring though all the pain she was going through he might at least try to make her feel good even if it was for a brief moment. He slid his gloved hands down and rubbed her clit gently. He dipped one finger inside, eased it out slowly then eased two inside. He thrust them in and out slowly, each time he pushed them in he eased them in a little deeper until he felt it; the rounded top of his daughters head. His eyebrows rose and tears pooled at the corners of his eye sockets.

Skylar definitely hadn’t expected to get fingered- but that didn’t stop the soft gasp that escaped her as he rubbed her clit gently, and eased one finger gently in and out of her slowly. The second finger had her walls fluttering lightly around him, a small bit of pleasure amidst the discomfort, and Skylar sighed softly, a tiny pleased sound between the many groans of soreness she’d been letting out.

She felt when his finger reached something solid though, and her hips shifted slightly against his hand. Skylar exhaled gently, and watched the tears beading in his eyes, and reached a hand up to gently cup his cheek, using her thumb to gently rub one of the beading teardrops away, before simply stroking her finger softly through his beard. “What does she feel like?” She asked softly. There was a twitch in her belly, and she hummed softly. “And, nn, don’t be alarmed- M’ gonna contract here soon- might feel tight on your hand. Jus’ don’ panic an’ move, n’ ya wont hurt me, okay?”

Hamish nodded and smiled. "She feels amazing, it's solid...but soft." He kept his fingers inside of Skylar, he was curious to feel her contraction and what her belly did. When Skylar’s body eventually contracted around his fingers, his eyes widened. "H-holy." The walls of her vagina clenched, and then opened up, and he could feel Bella inch herself further down.

Contracting around something was a very strange experience, and her legs tensed faintly, her breathing heavy as she exhaled through it. She could feel Bella inch her way down some, feeling the scrape of her little horns moving inside of her. Oh yeah- those were going to be fun. “Mm… Solid but soft sounds about right.” When the contraction faded off, she relaxed, panting softly, and rubbed her belly. “Hhh… If you, mm, feel around the edges? You might be able to feel her horns.”

Hamish's face was still flushed bright red. He rubbed his fingers gently around the small skull peeking out of Skylar's cervix. “I can feel little bumps… but they’re still inside." He said, he slowly eased his fingers out and pulled the glove off then leaned forward and kissed Skylar. "I love you so, so much. Do you need anything?"

As he eased his fingers out, Skylar shifted her hips slightly, and nodded. “Mm… Yeah, I do. I’d kinda like t’ go take a bath, I think. I’m… at seven or close to eight she said? That’s… more than enough to enjoy a bath, I think. Maybe walk around th’ house a lil’ bit while th’ bath is fillin’ up. Tha’ sound okay with you?”

Hamish nodded, he stood himself up and stretched, and then helped Skylar so she was sitting on the edge of the bed so from there she could chose what she wanted to do, before going off to run her a bath. He crouched down and put the plug in then turned the water on, keeping an eye on the temperature as the water filled.

While he went to run her a bath, Skylar got to her feet, and stepped out of the bedroom. She brought the package of unfinished crackers to the kitchen, along with the glasses of water she’d been steadily emptying, and nibbled a few more as she heard him get the water going. She swayed a little in place, before rolling the crackers and putting them away, and then pacing. The tub would take some time to fill- it always did. So she walked.

She waddled quietly through the house, stopping and bracing quietly on the walls whenever she would contract. She’d breathe through it, and then resume walking, pacing from one end of the house to the other until she spotted the tub being closer to full between the times she waddled past the bathroom door.

Skylar didn’t go in immediately- she took a detour, and stole a couple cushions off the couch, before heading into the bathroom. She tucked the pillows under one arm, and arched a brow at him lightly, leaning gingerly on the doorframe. “Should you be sittin’ like that with your leg?” She inquired. “I brought pillows- Y’ don’t need t’ be sittin’ on th’ bare floor, n’ there ain’t enough room for a chair in here.”

Hamish smiled sheepishly. “Probably not… it's more comfortable than bending over though.” He stood up and shut off the water. "It's nice and warm.” He said, wiping his wet hands on a towel. He stepped aside to give Skylar some room.

“Then th’ pillows will help keep you leg from hurting you later. And thank you, sweetheart.” She padded over, and plopped the thick pillows on the floor for him, and then paused to lean up and give him a kiss. Her middle contracted again, and her hands came up to clutch onto him, fisting into his shirt, and she didn’t have the chance to tuck her head away like she usually did. She ducked her head down and under his chin, trapping his neck firmly between her horns as she moaned into his shirt. Her middle flexed as it pressed against his own, gravity forcing Bella down further into her pelvis. “H-hhh…”

Hamish grunted slightly but smiled, rubbing her back. "Easy Sky, I know you’re in pain but there is no need to try an’ choke me." He laughed.

“Coul’ make a bad joke about you being the one that did this t’ me, like they do ‘n the television dramas.” She choked out a faint joke, but didn’t move until the contraction ended. Once it did, she eased her head down, sliding her forehead down his chest to unlock her horns from where they’d slid around his neck. “S-sorry sugar.” Her hands came up, rubbing gently over where her horns had brushed him. Thankfully, unlike her brothers, the curve of her horns was broad and wide- hers were more wide set on her skull- so they’d only curled around his neck. Might have chaffed lightly over the bones, but she hadn’t done any damage. She let out a shaky sigh, her voice slightly trembling. “That was a rough one. Ah… I need t’ get in th’ tub now. Bella is, ah, moving down a bit.”

There was an uncomfortable pressure building up in her pelvis, and her legs bowed faintly under the sensation.

Hamish held her arms and helped her into the tub and helps ease her to sit down. Once Skylar was in, he lowered himself onto the pillows and sat at the edge of the tub. He reached in, cupping water in his hands and letting it trickle over Skylar’s belly. "Does that feel better?"

The heat of the water felt good over her bones, and the trickle of heat over her belly helped some. She let her arms drape lightly over the side of the tub, having settled slightly curled on her side, and flinched, another contraction flooding over her. Hers were going to piggyback it looked like- she might not get much of a break between them. “Mm… y-yeah… This ‘s better. The heat helps. I’m… Pretty sure this ‘s transitioning.” She was pretty sure he remembered what the term meant, but she needed him to stay calm, and help her stay calm. “It means- hah- the contractions are gonna come closer n’ harder.”

Focusing on words was hard, Skylar noticed, her eyes closing as she focused on the feeling of the water rolling over her middle, and the sound of his voice. One of her hands found his arm, and she simply held him, while her skull settled on her forearm. “Mmm…”

Hamish swallowed hard. He was nervous, but for Skylar’s sake he took a deep breath and rubbed his fingers over the hand that held onto his arm. "You're doing good, Sky." He kissed her hand. "Let Bella move right down there."

She nodded against her arm, breathing softly. Her eyes slide open again, and slip up to lock with his, half lidded and mostly tired. “Jus’ keep talkin’ please.” She murmurs. “S’ nice. Love your voice.” She whispers. As her focus fades in and out with the coming and going of the contractions, her eyes dim and brighten- but they remain focused on him.

She shivers in the water, but doesn’t fuss about it. It’s something she knows is part of it labor- she feels a brief flash of queasiness too, but it doesn’t stay long, instead replaced with trembles that make her fingers shake against his arm. Still, she powers through it, riding it out as she listens to him and watches, focusing on him, and on her body as it finishes it’s last minute preparations to bring their little girl into the world.

Hamish smiled at her. He sat by the tub watching her and talking to her softly, words of love, encouragement, and of how proud he is of how she's doing. He rubbed her arm as she trembled, keeping his eyes locked on hers.

The transitioning stage lasted for a little over forty-five minutes- forty five minute of near continual contractions and cramps, where the skeleton didn’t say a whole lot, refused any sips of water, and simply listened to him and clung to him- and then as quick as it hit, it was gone. As the contraction faded off, Skylar was given the chance to relax for the first time in what felt like forever. Her middle softened, and her eyes focused, light coming back to them as she panted and caught her breath.

The tight grip she had on his arm eased, and her thumb rubbed over his radius, a soft gentle touch that was fully conscious.

“Mm… Hey,” she smiled softly, tiredly, eye lights soft and exhausted. She stretched a little in the tub, having only done the bare minimum of shifting positions while she had been lost in transitioning.

He returned her smile. "You doing okay, Mama?" He asked, going back to trickling water over her belly. She looked a little better than she had been for the last few minutes.

“Mhm.” She nods tiredly, and rubs his arm gently. “Tired. Really tired.” She blinks slowly up at him, smile still on her face. “But better than before. Transition’s over- I should be fully dilated now.” She shifted as he trickled water over her belly, and laughed as Bella kicked just slightly. She rubbed dropped a hand down to rub her middle, and chuckled. “Mm… I wanna move though. M’ butt kinda fell asleep sitting like this. Guess I didn’t wanna move. I kinda remember focusing on you, and then I just sorta zoned…”

She shifted, arms trembling slightly as she worked to sit up and get onto her knees. Skylar wasn’t lying when said she was tired- She’d technically been in early labor since the morning of the wedding, and she had no idea what time it was, or if it was even still the day of the wedding, or if they’d reached the morning of the next day. “Mm… Any idea what time it is?”

He looked up, there was a bathroom window high up on the wall and it was pitch black outside. "Late." He chuckled, rubbing her back. "I'll check the time quickly, you just keep breathing." He said. He stood himself up and dried his hands then stepped out of the bathroom and checked the time on the clock in the kitchen before returning to Skylar. "It's 2:30." He laughed. He felt like he should be more tired than he was, however the excitement of meeting his baby girl was keeping him wide awake.

