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wxnheart · 2 years

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CW: imprisoned, objectified, collared and leashed, non con cuddling (nonsexual)

It was a collar.

It was the most beautiful necklace you'd ever seen. Gold and gems in a rainbow of hues cascading down your front.

But it was a collar.

One that clasped tightly around your throat. One whose first semicircle layer was not the delicate silk thin thread of of gold or gems, but an Iron D ring.

Perterabo sealed the necklace around your throat. Pulling it a little too snug against your throat.

You tried not to complain. To choke. To keep your body still and your hands limp at your sides.

Your gaze straight forward and still.

You saw the side of a self satisfied smirk on his lips.

"Good girl," He praised.

He clipped a fine golden chain to the D-ring. The other end connected to a metal bracelet on his wrist.

"You can relax now," He said coldly. He affected to soften his expression with a smile. It only made him seem smug. "I intend to start courting you today, and I won't have us start on the wrong foot."

Kind of too late for that. You thought. Hesitantly fingering the choker collar around your neck.

"I expect when I come for you in the morning for you to already have that on." His hand was cradling your head. Fingers twining through your hair. "Understood?"

"Yes sir." Was the automatic, military response.

The smile became slightly more genuine. Sadder. "You don't have to call me sir. Pert- Bo. Bo is fine."

"Bo," The word felt wrong in your mouth. Like it wasn't yours. You frowned up at him.

"You don't like it?" He glared at you. Daring.

"It's cute." You answered honestly. "It just doesn't feel like I should use it."

He blinked at you. Surprise, and then a sneering headcock. "What would you call me then?"

"Rob. And if I had to nickname Dorn it would be Door-"

Perterabo threw his head back in laughter at that. Slapping his knees in mirth. "I suppose I am the winner in that arrangement!" He looked at you with a kinder, better appraising eye. "Very well, let's begin this first date."

The chain was long, thankfully. You had to jog to keep up with him.

This place wasn't the Iron Cage.

You had curled up in the corner of the locked lavish cell in the Iron Cage when the door buckled and an Iron Warrior sweeped you up. Dumping you bound and gagged at Perterabo's feet. The ship juttering beneath you as it jumped into warp space.

Wherever you were, it wasn't in the material realm.

He brought you to a grand banquet room. Pulled the chair out from the table for you. Offering you dishes and cups of wine. Feeding you with a silver fork or spoon too small for his massive hand.

You didn't dare refuse a bite. Even as your belly filled. Keeping his gaze as he studied you with a critical eye. Somehow, he must have known when enough was too much. The dishes were cleared away by exhausted looking servers who wouldn't meet your eyes.

Desert was a fruit sorbet. Your favorite, somehow.

"How did you know?" You asked, once he had scraped the last of the juices in your mouth.

"Once I knew of you I made it my business to know everything about you. In this case, I pulled some favors with Alpharius Omegon." He grimaced. "Knowing them I'll probably regret that at a later date. As it stands, now you can see the difference between the two of us."

"My brother," He continued, heedless of anything you had to say. "was so light with his affections you were surprised when I told you of them. I on the other hand," He caressed your cheek. "Intend to be a very attentive lover."

His fingers wrapped around your chin. That ever studying gaze on yours. For a moment, he moved in to kiss you.

Then pulled back with a hm. "Not yet,"

"Not yet," you agreed. Silently relieved.

"Come my lady," He gestured for you to stand. "Let me walk you back to your quarters."

He went slower this time, letting you keep up in your sluggish state. Herding you into the new, more opulent cell given to you in this place. The door clicking shut behind you both.

It was a relief when he unclipped the chain from your collar.

"Thank you, tonight was-"

His arms wrapped around you. He was kneeling. Holding you firmly in his grip. But not crushing you. Not exactly. Slowly, gently, he rocked you back and forth.

"You were saying?" He murmered.

"Nice." Not a lie. Exactly.

"Mmm, I'm glad." He released you. Accomplishment shining in his eyes. "Tomorrow, I will show you more. And so on and so on. Maybe, if you're lucky," He stressed that word. "You will see my heart."

Lucky? You tilted your head at his retreating back. A mystery. You liked mysteries. It was your job to find missing pennies before Rogal scooped you up to trawl through lists to locate individual cracks in Terra's defenses. Small ones that were unusable to Astartes but devastating if found by heretical sympathizers.