“2:30?” She laughed. “Wow. Time flies when you’re in labor.” Skylar managed to get herself upright by the time he’d gotten back, and got herself shifted around to face the back of the tub. As she shifted upright, however, she felt Bella shift, and parted her legs in response with a soft gasp. A heavy feeling- the intense need to push- hit her as gravity helped their little girl press down, and Skylar’s hands held tight to the edge of the tub. She leaned forwards, backside lifting slightly out of the water, and she grunted harshly, middle flexing as Skylar bore down. She could feel Bella sliding a little bit- slowly, so slowly, with her horns scraping so, so painfully along her insides. “Bella’s done waiting.” She grits out, informing Hamish as quickly and as simply as she could that their baby was coming soon.

Her horns make a loud noise on the porcelain as she lets her head come to rest heavily against the rim of the tub.

"She's coming?!" He grinned sitting himself back down on the floor to be able to rub Skylar’s back and keep an eye out for their daughter.

“She is.” She groaned. “Was hopin’ for a few more minutes o’ rest- but nope.” One of her hands slid down, and she brushed a finger gently over herself, quietly dipping her middle finger in. It was hard to reach around her middle however, though, and she cursed softly. “Fuck-” the curse slipped out without her meaning to- the horns stung something awful, and she blushed brightly upon realizing she’d blurted it, “I can’t reach around m’ belly. Can y’ see alright t’ play catcher, Haz?”

"I got her, don't worry Sky. You just work on bringing her into the world." He dipped his hands into the water while he waited, watching for the sight of his daughter crowning.

She nodded, trusting him to handle their daughter.

Skylar instead focused on bringing her into the world. With her upright angle, gravity helped keep Bella from sliding back. So, Skylar just had to take it slow. She wanted to rush- wanted it to be over and done with so her little girl could be out in the world with them now- but she could feel that Bella was a lot bigger than anticipated.

So Skylar took her time. She pushed, working slowly, and taking her time to carefully rock her hips any time it felt like her horns were going to get snagged inside of her. She kept a tight grip on the tub as Bella’s head worked her way down inside of her, and swayed from time to time.

It didn’t take long before her lips began to bulge however, and a blue slick covered skull appeared, peeking out between the folds. Skylar’s teeth ground together and her hips swayed softly, rocking lightly above the water.

“Ow,” She hisses softly, legs tensing. “Ow, ow… Oh, god that burns.”

Each slow push worked her wider around the skull, which eased its way out. As she reached the point where the horns worked their way out, Skylar counted up to three, and pushed hard.

Skylar will admit that the only time she cried out, during the entirety of her labor, was when the horns emerged, followed shortly by the rest of their baby’s skull, and she had to take a moment to rest as their daughter’s head was brought into the world. The rest of her body was still lodged in her pelvis, massive and heavy and waiting to be brought out, but Skylar had to take a moment to catch her breath.

Hamish watched in amazement at the sight of his daughter’s head appearing from Skylar. He'd seen plenty of animals give birth, so he roughly knew what to expect. But this was his baby, and it made it so much more special. He reached into the water, cupping her tiny head all the while encouraging Skylar, pure excitement in his voice

Her body still worked through, easing Bella out in small increments, working one shoulder out slowly as Skylar caught her breath. Once Skylar was good to go, she tightened her grip, and resumed.

He shifted so he could add his second hand in the water as his wife resumed pushing. Bella was coming out pretty fast.

It only took three pushes to free her shoulder- and two to free the second shoulder. Her lower body was eased out of her easily, and then Skylar felt legitimately lighter as her daughter fell free along with a gush of fluid that flooded the water into a murky blue color. She turned around in her spot, careful not to tug on the cord still connecting her to her daughter, and gave Hamish an exhausted but triumphant smile as she folded her hands over her deflated, but still swollen belly.

When she finally slipped free, Hamish slowly guided her out of the water, laying her in his hand belly down so he could use his other hand to pat her back. Little Bella coughed, getting water and fluids out of her throat and then her little, but very loud cry filled the room.

He laughed and looked up at Skylar. "Sky, she's beautiful. You did so good, I love you so much Sky." He continued patting Bella's back to make sure she had all the fluids out of her throat before he turned her around so he could get a look at her face. "She's your clone Sky." He grinned.

The ruddy flush to their wailing infants face was definitely not all hers, but she gave him a bemused smile. “She’s got your colors,” She panted tiredly, motioning to the reddish brown color of her ecto body, and the cord that faded to blue as it connected them. Skylar reached out and brushed a finger across one of Bella’s cheeks, and smiled. “She doesn’t have my freckles- but she’s got my horns! She’s so beautiful, Haz.” Her fingers trailed up to the painful short and stout little nubs she had. Two weeks prior, and they might have been a lot smaller and easier to pass- but now, Skylar felt raw inside, scraped and battered. She rubbed them gently, and smiled softly. “She’s perfect.”

She shivered slightly, breasts tingling in response to her daughter’s wailing and beginning to leak again. No matter- she was already in the tub. Part of her wanted to take her into her arms and hold her, to let her nurse for the first time- but she’d carried her inside her body for forty two weeks- it was time for Hamish to get to hold his little girl, if only for a few moments to start. Skylar also didn’t want to demand.

Hearing the baby's wails, Elaine stepped into the bathroom and smiled. "Oh, good job sweetheart.” She had a clip and scissors for the umbilical chord with her. She helped Hamish with the clip, and let him cut the chord. She left them alone in the bathroom. With the chord cut, Hamish could sit down more comfortably, pressing Bella against his bare chest. He smiled down at her, gently patting her bum as she cried.

Without being tethered to her baby, Skylar was free to sit up and move a little bit. She still had a placenta to pass, so she didn’t want to go too far- so she had no intentions of leaving the tub yet. She could feel her body cramping lightly, preparing to pass it. Still, she leaned against the side, and gently reached out to hold her little hand, warm tears beading in her eyes. “Bella Parker,” she whispered softly, “Welcome to your new home. Heh… We did it, Hamish. We did it.”

Bella's cried didn't die down. As much as he wanted to hold her, he knew it was mommy she wanted. He sat up and held her out towards Skylar. "I think she wants the goods." He chuckled.

“She probably does.” Skylar chuckled. She reached out to take her, carefully gathering her into her arms. She reclined back in the tub, balancing her gently on the soft bulge of her belly, before beginning to fiddle with her breast and her baby.

It took a couple of tries- lots of awkward positioning because her breasts were so heavy and she had to hold them and Bella, and her arms were very, very tired- but soon Bella latched on, and her crying quieted. As she sucked, Skylar’s abdomen worked, and began to ease her placenta out. She just let that do it’s thing, helping it along with a few gentle pushes, until it joined her in the tub.

Hamish watched his daughter feed, smiling at the noises she made as she suckled. He rubbed his hand over his skull, cupping the water and tipping it over her, giving her, her first bath while she had her first feed. He glanced at the placenta briefly but kept his focus on his girls.

Skylar lightly nudged the placenta, and booted it down to the other end of the tub while Hamish gave their daughter her first bath. She helped as best she could, rubbing off bits of gross and things that were trying to dry to her as Hamish tipped water on her. The water didn’t seem to bother Bella in the slightest, thankfully.

The baby drank until her belly was full, bulging outwards with her first meal, and then squirmed faintly until Skylar shifted her to lay flat against her chest, between her breasts, where she could listen to Skylar’s soul.

Skylar sighed softly, and glanced up to Hamish once Bella was clean. “Why don’t you take her, Haz? I think I’m ready to get out- I want to go lay down, all three of us- and I don’t want to drop her.” Skylar wasn’t entirely sure her legs could hold her own weight- and she wasn’t going to trust that she wouldn’t drop their daughter if her legs gave out. She wanted to try on her own first, before she asked for help though.

Hamish reached out and took Bella into his arms, picking one of the hanging towels and messily wrapping her in it he rubbed her back, standing to keep an eye on Skylar to make sure she wouldn't need his help.

Skylar managed to get out of the tub, and got it drained. Her legs shook, however, and she dribbled blood down the inside of her leg as she stepped out of the water. She stepped over to the medicine cabinet, and grabbed a pad from a package that Elaine had bought for this specific reason. The pad resembled one for her period- but for a much heavier flow. Women always bled after giving birth- it was one of the sad facts of life.

She waved it at him lightly, so he would see it and not panic as much about the stream of blood steadily making its way down the inside of her thigh, and began to hobble for the bedroom, not quite bothering that she was making a mess of the floors. Floors could be mopped- she’d just pushed what was obviously much more than an eight-pound baby out of her vagina.

Skylar kept close to the walls, using them to brace as she stubbornly made her way to the bedroom. Walking was pain, and she vowed not to do it again unless she had to pee anytime soon. Once she was in the bedroom, she slid the pad into a pair of panties, and slid them on, and then eased into bed once more. She then wiggled her fingers for Bella and Hamish, wanting both her baby and her husband.

Hamish followed Skylar to the room, shadowing her with obvious worry as he watched the blood trickle down her leg. It didn’t look like nearly as much blood as his nightmare… but it was still blood, and it still made him nervous.

The midwife stuck her head out from the kitchen, watching Skylar with a critical eye as she passed. When Hamish passed, she chuckled. "Don't you two worry about anything, I'll get all this mess cleaned up for you."

Hamish smiled gratefully. "You've been so amazing for us. Thank you." He said, and then walked to the bedroom.

Bella squirmed and let out a cry. He glanced around and spotted the diapers they had ready; he laid her on the bed and picked one up.

Okay, he could do this. He held the diaper up and then opened it up; he looked down at Bella while he worked out which part of the diaper was the 'butt' and then held her ankles gently, pulling them up just enough to lift her bum off the bed so he could slip the diaper underneath. He let her but back down and folded the front over to cover up her crotch, he held it in place while he found the bits of tape and pulled them over, taping the diaper up. He did it, probably not the best job ever, but he did it.

Skylar watched Hamish do his first diaper on his own, and smiled tiredly. “Good job,” she praised softly. “You did pretty good- I did my one entirely backwards, so ya got me beat.” She teases softly.

Bella squirms softly in her new diaper, and opens her mouth again, beginning to wail once more.

Skylar shifts, and leans up, holding her arms out. She was getting strong urges to hold her close and keep her close- she’d just had her after all- and listening to her cry was something she’d have to get used to. “C’n I hold her while y’ find her first lil’ outfit?”

He nodded and laid Bella on Skylar's chest, before he got her an outfit though he left the room and found his phone, calling Vera's home phone number.

Bella continued to cry, even as she was settled on Skylar’s chest, and Skylar bounced her gently, humming a soft tune to try and soothe her.

The phone rang a few times, before a very groggy voice picked up. “Hullo?” It was Adam. “Hamish? Th’ hell- why y’ callin at… 3:20 in th’ mornin’?”

Hamish laughed. "You wanna hear something cool?" He asked and turned walking into the bedroom, crawling onto the bed and holding the phone next to Bella, letting her cry into the phone. He put the phone on speaker so he and Skylar would be able to hear Adam still.

“If it’s you havin’ sex with m’ sister, then no, I don’t.” It took Adam a moment, however, to realize that it was not, in fact, various sexual noises he was hearing, but the wailing of a baby. “Is… Is that what I think it is?”

Skylar laughed softly, and rubbed Bella’s little back as she wailed again. “Yeah. That’s your niece- Adam, Bella’s here.”

Adam sniffled for a moment, before the big man went quiet. There was a click on the other end, as he put his end on speaker- and then the house on the other end exploded into life as people woke up. Apparently, everyone had been camping in the living room- and Adam had woken everyone up with letting Bella cry.

Skylar glanced up to Hamish, looking beyond exhausted and probably in the worst shape he’d ever seen her- but she looked happy and proud, with a certain glow about her that outshone the haggard look that childbirth had given her.

Over the phone, the ruckus died down some when the phone itself was snatched up and stolen. Vera’s voice floated through. “Is that my grandbaby?”

Hamish kissed Skylar’s skull and laughed. "Yeah Vera, she's here… And she's so beautiful. Skylar did such and amazing job." He said, his voice was full of love for Skylar and his new baby. "Say Hi to grandma." Hamish said. In response Vera got a hiccupped breath and another wail from Bella.

Vera’s usually steady voice wavered, and she gave a soft sniffle and a choked hiccup. The ruckus on the other end went quiet, and there was a concerned murmured voice of one of the boys. “I’m fine, I’m fine. S’ not often y’ get t’ be a grandma for th’ first time.” She waves off her sons concern. “She sounds beautiful, Hamish. She sounds absolutely beautiful. I’m sure she did amazing. How do you feel, Sky?”

“M’ really, really sore, and I feel like I never wanna walk again.” She laughs softly. “Tired too. But happy. Also, horns suck, n’ I’m so sorry I laughed at ya when y’ complained about havin' t' push out mine.”

Vera chuckled. “I told you what comes around goes around, baby girl. When can we visit?”

Skylar glanced up to Hamish. She’d kind of like a day to recover, but knowing her family, they’d probably be driving over that night if they gave them permission.

Hamish smiled at Sky. "It's up to you babe. If you need a day, I'm sure they won’t mind." He rubbed little Bella’s skull.

Skylar sucked in a quiet breath, and rubbed Bella’s back. Her wailing began to subside as she tired herself out, and settled down into fussy whimpering. “I’d like a day to just rest n’ spend some time with Haz n’ my baby, but I understand if you guys want to come up now.” She says.

Vera hums contemplatively, and nods. “We’ll leave tomorrow then.” She says. “We still need t’ clean up from the wedding- that’ll give you th’ day with your baby, and to rest up. You’re strong, but you’re not invincible, and you don’t want to hurt yourself or stress your body after everything. Rest, and we’ll see you soon.”

Skylar sighs in soft relief, and nods. “Thank you, Ma.”

"I'm gonna hang up now Vera, sorry if we woke you all… just wanted little Bella to say hello." He smiled. "See you later." He concluded then hung up the phone. He put it on the side table and rolled over, wrapping his arm around Skylar.

Skylar shifted and cuddled up next to him, nestling closer with her skull. She shifted, and lifted the covers up to cover her and Bella, shivering just a little bit as her body began to wind down. As his arm looped over her middle, she hummed as it pressed down on her belly. It felt weird now, empty and soft, and severely deflated- and looked weird too. Her uterus was starting to harden up though as it shrank. Oh well. “Mm… I love you…” She murmured softly. “Heh… Married and a baby in less than twenty four hours.”

Hamish chuckled and looked down at his new little family. If he thought back through his whole life... he had some days that before now he would have said where the best days of his life. Today, topped all of those days x10. No other day could compared to how amazing today had been.

He chuckled to himself, and then gave Skylar’s belly a soft rub. "One down, seven to go?" He smirked.

“One down, seven to go.” She laughed softly, and snuggled up to him with a tired hum. “Mmm… Heh. You’re a husband and a dad all ‘n the span of a day or so. How do ya feel?”

"I feel amazing, Sky. You've made me such a happy man that I can't even express just how happy I am." He flushed, looking down at their tiny daughter, her little hands balled into fists rubbing at her face, her eyes scrunched shut, her legs tucking up and then kicking out suddenly, getting use to not being balled up in the tiny womb space.

“You made me happy too, Haz.” She smiled softly. “My body might not be feeling amazing, but my soul does.” Her hand gently rubs along one of her horns, stroking soothingly along the base like she used to do with Greg when he had been a fussy infant.

She winks up at Hamish, casually teaching him a trick to soothing horned infants as she does so. The scrunched look to her brows eases some for Skylar’s efforts, and Skylar sighs softly. “I love you so much… Both of you.”

Hamish watched Skylar and the relaxed look on their babies face; he smiled then leaned in to give Skylar a proper kiss. "I love you too." He responded.

She smiled and nuzzled into him affectionately, love and happiness radiating from her. She nuzzled her head gently up against his shoulder, and her breathing began to slow. “M’tired, Haz…” She eventually murmured, the events of the day beginning to catch up to her. “Y’ gonna be alright ‘f I rest?”

Hamish nodded. "You sleep, you've worked so hard today." He kissed her skull. He looked down at little Bella. She had fallen asleep too, her body twitched slightly in her sleep.

“We both did… You should rest too.” Skylar nodded, and leaned into his touch with a sleepy sound. It didn’t take too long before Skylar was asleep, softly breathing with a baby settled in the valley between her bare breasts. Her head was angled tiredly towards Hamish, and puffing soft tufts of air lightly over his shoulder.

Hamish chuckled. Hamish nodded off, but it was light a switch had been flicked in his mind. Every time Bella moved or stretched out and touched him with her feet or hands, he woke up, he laid and watched her until he fell back asleep again.

Skylar slept soundly, stirring only when Bella woke and needed to be fed, or when Hamish got up to use the bathroom. Eventually, however, she found herself needing the same thing, and stirred under her infant, cracking open her sockets tiredly as she moved some on the bed.

Hamish jolted awake. "Huh?" He rubbed his eyes and looked over at Skylar. "You okay?" He mumbled sleepily.

Skylar hadn't meant to jolt him awake. But it was probably for the best. He would need to hold Bella while she got up. "I didn't mean to wake you." She still sounded tired, but a little less than before. "I need t' pee n' change my pad... Maybe go see about getting something for us both t' eat too. Can you take Bella?"

Hamish seemed a little loopy for a moment, before his sleepiness wore off and he became more alert. "Mmn yeah, I got her." he said, lifting her onto his chest, rubbing her back when she started fussing, not liking being moved from her warm spot.

"Remember, horns are th' sweet spot." She wiggled a finger towards her own to remind him, and then carefully sat up. She felt lighter, and it was weird not having to exert as much force to haul herself upright. Her sense of balance was still off. Sitting wasn't fun, and she was tender down below, but Skylar managed to haul herself upright, gritting her teeth against the sharp sting that it brought. She shuffled to the closet and stole one of Hamish's shirts- amused that she fit in them once more even if it wasn't perfectly like she used to- before making a slow and painful shuffle for the bathroom at the other end of the house.

Bella sniffled on his chest, tiny face scrunching and little fists curling as she fussed and huffed, expressing her distaste at being moved while she slept. Her little brow furrowed soon and she grunted softly, making a small face as she made her first bowel movement into her first diaper.

Hamish watched Skylar shuffle towards the bathroom then turned his attention back to his baby. He was confused for a moment, but then realization hit and he smiled. "Good girl." He cooed. He rubbed her skull, thumb brushing gently over her little horns. He would change her when Sky returned. A dirty diaper wasn't a pretty sight, but this was her first dirty diaper...and it was gross, but there was still something special about it.