This was a bit different from arithmetic and security checks. This was more personal.

A challenge.

You took initiative.

"Good night,"

He gave you a startled glance back. Then smiled that sneering smile. "Good night, beloved."

-Goddess Anon

👍

#warhammer 40k #primarch #perturabo #rogal dorn #primarch x reader #yandere40k.#cw: kidnapping #good food as always Goddess Anon!

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pettyvxbes · 3 years

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FUCKLUST (18 +) - {COLSON BAKER x READER }

Y'all, I got a little carried away on this one. 🙈🥵💦

Warnings: Smut (18+), cursing.

FUCKLUST

Intransitive verb: an insatiable sexual desire to fuck the hell out of that one particular special someone you think about all the time.

Colson towered over you, his strong arms pinning your hands over your head. Leaning down, he captured your lips in a heated kiss. You could feel his hard cock against your thigh, making heat pool in your center. You gasped as Colson pushed his body against yours, sliding his bare length between your folds. You could feel his hot breath on yours as a groan escaped his lips.

Colson took your bottom lip between his teeth, biting hard. You wanted to pull him closer, but he kept a firm grip on your arms which were still positioned above your head. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him as close to you as possible.

"I'm going to fuck you so good you won't be able to remember another man has been inside you, you won't ever want another cock." Colson growled, reaching down to position himself. You could feel the head of his cock pressing at your entrance.

A jolt shuddered through you, making you jump. Your eyes shot open as you awoke from your accidental nap. You were immediately met with the familiar pair of baby blues that belonged to your co-star, Colson Baker.

You two had been working on a movie together for the last three months, and you were set to film your very first kissing scene, which you ultimately blamed for the naughty dream, even though you knew deep down it was much more than that. From the moment you stepped on set, the chemistry between you was undeniable, and the sexual tension was consuming. Colson was always making you laugh uncontrollably or making you wish you were underneath him. Unfortunately, you had both decided for the sake of the film that you would keep it professional. The closer it got to wrapping the first film, the harder it was to resist wrapping yourselves around each other.

"Y/n, are you okay?" Colson asked. Your cheeks flushed red, remembering the dream you were just in the middle of. Colson smirked at you once he noticed the rosy tint to your cheeks. "You were dreaming about me, weren't you?" He joked but had no idea how accurate he was.

You quickly tried to regain your composure, ignoring the intense need for his hands on your body. It took everything in you to not jump him right there in the lounge.

"Yeah, actually," You admitted, catching him off guard at your candor.

"Guys, we need you on set." One of the crew members popped their head in the room, interrupting your conversation. You got up from the chair that you had fallen asleep in, stopping in the doorway, you turned back around to face the handsome man.

"Thank you for the sex. It was mind-blowing." You smirked, making Colson's jaw drop. Although your dream hadn't gone quite that far, you knew it would have been amazing.

It sucked. Liking someone you couldn't have. Seeing Colson every day but knowing that he'd never be yours because of your stupid agreement. It was the worst feeling in the world. All you could do was dream about him and the things that he'd do to you. . .

. . . but you couldn't jeopardize the success of the film, your career, you worked so hard to get to where you were. You refused to be like all of the other Hollywood cliches. Two beautiful people playing two beautiful lovers who accidentally fall for each other in real life but eventually go up in flames. Completely ruining the on-screen chemistry in the sequels or worst-case scenario, one of them being re-casted, which you knew would end up being you.

Not long after stepping on set, you found yourself standing in the middle of a faux lingerie store next to Colson, who was helping your character pick out something to wear.

"Let me guess. You like garters and silk stockings?" You delivered your lines perfectly as you thumbed through the garments on the rack in front of you.

"Two for two, although I'd like you in anything you put on… or take off," Colson smirked, handing you a hanger adorned with a very sexy lace bustier set. You glanced towards the dressing rooms, then back at Colson with a scandalous glimmer in your eye.

"Help me try it on? Just to make sure it fits, of course."

"Of course." Colson mimicked you before following you towards the dressing rooms. After quickly switching scenes on set, you resumed filming in the tiny room.

You pushed Colson toward the bench in the dressing room, forcing him to sit. Looking him straight in the eye, you reached for the hem of your clothes, lifting slowly, exposing your bare skin inch by inch. Colson sat in front of you, clenching his fists in his lap, clearly holding himself back from reaching for you as you stepped out of the last of your clothes and into the lingerie.