Skylar took a little bit to get to the bathroom, waving at Elaine as she went. She relieved herself once she got there, taking a moment to appreciate the fact that their amazing midwife had managed to get the tub spotless, and that there was no sign of mess anywhere. She really did a good job- and Skylar was pretty sure she’d be calling her again when she and Hamish decided to try for another baby.

She took a moment to look at herself in the mirror as she got her postpartum pad changed and her legs cleaned up. Skylar honestly still looked pregnant- but not to the same degree. But, given how big she’d gotten, she completely understood that. She ran a hand over her middle, feeling how hard her shrunken uterus had become, and sighed with amusement, before hiding it with Hamish’s shirt. It was going to take a while to get back into shape- a shape that wasn’t round, of course.

The new mother made the slow shuffle back to the bedroom, and waved to the midwife again, before ducking into the bedroom. They could bring Bella out with them for food- they did have a sling after all, and one of them could hold her. “Walking,” She informs her husband when she gets back, “Is a joke. I know I said I was gonna help ya with outside chores right after Bella came, but I didn’t account for her horns. Mm…” She paused, and took a good look at him, sprawled on the bed with their baby on his chest. She smiled, and leaned against the door. “Looks like she settled down for ya though. Told ya that ya were gonna be a good daddy.”

Hamish grinned. "Mmm, I'm pretty sure she just filled her diaper for us too." He said, patting her back, she looked a lot more relaxed and relieved after that.

“First poop is th’ fun poop.” She laughed. “Kinda like tar, n’ just about as hard t’ get off, too. Th’ scary poops come after that.” She hobbles over to the side table, and collects a diaper, and a package of wipes. She snags a changing pad too, and brings it to the end of the bed, and spreading it out to catch any other messes their little girl might make once the diaper comes off, before smiling at him. “Well, lets get her changed, mister daddy.”

Hamish sat up and shuffled to the end of the bed, laying her down. He bit his lip and looked up at Skylar. "I might need you to teach me. I don't know how to clean girly bits."

Sky quirked a cheeky grin at him, and leaned over to kiss his cheek in a reassuring manner. “Ain’t ever cleaned girl bits aside from my own, but I’m sure I can handle helping teach ya. Did ya want me t’ walk ya through how t’ do it, or have y’ watch how t’ clean them for th’ first time before y’ attempt next time?”

He moved to stand next to Sky. "I wanna help...but if I'm doing it all wrong please stop me." He laughed. He opened the tabs of her diaper and pulled it open slightly he bit his lip. Oh boy. He let out a nervous laugh.

Skylar laughed gently, and nudged his shoulder. “You’re gonna do fine. S’ pretty much like wipin’ boy butts when it comes t' cleaning up poops, but no sticks n’ stones pointin’ to the sky. But, y’ don’ wanna wipe th’ poop up towards her lady bits if you can help it. It can cause infections n’ all other sorts o’ un fun things- y’ wanna wipe away from her little girly bits, n’ keep them as clean as y’ can. So, wipe down towards her lil’ bottom, not up. And uh- jus’ be gentle with her. Y’ might get a lil’ frustrated. First poo’s kinda like tar- it don’ like t’ come off.”

He pulled a wet wipe out of the packet and lifted her lower half by her ankles and began wiping her. Skylar was right… it was like tar. He started with her little lady bits, making sure it was clean before moving down to her bottom where most of the poop was. Bella didn't like the wet wipes very much, letting out squeaky little cries as he cleaned her.

Skylar shifted some to lean on the bed, and reached up to rub her fingers along her daughter’s skull. “Oh, baby girl, it’s alright,” She crooned softly. She kept an eye on Hamish’s work, and nodded along lightly. She let her fuss though, knowing they’d need to get used to it, and offered comfort in other ways instead of just cheating and going for her little horns. “Heh. You’re doin’ good, Haz. She’s just fussin’ cause wet wipes feel weird. She’ll get used t’ them after a lil’ while.”

Hamish made sure he had gotten her all clean, and then wrapped the dirty diaper up in a small plastic bag and tossed it in the trashcan they had specifically for diapers. "Do you want to put the fresh one on her seeing as I got to do the first one?"

"I would like that." She beamed at him. Skylar shimmied over to take his place, and prepared the diaper to slip under her. With ease, she lifted her ankles, slipped the backside under her little bottom, and then carefully did up the front.

Once the diaper was in place, Skylar gently lifted her up to her chest, cradling tenderly, and pressed a soft kiss to the space between her horns. "There we go," she cooed. "Little miss Bella is all clean and good to go."

Hamish smiled. "We can dress her up pretty now, if you think she'd like that?" He suggested.

"She probably isn't gonna care all tha' much. But, it's gonna help t' keep her warmer." Skylar nods. "Plus s' good practice for us both. I'm out o' practice, and you ain't ever dressed a baby. Go ahead n' pick out her first outfit, love, n' we'll get her dressed up before we go get something t' eat."

He searched through the cloths they had bought for her. Less is more with newborns. Something that wasn't too much would be the best option to go for. He picked out a footed jumpsuit and held it up to get Skylar's approval.

Skylar nodded lightly, and gave him a soft smile. "That works perfectly, Haz. Go ahead and open it up, n' get it spread out, and we'll see how she does for her first time gettin' dressed."

Hamish stood up and laid it down on the bed by Skylar. "Alright little girl, lets see what you think of this."

Skylar eased her down gently, settling her carefully down, and then working her little legs in. "I'll get the legs- you get her little arms." Thankfully, most of the little onesies were ones that buttoned up the front.

Bella wanted none of it- and her little legs kicked out at Skylar, arms squirming fussily as her face scrunched grumpily.

Hamish chuckled and gently wrestled with her arms getting them into her sleeves. He cupped her head in his hands, rubbing her little horns. "Shhh, baby girl."

Bella sniffled faintly as Skylar finished getting her little legs tucked into the footed parts of the onesie. The touches to her horns did their job, and her fussing calmed before it could get too bad. Her little head turned loosely on her neck, mouth opening faintly, baring her toothless mouth as she gurgled softly.

Skylar got the buttons done up while Hamish occupied her, and then smiled at their newly clothed baby lying before them. "There we go," she cooed. " All dressed. Heh... Little cutie- you wanna carry her, Haz? She'll probably want to be fed soon... Speaking of, you can help if you want. Got an idea for that."

"I'd love to help." He said, smiling brightly. He cupped the back of her head and lifted her into his arms. "Goodness, you're a heavy girl." He laughed, rubbing her back and bum.

"She's definitely bigger than eight pounds." Skylar chuckles softly. "Probably closer to ten I'd say."

Bella settled in his arms with a quiet fuss, and curled her little fingers into his chest.

Skylar smiled, and motioned for him to follow. "Let's go get somethin' t' eat while we can. M' still tired, and you don't look like you slept very deeply, sweetheart."

Hamish followed Skylar. "I tried to sleep... heh, just, every time she fussed even the slightest bit it woke me an I couldn't sleep again until I knew she was okay." He shuffled into the kitchen. "I could use a coffee." He mumbled, kissing the top of Bella's skull.

"I'll get it made. That does explain why you jolted awake when I started to move around though." Skylar shuffled for the coffee pot, and prepared it easily, before flipping the switch so it would begin to brew. "Mmm... What do you want for... Lunch?" She squinted at the clock. "Late breakfast, early lunch."

Bella settled sleepily against his chest, not disturbed by the sounds of their talking as she slept and snoozed against him. Skin to skin was good for babies.

Hamish smiled. "Just something easy babe, don't strain yourself to cook for me." He continued patting Bella's bum, bouncing her slightly in his arms.

"Cooking isn't too hard. Now that I'm up and moving, walking isn't as bad." She still is walking funny- and not a good sort of funny- as she makes her way to the fridge to collect some eggs. Fried eggs would work. The protein would be needed. She didn't hear the midwife in the house, and wondered if the nice lady was out doing the outside chores for them. If she was, she was an awesome lady. Skylar shuffled to the stove, and got a pan, and set to frying up some eggs. "Now ask me to move around after we're laying down again, and I might​ kick you." She teases lightly.

Hamish laughed moved to pressing loving Kisses against Skylar, being mindful to aim Bella away from the stove. He kissed her neck and shoulder. "You're incredible." He mumbled.

"So are you." She tilts her head to the side, making sure to use her body to block Bella further from the popping of the eggs as they cook, and sighs softly at his kiss, a smile crawling up her freckled face. "So are you." She says again. "You were with me the whole time. You were great, Haz. I don't know if I could have done it without you."

He shifted Bella in his arms and placed a hand on Skylar's back. He watched Skylar cook.

Skylar leaned gently into his touch, and sighed softly. She still craved it, even if she'd already had Bella. As her middle brushed the stove slightly, she quietly hoped her after-baby body wouldn't bother him. She finished cooking up their eggs, and slid them into plates, before going to take them carefully over to the table. She set them down, along with silverware, and smiled over to him. "Foods ready, sweetheart. Ya gonna be okay t' hold her and eat?"

Hamish nodded. "Yeah, I'll be fine." He said, pulling a chair out and sitting down. He rested her against one shoulder so he had the other arm free to eat. "Mmn, I love your cooking Sky...even if it's just eggs. You always make them perfect." He said spooning a forkful into his mouth.