"Well?" Does it live up to your imagination?" Your character asked as you looked at yourself in the mirror, adjusting the straps on the bustier and garter belt. Colson's body was pressed up against yours in an instant, meeting your gaze in the mirror. He planted a kiss on your neck, sending shivers down your spine as his hands found their way to your hips. You could feel him growing hard against you. In the moment, you almost forget that you were filming, clearing your throat to break the trance.

"I hope you like this one because I'm pretty sure I have to buy these panties now." You blurted. Those weren't your lines; You had no idea where that came from. You could feel Colson grin against the nape of your neck. Your face flushed in embarrassment, but before anyone could notice, Colson spun you around, threading his fingers through your hair pulling you into a fierce kiss.

You knew this wasn't how the scene was supposed to go, but even as you tried to remind yourself to stick to the script, you found yourself pulling him closer. After the last few months of tension and self-restraint, Colson's mouth, hot and insistent on yours, was a relief.

"Tell me to stop, and I will," Colson whispered against your lips.

"Don't." Was the only word you were able to get out before you melted into his arms. Wrapping your body around his. The kiss grew passionate and intense quickly. You both forgot where you were and what you were doing until the director screamed cut, startling both of you.

"That was phenomenal," the director complimented you two on your improv. The rest of the day was spent filming fill-in scenes with your other castmates; in fact, you hadn't seen Colson once since your little rendezvous in the dressing room. This was probably a good thing because, after that heated kiss, you were sure you wouldn't be able to resist.

Once filming had wrapped for the day, you made your way back to the dressing rooms, still replaying the kiss from earlier in your mind. You were so caught up in your thoughts out hadn't even realized that you walked right past your dressing room door, opening your co-workers as your own.

You were startled to find Colson standing in front of you. Freshly showered in nothing but a small white towel. You could see the outline of his cock through the cotton fabric. It was enough to make you salivate. His eyes locked with yours, the look of lust on your face was apparent, and he reciprocated. The desire absorbed you; you knew that resisting him was no longer an option. That no matter how hard you tried, you wouldn't be able to curb the ache you felt for him until it was satisfied.

Before you could make the first move, Colson's lips were on yours. His kiss was hard as his arms wrapped around you, holding you close to him. His passion was contagious and electrifying. Colson pressed his body flush with yours, sucking on your lower lip as he ran his fingers roughly through your hair.

"Stop teasing and touch me," You demanded. With a smirk, Colsons' hands found your backside lifting you up. You wrapped your legs around his back as he pressed you hard into the wall.

"It's about damn time." He breathed. With his free hand, Colson wrapped your hair around his fist, pulling your head back with a slight yank. He took a second, admiring the view before leaning forward to press a soft kiss to your mouth, so lingering that it made your knees week.

"If we're finally going to do this, I want to hear you say it, y/n." Colson said, looking into your eyes, and without hesitation, you spoke.

"Colson, I need you."

You had a moment to catch Colson's groan before he crashed his lips into yours. You moved frantically together, hands roaming each other's bodies and tongues exploring each other's mouths. Your dress was hiked up around your waist as Colson's hands wandered, feeling every inch of your body. His lips moved down your jaw, his hips grinding into yours. The rub of his bulge against the fabric of the lingerie you had taken from set sent a rush of need to your core, causing you to buck your hips into him.

"Do you feel what you do to me y/n?" Colson growled as he grabbed your hand, guiding it down to the space between you both. "What have you done to me every single goddamn night since I've met you?" He asked, rock hard against your palm. Colson let out an agonizingly sexy groan in response to your touch. You rubbed your hand up and down the length of him, straining hard against the fabric of the towel around his hips. You squeezed your hand around him, stroking slowly. Colson's groans quickly turned to grunts, deep and sexy, until his hand abruptly stopped yours.

"Y/n, you're going to make cum before I even get you naked." He admitted with a slight chuckle. With one smooth move Colson hoisted you into his arms, shifting your weight away from the wall. You locked your ankles around his back, and he carried you across the room. His mouth latched to the skin of your neck.

"Are you marking me, Colson Baker?" You asked seductively. Colson growled low in his throat.