She flushed slightly, and gave him a smile. "You're sweet, Haz. You're not a bad cook yourself." She eased down into her own chair, and scooted into her seat. She set into her meal hungrily. She hadn't eaten much at the wedding the day prior, and after she'd only nibbled on crackers. The eggs were good though, and filling, and the hungry mother needed the protein. By the time the coffee pot went off, she was half way done with her eggs- she'd scarfed them down hilariously fast- and she got up to get him a cup so he could have it while he finished his, and then sat back down to finish her own after giving him his cup of coffee like he liked it.

Hamish thanked her and finished his eggs, and then took the cup, turning his head to the side so none of the coffee had a chance of spilling on Bella if any happened to drip down.

Bella slept on, blissfully unaware. She was used to these sounds, having heard them often from inside of the womb. These were usual sounds, if not at their usual times.

Skylar smiled softly, and finished her eggs as well. She paused before cleaning up, and leaned her chin on her palm, peering across the table at him. "You know," she says, "you look like a natural sittin' there with our baby girl. She's not even fussin'." She smiles. "Probably th' most beautiful sight I've ever seen." She chuckles softly, and then hauls herself up, and goes to collect dishes and clean them up while he finished his coffee. She was nursing- so what she ate, Bella ate. Coffee probably wasn't on the menu just yet.

Hamish blushed and tilted his head to look down at his little girl. She clutched at his shoulder making a small mumbling sound in her sleep. There was a small trail of dribble dripping from her lips, onto his shoulder. Her body jolted a little but she quickly settled back against him.

Skylar spotted the little jolt as she turned around from finishing dishes, and smiled. "She did that a little bit while we were sleeping. I think that means she's dreaming." She dried her fingers on a dishcloth, and padded closer to him, reaching out to rub his free shoulder gently. She leaned lightly on him, breasts against his shoulders, nuzzling her cheek to the top of his skull, and simply watched their baby drool on his bare chest.

Hamish smiled. "What do you think she dreams about?" He asked, watching as her face twisted and relaxed every so often.

"I really don't know." She smiled softly. "Probably milk at this point. Maybe colors. Maybe sounds, or sensations she remembers from inside me? She seemed to do well with kitchen noise, and listening to us talk. I think she likes your voice." She smiles. "Maybe she dreams about the stories you read to her."

The thoughts of his baby dreaming about his voice made his mouth curl up into a wide smile, he'd only spent a few hours with her but he already loved her so, so much.

She leaned down to kiss his cheek, and nuzzled the side of his face. "I see tha' lil' smile o' yours. I hope she smiles like you." She purrs.

Bella shifted on his chest, stirring faintly. Her mouth opened wider, and she nuzzled her face closer as she began to probe at his chest sleepily with a soft and toothless mouth. She left little trails of slobber as she searched instinctively for milk, smelling that her mother was close by.

Skylar laughed. "I think she's lookin' for milk again. That's what she did when she wanted t' nurse while we were resting. C'mon- we can go to the couch. I did say y' could help, yeah?"

Hamish stood up with her and headed to the couch. "Where do you want me?" he asked.

"Go ahead and sit down, 'n lemme hold her for just a moment. I'm gonna settle down and lean against your chest- ya can loop your arms around me, n' help me hold her. Or hold my breast in the right position for her- either or." She gave him a cheeky smile. "Ya got gentle hands- I don't mind whatever you want to do." He was also broad enough across the chest for this to work. That's why he was an amazing big spoon too. "You'll also get t' look down over my shoulder at her lil' mouth while she nurses. Closest thing to my perspective ya gonna get."

Hamish gently handed her to Skylar and then sat down, watching Skylar; he was excited. He doubted many dads's got to do something like this. This was something special, just for them.

Something special and just for them indeed. Skylar shifted gently, going slow with Bella in her arms, and carefully settled down, wiggling lightly between his legs. She declined against him, angling herself slightly so she could roll her head back over his left shoulder. She adjusted Bella in one arm, and unbuttoned the shirt she'd borrowed from her husband with one hand. As it peeled back, she balanced Bella first on her belly, rubbing her cheek as she glanced over to Hamish. "Alright- big choice time. You wanna hold Bella, or my boob?" She kind of figured he would want to hold Bella- and had no problem with that at all.

He wiggled his brow at her. "Can't I do both?" He asked, he wrapped his arm around Skylar to support Bella and draped the other arm over her shoulder hugging her closer to his chest but also allowing him to gently cup her breast, aiming the nipple towards Bella's mouth.

The wiggle of his brow made her laugh warmly, and she winked at him lightly. "I suppose you could." She wasn't going to make him do all the work, but she wasn't going to complain. Her arms still felt like spaghetti from how tightly they'd held onto the tub earlier that morning.

He watched his daughter. He could hear her taking in quick breaths through her nose, sounding like a little puppy sniffing for it's mother. He bit his lip and smiled, brushing Skylar's nipple against Bella's lips.

She watched as he gently teased Bella with her nipple, and smiled softly at her response.

That’s when his daughters mouth opened, her little hands grabbing excitedly at the air, her legs stretching out. He laughed and brought her closer watching, her take the entirety of Skylar's nipple into her mouth.

The entirety of her nipple being taken in had her sighing gently, relaxing against Hamish with a soft sound. Nursing was a bit uncomfortable- her nipples were tender and sensitive- but it felt good to get some of the pressure out of her breasts. As Bella's suckling kicked up, her little fists came up to grab and knead lightly at her breast. Skylar watched her little mouth working, drawing in little gulps of milk, and smiled wider still. "She's never going to be a hungry baby, that's for sure." She laughs softly, looping her arm gently over his so she can play with her little legs. Bella props her leg up on Skylar's other breast and prompts a small leak from her unused nipple.

Hamish watched his baby in awe; she was feeding so well, and he was so proud of her. "What do you think it tastes like now? Any different than before?" He asked. For some reason, vanilla ice cream was the first thought that came to mind, and he didn't know why. It hadn’t tasted like that before- but that had been pre-baby milk. Maybe post-baby milk tasted different?

Skylar gingerly shrugged one shoulder, careful not to dislodge her infant or disturb her. She shifted her hand, and reached for her unoccupied nipple- the leak that came forth wasn't much, and Bella's clothes had already soaked it up. But, Skylar gently worked her breast, gathered a little bit on her finger, and then cheekily offered it up to him. "You're welcome t' try it, sweetheart," she purred lightly, arching a brow at him warmly. "But I've got no idea. I don't remember what Ma's tasted like t' even guess what mine might taste like now tha’ Bella’s actually here."

His face turned red but he leaned forward, taking her finger into his mouth and licking it off. His brows furrowed. Well, defiantly not vanilla ice cream. "It tastes like, really...really watered down cows milk. Just about like last time." He decided was the best way to describe it. It didn't taste horrible...but it wasn't amazing like he had thought. Bella seemed happy enough though.

Skylar arched a brow, and then sampled it for herself. She blinked, and her brows furrowed too. "Huh. I guess it does taste like that. I wasn’t sure ‘f it would change, but I was kinda expecting it t’ change. It's... Definitely different. Well, so long as Bella's happy, that’s fine by me. At least we know what it tastes like now?" She wasn't particularly impressed. "Mmm... We might need t'... I dunno, store some of it or something. I've got a lot of it- and Bella isn't drinking a lot at one time." She wouldn't for a while yet. Skylar was well endowed- and we'll endowed meant larger storage capacity for milk. "Th' one the isnt draining into her lil' belly kinda hurts."

"I could call your mom, ask her if she can pick us up a breast pump on her way up here to save us a trip?" He suggested. His focus was back on his daughter, watching her little lips move and here eyes flutter as she drank.

"Mm... Yeah. I can hold out until tomorrow." She nods. "That'd be good." She shifts her skull and nuzzles gently into the side of his neck. She's gentle about the angle of her horns, like always, and hums softly as her fingers run gently along his arm where he cradled their daughter. "I might try t' just manually drain some o' the pressure if it gets t' be a lil' much before then. Heh... She's so cute... She's gonna end up with horns like mine, I think. Gonna wear lots of button up shirts."

Hamish chuckled. "Mmm I can't wait until she's big enough to fit into those little boots I found for her, and her little hat...we might have to drill holes for her horns through it."

"We definitely will." She chuckled. "If ya remind Ma durin' th' phone call, she'll bring some o' my baby pictures. Bella's horns look just like mine did when I was jus' born. Should give ya a rough estimate o' what t' expect from them as they grow. She's gonna poke holes in lots of things. When she gets big enough for a big girl Stetson, we'll have t' custom order it, just like I do mine."

Hamish smiled gently, rubbing his thumb over Bella's horns. "She's going to be so amazing Sky." He hummed.

Bella tilted her head into his touch as he rubbed her horns, her sucking pausing only briefly before she resumed with gusto.

Skylar smiled softly and nodded. “She’s going to be amazing,” She agreed gently. “I will admit- I just hope she gets your teeth for her first set, or my nipples are gonna pay come teething time.”

Hamish let out a soft chuckle.

Bella's little eyes fluttered open. She turned her head, letting go of Skylar’s nipple and blinked sleepily up at her parents. Her eyes were still adjusting to the light of the outside world, so she was very squinty.

Skylar ran her lips gently along Hamish’s neck, and lightly scraped her teeth over his neck. “You laugh now, but you get to deal with Bella chewing on you too if she gets my teeth for her first set.” She grins.

Bella opened her mouth and poked her little tongue in and out. She latched on to Skylar’s nipple again but only suckled for a little while before pulling away again. It seemed she had gotten to the point where she was full but was trying to keep suckling just because the breast was there.

“It looks like she’s full.” Skylar smiled softly. She nudged Hamish’s arm lightly, and glanced up at him as she shifted her arms to take Bella from him once he let her take their daughter and let her sit up. “Lets get her burped so she don’t get gas on her belly, n’ then she’ll settle right back t’ sleep, most likely. Heh… So, did you enjoy helpin’? Think ‘s somethin’ you’d like t’ do again?”

"That was beautiful, Sky. I'd love to do it again." He said, turning to kiss her.

She turned to meet his kiss, and leaned into it with a tender sound. Her lips worked gently against his, and her eye lights twinkled gently up at him. “Good. I’d love t’ have you help again. It felt nice- real nice.” Having him at her back with their baby at her breast had felt… intimate on a whole other level. It made her soul hum warmly in her chest. Skylar gently nuzzled her head to his, rubbing her forehead tenderly against the edge of his jaw for a moment, before she leaned up and adjusted Bella.

Their little girl was set up high over her shoulder, and Skylar began to pat her back gently, working upwards to encourage any air bubbles in her belly to go upwards. Thankfully, the shirt Skylar was wearing would catch anything Bella would spit up, and could just be tossed into the wash.

Hamish lent back in the chair, watching her face, a wide smile on his own. She looked confused. All of this feeding and burping was still new to her. Her eyes had opened slightly wider, looking around, unfocused.

Skylar managed to ease a tiny burp out of her, which came with a little bit of spit-up. Skylar’s shirt caught it, as she expected it to, and she shrugged it off, mopping up Bella’s mouth gently, and then bundled up the soiled shirt with a soft chuckle.

She cradled her gently in one arm, and eased upright once more, a grimace and a grunt escaping her as her backside protested at the movement after having gotten comfortable for so long. She was topless once more, baring the deflated looking swell to her belly, and her fingers on one hand wandered down to it with a soft hum. It was a little silly- but Skylar was going to end up being a bit self-conscious about her post-baby belly. There was nothing wrong with it- perfectly natural, she knew- but she was going to have to get used to it. “I’m gonna go put th’ shirt into th’ dirty clothes. Fair warnin’- baby’s spit up a lot. Y’ gonna change shirts often, unless y’ carry around spit up rags.”

[minuitfeu]

Tagged by @pinayako2020

Questions are under the thing and I’ll tag @forgivablefoundations and @vengefulsea if you guys wanna do it.

1. Nickname: Eh it’s really just ones I’ve given myself so Minue and Zero

2. Star Sign: Virgo

3. Height: Uh 5′3 or 5′2 I think? Or somewhere inbetween.

4. Time right now: 9:32pm

5. Favorite music artist: Poets of the Fall, Owl City...mm I think those are my top two..

6. Song stuck in your head: I don’t have one right now :/

7. Last movie watched: Dead.pool

8. Last TV show/anime watched: Oh boy that was the dr.3 stuff a while back. I don’t really watch much, it’s mostly just let’s plays.

9. What are you wearing right now: A Enoshima T-shirt I got from redbubble, some fleece pyjama bottoms, they’re white with pale blue snowflakes and fluffy socks with lil bunnies on.~

10. When did you create your blog: -Shrugs- Yonks and Yonks ago. I was still in Post 16 then I believe so that’s what... 7 or so years ago? Maybe...

11. What kind of stuff do you post: Lots of dr cause I love it so gosh darn much~, cats, hamsters and rats if I see ‘em, Pers.ona, Ok.ami and so on with games that I’m really into, photos of anything pretty water, sky photos.

12. Do you have any other blogs: Nah. I used to have a rp blog for Lee from tw.dg but I stopped using it a couple of years ago I believe.

13. Do you get asks regularly: Nope. I’ve had like...one within the last couple of months I think? And that was just someone answering a question.

14. Why did you choose your url: Eh well I tried to learn french back in highschool so I used it as a username for another site when I was younger cause thinking up a good name is tricky and it’s just stuck :/

15. Gender: A shrug and a wave-y hand basically...

16. Hogwarts House: Slytherin probably..

17. Pokemon team: I don’t have a phone so I’ve never played that one but probably the blue one cause it’s blue >>;

18. Favorite color: Any sort of blue~

19. Average hours of sleep: Oh boy...I have no idea, it’s just way too jumbled up...

20. Lucky number: uh 21 maybe? or maybe something with a 9 in but I don’t really consider any number lucky..

21. Favorite characters: Oh boy...ok here we go~ (I dunno if things under a readmore go into tags but I’m not chancing it so please excuse the broken up names. hopefully it’ll work.. I’m so sorry if it doesnt..)

DR wise - Sak.ura Oog.ami, Yasu.hiro Haga.kure, Hiro.ko Haga.kure, Ma.koto Nae.gi, Kom.aru Nae.gi, Tou.ko Fuk.awa (and Syo), Le.on Kuw.ata, Kaz.uichi Sou.da, Haj.ime Hin.ata/Izu.ru Kamu.kura, Fuyu.hiko Kuzu.ryuu, Gun.dam Tana.ka, Teru.teru Han.amura, Mik.an Tsu.miki, Aka.ne Owa.ri, Go.zu, Dai.saku Ban.dai and Gon.ta Goku.hara.

Pers.ona wise - Kan.ji Tat.sumi, Yu Nar.ukami, Nao.ki Kon.ishi, Ai Ebi.hara, Yu.mi Oza.wa, the Do.jimas, Min.ato Aris.ato, Ph.aros, Chi.hiro Fus.himi, Be.be,  Mai.ko Ooha.shi, Aki.nari Kam.iki

Dyn.asty & Sam.urai Warr.iors wise - Su.n Qu.an, Zh.ou Tai, Zha.ng He, Xu Hua.ng, Xia.hou Dun, Pa.ng To.ng, We.i Ya.n, Ko.taro Fu.ma, Han.zo Ha.ttori.

Ze.ro Esca.pe wise - Jun.pei Tenm.youji, Sna.ke, Seven, Ace, Clover, K and Q.

Sail.or Mer.cury. Kou.shiro Izu.mi from Dig.imon. The twins and Yakuza guy from Tok.yo Twi.light Gho.st Hun.ters. Mor.din So.lus from ME2. Then a load of the girls from the Har.vest Mo.on series.

There’s gonna be more but I should probably stop here >>;

22. How many blankets do you sleep with: None right now but I have about 4 or 5 of them.

23. Dream Job: None.

24. Following: 282

[magnoliadarling]

Danny

PREFACE: I have no idea how to put the specific breaks and lines that are supposed to be in this piece that kind of make it what it is, so if you’d like to see the original version, then just message me and I can send it to you. Here it is though!

“Cause when it gets dark out/And you’re laughing like you do/Cause when it gets dark out/That’s when I know, oh shit, we are doomed...” We drive towards Erik’s house. Booze, nicotine, speed, and molly let us pretend there is more to this world than days like Tuesday. Our souls ache in the coolness of the night; we are so close. I’m not sure whose idea it was to get duster, probably mine, in all honesty. Impulsivity and adrenaline construct crucial roles in my game. It intensifies your rapid nature; I like that. It’s not about duster; it’s never been about duster. To my left, my gaze lands on you. As always, your body leans a bit heavier on your right side and your left wrist wilts over the highest point of the steering wheel. Your fingers, normally relaxed, now tap the solid dashboard with each beat. Eyes shut, I listen. Dun. Dun. Dun. I can feel you. My sight finds you again. You bob your head with more fluidity. With each blink, I absorb your longing. A longing I know, so well. Just keep your eyes closed a second longer.  You get it, now. If we open our eyes, we start at the beginning. My body quivers or, maybe, it’s the vibration pouring out of our skin. You grasp the black, round steering wheel in synch as I clench the top of my knees. Your knuckles turn white. I memorize you. “And, and you wake up cause she don’t ever sleep/And, and the words still twitching at the seams...” Here it comes again, like being caught underneath crashing waves with no way to breathe; don’t panic. Just give in. The open window fills the car with a crisp air. I shiver. My right hand makes a fist. I am back. I tilt my head back on the soft, firm head rest and, yet again, shut my eyes. Summer air has a curious way of making you feel as if you’ve lost something wonderful, yet you know you will have a lifetime trying to find it. My heart twinges. Leaning forward, my hands clench the seat, and I let go. I am consumed by every inch of this color before it passes. I can’t miss this. We are at the peak of the circle, but you and I both know we like testing our limits. This won’t last, but we aren’t concerned. Seeing how high we can reach. Up, Up, Up, Right now, we are headed

My right hand rests on your arm. My breath quickens. I shift my eyes at Megan, in the back seat. I grin as I watch her, lost in her own world and chuckle a bit as she has trouble staying upright on the slick, leather seats. I feel my right shoulder lead me towards the front and notice my body pause at your ear. I can’t move. This wave starts in my toes and as it reaches my jaw, my hand starts to shake. I struggle for breath and clutch the front of your shirt. “m   y   ja   w w i       s tre em mm b     l ing.” I’m worried you can’t hear me over the deafening night air. You face me and clutch your left hand around my jaw. You are solid. I feel your thumb caress my cheek. Your skin radiates warmth I realize I have been missing. I wrinkle my forehead and scrunch my eyes closed as I lean into your touch. The ache in my chest threatens to wreck me. As I start to open my eyes, your figure is blurred. I want to latch onto the lifetime to which we’ve found the key. I let it slip away because my vision is clear and, there it is. Your green and brown eyes lock into mine. The wildness of my hair is now still. Out of the corner of my eye, the wind starts to dance. It’s like never being certain if the clouds move or not. A soft white matter, it shimmers beneath the incandescent moonlight that threatens to expose us. That matter alters itself into a dense fog. I can still feel your hand on my cheek as it blinds us both. It works the same way as deciding to fall underneath water. First, your chest tightens. Fear? Anxiety? You’re never sure. A piercing SMACK slices from one ear and out the other right before... Pressure. You relax. Silence. No,

stillness

You are here.   We are here. The place where time and the world we know do not exist. Your head breaks the surface. Some girl cackles. Children scream. Water drips from your ears. You cough. Your skin is hot. Your face is cold. You can’t open your eyes. You can’t breathe. Blink. Blink. Blink past the water burning your vision. You are positive God created water to humble humans. A sick, but hopeful reminder you were once in a world worth so much more. You fidget with your bathing suit. Spit out water. Flush the water from your eyes. This is what it means to be human. We are back. I swirl back at Megan, as I watch you check your rearview mirror. She inhales another hit of duster. I smirk and shift my body to the front; your eyes are on me, this time. This is the most important secret I will ever share with you. Up once more This is how we go Because we both know The music pulses in our veins Your fingers interlock mine. We are almost at Erik’s.

[zerosuspensiongogo-blog]

Double Sided Coin || Self

Gogo wasn’t Hogwarts’s biggest fan, but she always dreaded when it ended. It wasn’t necessarily what she’d be missing: her small group of friends, easy access to knowledge and resources, or the freedom of the grounds.

No, it was what she would be forced to gain. Which was the presence of the man waiting for her when she stepped off of the train on Platform Nine and Three Quarters. He was tall with broad shoulders, salt and pepper hair, and a scruffy beard matched his somewhat scruffy getup. He had thick, dark eyebrows that mirrored Gogo’s own and they raised when he saw her. A forced smile tugged at his lips as he waved her over. Her stomach churned but she ignored it, sluggishly shuffling towards him while blowing a large bubble. The popping noise rang with distaste.

“Hey kiddo! Long time no see. You ready to go?” He asked, his voice saccharine to the point that she wanted to gag.

“Mm,” was all she responded with, giving a half-hearted shrug. She could see his features twitch a little as he sighed deeply and held out an arm. She glared at it, purposefully not moving for long enough to be inconvenient but not long enough for him to say anything. Then, she merely stepped back.

“Can do it myself now,” she said simply. He blinked in surprise.

“I didn’t know you got your appiration license.”

“My birthday was in April, I turned 17,” she reminded him in a deadpan voice.

“Ah, right. I knew that,” he added quickly at the end. And indeed, she had gotten a card from him with the bare minimum “Happy Birthday From Dad” on it on time, but she was sure at this point that he had some sort of timer and forgot about the date at all other times.

“Are you sure you want to try apparating all the way to the portkey? It might not be safe--”

“I got it.”

“I really don’t think--”

“I got it!” She snapped more aggressively, shooting him a glare. He frowned deeply but then shook his head with a sigh.

“Alright...you go first and I’ll stay behind in case you splinch anything.”

‘Maybe I’ll get lucky and splinch my fucking head off,’ She thought to herself, without an inch of sarcasm. With a loud, resounding crack, she disapparated.

Much to her misfortune, she apparated in the right place, body parts and all.

Her father owned a small house in the Irish countryside. Some would call it cozy, with worn architecture and massive fields of wheat going in all directions. A dirt path several kilometers long would eventually take one to a small muggle town, where the locals gathered in the pub every night to communally drink and make merry.

Or to drown out the misery of their shitty lives, Gogo thought to herself. The sparse, insect infested home was a prison for the Slytherin girl, one that she’d been subjected to for months on end ever since her parents separated. It had only been for holidays and winter break when she’d started school. But after her mother lost her job, she couldn’t afford to raise Gogo in the summer months while also taking care of her ailing parents. So after some good old fun custody disputes, she was forced to waste her summers away in a home that she hated with a man she hated even more.

Most of the time, she’d walk, bike, run, skate--whatever method of escape she could use to travel into town. But there were only so many times you could cycle through the same handful of buildings before you wanted to blow your brains out. And Gogo was already way past that point.

So she sat in her father’s garage--no, it was a joke to even call it that. First of all, they didn’t have a car. Even if they did, it would have to be one of those smart cars if it ever hoped to fit. Instead, it was just a crappy dusty room littered with miscellaneous crap. Gogo was pretty sure there was garbage in here that she’d tossed out last summer. But, it was one of the few spaces that had a halfway decent fan and that she sat under, working on some schematics for an invention she’d been working on for awhile now. She’d been reading up on magnetic levitation and had some ideas on how to combine it with magic to create even faster methods of transportation. Many of the first editions had been duds but she had a feeling this time it would be different.

However, she had to stifle a groan when she heard the door open up behind her. She didn’t even bother looking up from her notebook, nor did she stop her sketching. She could just feel his ooze creeping up behind her, breathing down her neck.

“What’cha drawing there, kiddo? Is it anime?”

Her grip tightened on her pencil, her knuckles turning white. She took a deep breath and tried to force herself to relax, just continuing her work as if he wasn’t there.

“No. They’re schematics for an invention I’m working on. It’ll use electromagnetic suspension and free-form levitation charms to reduce friction and enhance speed and maneuverability,” she replied dryly. She could feel her father shifting uncomfortably behind her.

“Ah. Right.” A silence fell between them. She hoped that he would take a hint and go away. He did not.

“So, how did quidditch go this year? Did Slytherin win?”

Gogo felt her jaw clench. “How should I know? I’m not on the team.”

“Aw c’mon, but you have to at least watch, right? Y’know, you should really consider trying out again. I’m sure you’re better now than you were a couple years ago.”

“It wasn’t because I wasn’t good enough, it was because people on the team fucking hated me,” she growled, her pencil strokes becoming a little harsher.

“Merlin, Leiko, not everyone is out to get you. It’s alright that you didn’t make the cut the first time around, you don’t have to go blaming it on everyone else.”

She could already feel her hands beginning to shake in anger. No one else could get her as worked up as he did--and in record time too. He didn’t have a fucking clue what he was talking about but here he was, spouting off his unwarranted and nonfactual opinion. And as much as she didn’t want to argue about it, there was still something she couldn’t let go.

“I told you, it’s Gogo now.”

The condescending chuckle behind her made her want to shove her pencil through the notebook. Or his face. “Are you still going by that? C’mon, don’t you think you’ve outgrown it? I mean, ‘Go-go’,” he repeated in a mocking tone, “Sounds a bit ridiculous in’nit?”

“Just as ridiculous as ‘Kris-to-fer Dun-nuh’,” she repeated back in just as mocking a tone. His silence was enough to tell her that she’d managed to get under his skin as well. He sighed deeply, running a hand through his greying hair.

“Are we really going to do this again this year? Really?”

“What thing is that,” Shed asked, deadpan.

“The thing where you treat me like absolute shite and I’m supposed to just laugh it off like ‘Hoho, that’s my girl!’ because you report even the slightest hint of discipline as abuse?”

Gogo couldn’t help but give a ghost of a smirk at that. “No, yeah that sounds about right.”

“Fuckin’ hell--” He muttered angrily to himself. She could hear him start to pace around behind her. “You know, I’m actually fucking trying here.”

She inhaled sharply through her nose, practically scratching her pencil and nearly ripping the paper. “Are you? Because you came in here and degraded my drawings before immediately changing the subject to something that only you care about, pretended to have a clue what goes on with me at school, and made fun of my fucking name!”

“Well what the hell do you want me to say!? I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about half the time!”

“You never even tried to learn! All you’ve ever done is try to get me interested in the things that you like, you have never once tried to relate to any of my interests or hobbies or anything that goes on with me!”

“What the fuck do you expect when all you do is sass me and treat me like fucking garbage!” There was a part of her, the teeniest, tiniest sliver that almost felt bad for him. In his eyes, he probably didn’t realize why his daughter hated him so much. He didn’t know that she knew things that she wasn’t supposed to. But those things that she knew far outweighed any semblance of pity into pure malice. “Y’know, any other parent would smack you across your smart mouth for saying half the things you do!”

“Yeah, let’s see how well that works out for you,” she growled dangerously, hunching over her work as she furiously drew. At this point, she’d all but completely decimated any decipherable measurements. Now she was just drawing angry scribbles and furiously stabbing at stick figures that resembled her father.

She thought that would be the end of it. By now, he usually gave up in a huff and that would be the last they’d speak to each other for several more days before the cycle continued. But instead, she could hear footsteps coming up behind her.

“Y’know, you should be fucking grateful for the life I’ve given you. I work hard, every day so that I can earn money to support you, despite the fact that you treat me like dirt. And I let you get away with being an ungrateful, spoiled little--”

He was interrupted by Gogo throwing her notebook and pencil on the desk in front of her and loudly slow clapping. “Oh, congratu-fucking-lations, you’ve done the bare fucking minimum by being a decent human being and taking care of the spawn that your reckless behavior made,” she drawled sarcastically, finally turning to glare at him. His face was bright red by this point and he was fuming just as much as she was.

“Hey, I didn’t have to come back to support you or your mother! But I did because, despite what you seem to think, I actually do give a shit about you!” He yelled at her, aggressively. Yeah, some way to show love and care.

“Do you? Or did you do it because you’re trying to convince yourself that you aren’t a shitty, terrible human being?” His eyes widened and he straightened at that, looking almost like she’d slapped him. With the verbal upper hand, she continued. “’Cuz yeah, I tried to do that once too. But shocker, you’re terrible and I’m your terrible fucking child that you brought in the world. Guess you’ve got to deal with the fucking consequences!”

He stood there in a stunned silence. She glared at him before spinning back towards her work, drawing it close to her body again. Surely this time he would take the hint and piss off. But no, much to her chagrin, he started speaking again.

“Wha-- What the fuck is wrong with you? Who says this kind of stuff?!”

“Me, apparently,” she replied dryly, the anger draining from her voice. The anger was always quick, and then it would subside, replaced by emptiness. No, she’d replace it with something else. With racing thoughts, or invention ideas, or anything else. She turned to a new page and began to lightly sketch, trying to fill the void. But her father wouldn’t let it go that easily.

“What, you can’t even be grateful that you’re fucking alive? That’s how much you want to spite me?!” He demanded. She could practically feel the heat radiating off of him. She scowled, every muscle in her body tense and itching to explode. But she ignored him, remaining silent as she continued to sketch. He stood there, waiting for an answer. One that she refused to give. Finally, fists and jaws clenched, he took a step back and shook his head.

“Bloody hell, if that’s the case, then you might as well fucking kill yourself, eh?” He huffed. It was supposed to be sarcastic. It was supposed to be a joke, the same kind of dark, destructive and hurtful humor that she’d been throwing at him for years now. But those words, strung into that exact sentence, in that exact tone, seemed to set something off in her. She didn’t mean to say it, but the words slipped out of her mouth.

“God, I can only hope someday!” They both stopped in that moment. She sat there, frozen, feeling his eyes boring into the back of her head--searching her, trying to figure out what truth hid under a mountain of sarcasm and cynicism. But after a moment, he scoffed.

“Can you not be sarcastic for like, a minute in your fucking life?” Gogo had to keep herself from giving any visceral signs of relief that he wasn’t going to push her on this. That like everything else, this was clearly just another one of her facetious statements.

“Maybe someday,” she retorted with a hollow tone. His glare worsened but he shook his head, seemingly finally giving in.

“I don’t fucking get it with you. No, you know what? I do. You were upset about the separation and you’re upset that you have to come live with me in the countryside instead of being in London with your mother. I get how that can be annoying. I get that you’re a teenager, and it’s ~fun and edgy~ to rip your parents a new one. But y’know, someday you are going to realize and appreciate just how hard I work to provide a roof over your head, food on the table, and money for your education. I don’t even ask for you to thank me for that, it’s all coming to you and your mother in the form of child support. All I do is give and let you verbally beat me down and do whatever the fuck you want. Maybe you don’t realize just how fucking lucky you have it, but you will someday.” With that, she heard him turn and start to walk back towards the main house.

And normally, she would leave it at that. She’d be grateful that he was backing off and leaving her the fuck alone to do what she wanted. But there was something about the condescension in his tone and how she knew that it was all bullshit that seemed to trigger something in her. She didn’t mean for it to come out, but just as he always did, he managed to bring the worst out of her.

“Forgive me for not pitying your hard work, but I’m sure you’re plenty fine if you can own two houses,” she said, her voice dripping in acid. As she turned to him, she caught a glimpse of him absolutely freezing in his place. When he turned back to her, his eyes were wide in a way that she’d never seen before.

“Excuse me?” 

“You heard me, Mr. Shwartz,” she spat the name that had sat on her tongue for so many years. For so long, she’d imagined his reaction for when she finally revealed her knowledge to him. Much like her fantasies, all the color drained from his face, and his whole body tensed. His mouth even fell open. But instead of feeling empowered and rectified, she only felt seething rage and pain boiling in her gut.

“Wh-- I-- Ho-- What the fuck--” He started to stammer. She wanted to feel triumphant but instead, she just cut him off.

“What, you really didn’t think I knew?” She hawed skeptically. The utter bewilderment on his face was enough of an answer. But she gave a few of her own, scoffing. “I looked around the school. No signs of a ~star Slytherin quidditch player~ named Christopher Dunne, but there sure as hell was a Christopher Schwartz. Not to mention the fact that all the letters you get while we’re here are mailed to a different address. Combined with the fact that you’ve never introduced me to any family members and this place doesn’t look like it’s touched except when I’m here...it’s not fucking rocket science.”

Her father just stared at her. It was almost hard to read his expression. There was confusion, anger, shock, but also hints of something else that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. In between a clenched jaw, through gritted teeth, he finally demanded. “How long?”

Gogo scoffed again, folding her arms and leaning back in the chair. “Years now,” she rebutted simply. The color seemed to come back into his face, a deep red flush rising.

“And why the hell did you wait until now to say something?!” The more he spoke, the more loud and unraveled he seemed to become. Gogo seemed to do the same.

“Because, up until now I’ve needed your fucking money to survive!” She shot back, verbally throwing him off guard. He blinked and looked to her with that stupid fucking bewilderment again. She sighed sharply. “Child support, dumbass.”

The insult seemed to kick him right back into his fury as he squared his shoulders. “What-- you think if you told me earlier I wouldn’t pay child support?!”

“Uh, yeah?”

“Merlin, Leiko, I would never do that! I’m not the fucking monster that you think I am!” He screamed, a vein now pulsing in his neck.

“Could’ve fooled me with all the fucking court cases in my life! And I told you, it’s Gogo!”

“It’s stupid!” He roared, violently swinging his arm out. It wasn’t anywhere close to her, clearly just a way to blow off some steam, but she felt her muscles instinctively tighten. “Any disputes in child support were because your mother wasn’t spending the money on you! Wasting the money on her leech parents--”

Something seemed to snap in Gogo and she slammed her hand on the table, going to stand. “Don’t you dare even put their names in your mouth! ‘I’m not a fucking monster’, look at you! You can’t just knock someone up and then try to drop everything except your shitty seed!” 

“I tried to make things work with your mother! But she was too--”

“Too what?” Gogo started, pushing herself off of the desk and towards her father. The man twitching with violent aggression. “Too muggle?”

“Wha-- No!” He shouted. Gogo caught a glimpse of his fist tightening, the muscles in his arm tensing.

‘Do it. Hit me.’

She gave him a sickening smile as she drew closer. “Too or-i-en-tal?” She emphasized each syllable with a hideous broken English accent.

“No!” His face was bright red by now and his body was trembling.

‘Do it old man. See what fucking happens.’

“That’s why you have the fake name, right? And the second house? Why your family is “estranged”? Because we’re the estranged family not good enough for your hoity-toity, stuck-up, inbred, garbage pureblood family! But guess what, Kris-to-fer Schwartz, you aren’t as fucking smart as you think you are! In fact, I’d say you’re a right fucking dumbass! You go out, shoot your load without protection like a fucking moron and then spend the rest of your life floundering about trying to deal with your mistake so you don’t have to face the reality that--Oh that’s right! You’re a terrible fucking human being who’s too much of a ballsack coward to commit to either being a fucking father or being--whatever the fuck a Schwartz is! But that’s you! That’s who you are! And nothing is ever going to change that!”

By the time she was done ranting, she was standing in front of the seething man. With every sharp inhale, every pulse of the vein, she waited for anything. A twitch--any movement to indicate a violent reaction. In her eyes it was a win-win-win either way. Either she would have an excuse to beat the ever-loving crap out of him or he’d somehow get the upper hand and she’d get him thrown in jail. Or the third option was that he’d go completely fucking nuts and just murder her but again--win-win-win.

He inhaled sharply through his nose and she braced herself. With his exhale, he spoke sharply through bare, gritted teeth. “You-- have NO fucking idea what you’re talking about!”

And then a crack echoed throughout the room. Gogo acted on instinct, bringing her arms up to block herself, just like countless sparring matches had taught her. But nothing made impact. In fact, when she lowered her arms, she saw that the garage was now empty.

He’d disappeared. No, more actually, he disapparated.

He was running away.

Just like he did with everything fucking ELSE!

The thought roared in Gogo’s mind as she spun around, harshly kicking the chair across the room. It clattered against the far wall and fell over, but Gogo didn’t dare stop moving. She couldn’t. She grabbed her notebook and raced up to her room, grabbing her bag and hapharzardly throwing in whatever was in her reach. Clothes, toiletries, her wand, various tools and supplies that she’d transfigured into much safer, travel-friendly form. Then she practically flew to the kitchen where she raided the place for food that wouldn’t expire--taking her father’s favorite snacks just to spite him. Then when all was said and done, she returned to the garage and grabbed her favorite form of transportation that she so rarely got to use at school--her bicycle. It was one of the first one she’d ever made magical modifications on, with tires that could change their tread depending on the terrain. All but slamming the button to open the door, she mounted the cycle and peddled off into the night as fast as possible.

Sure, it probably would have been much easier to apparate to the portkey that would take her from Ireland back to London. But for once in her life, she wasn’t going to take the fastest route possible. She was going to peddle, and push, and force out every horrible toxic thing out of her body until she was nothing but an empty, exhausted shell.

Besides, she could afford to take the time. Because now she had the summer all to herself.