"You haven't seen anything yet, princess." He avowed, tossing you on the chaise lounge. His eyes roamed the curves of your body, still covered in the fabric of your sheer dress. You leaned back on the chair, your skirt hiked up enough to show a peek of the panties beneath. Colson groaned as he dropped to one knee on the lounge so he could lean over you. His eyes were electric as he took in your body. Eyes locked with his, you slowly removed your clothes, tugging your dress over your head and letting it fall to the floor. Colson took in the lingerie that he had picked out for you, his eyes traveling hungrily over your body.

"Seeing you laid out like this in the lingerie that I picked out, it's hard not to feel like. . ." Colson trailed off in thought.

"Like you have a claim on me?" You guessed what he was thinking, and Colsons eyes darkened.

"Exactly like that. It's not a feeling I want to let go of." He remarked. "As much as I love it. . . let me see you without it."

You slipped the straps off your shoulders, watching Colsons eyes follow the movement. You slowly removed the lingerie as he watched your every move. Once you were completely naked, you leaned back on your elbows, biting your lip while looking up at him, waiting to see what he'd do. Colson leaned forward, his eyes locked with yours. His hands framing your body on either side of the lounge chair.

"I want to mark every part of your beautiful body," Colson went on, "after all of that teasing and waiting. . . I want you to think of me every time you look in the mirror." He said, running his finger gently down your neck, your chest, over your nipples. "I want you to see the places I've touched you."

"Do it." You begged.

Colson let out a deep, wild growl that sent a shiver down your body. He dipped down, running his tongue over your collarbone, punctuating the movement with a nip to your shoulder. He pressed a line of soft kisses over the line of your shoulder before his mouth slid up to leave another bite mark on your neck. You gasped at the feeling of his teeth sinking into the curve of your neck. Before the pain could register, Colson licked over the same spot, peppering your skin with kisses. You could feel the trail of marks he was leaving on your neck and down your chest. It stung with pleasure and a hint of pain. He slowly made his way down your body, biting the edge of your hip, almost hard enough to draw blood. A moan escaped your mouth, and you instinctively lifted your hips to meet him.

"Colson"

"Fuck y/n, you're better than any fantasy I could ever have." He marveled as he pulled back to look at you, his gaze full of lust and wonder. Colson tugged on your knees, dragging you to the edge of the lounge chair, your bent legs framed his hips. "I can't wait to taste you. Have you thought about that? What it'd be like to have my mouth on you?"

"I may have considered what it'd be like. . . or how good you'd be. . ." You admitted coyly.

"Trust me, I'm not one to disappoint." He promised. "I can't even tell you how long I've been waiting for this. How many dreams I've had with me between your thighs. . ." desire dripping from every word he spoke.

Colson hovered over you, connecting his lips with yours as your fingers moved down his back. He moved his lips down your body - your neck, your collar bone, your breasts - he left a trail of kisses down your stomach, over your hips, until he reached the place where you craved him most. You arched into his touch, wanting to get closer. Colson lifted his head, grinning wide.

"Eager, are we?" He smirked. Before you could even catch your breath, Colson'sColson's tongue was between your folds, licking you slowly. He looked up to meet your eyes, holding down your hips as his mouth found your bundle of nerves. He sucked your clit like a starved man, enjoying each moan and gasp that he pulled from you. Within seconds you were writhing underneath him as his tongue continued making you sing.

"Oh my god," you moaned, your hand finding its way into his hair. Colson slid a single finger inside of you, working perfectly in time with his mouth against your bud. It sent shockwaves down your body. The rush of pleasure pushing you over the edge.

"Fuck Colson!" You moaned.

"That's it, say my name." He coaxed you. Pulling back enough to speak, Colson used his hand to rub your clit in sharp circles, hard enough to drive you crazy. "Cum for me." He ordered, and your orgasm hit you like a wave, the pleasure shaking through you as you finally let go. You fell back onto the chaise lounge, spent.

Colson climbed on top of you, kissing you passionately. His fingers found their way between your thighs, teasing at your entrance before slipping, not one but two fingers inside. You gasped at the sensation. Colson rocked his hand in smooth, firm strokes, making you moan. He curled his fingers to reach the spot inside that makes fireworks explode behind your eyes. He pumped his fingers in and out of you at a faster pace leaving you breathless, hitting that particular spot every time.

You couldn't take it any longer. You ran your nails down his tattooed back, stopping at the only piece of fabric separating his naked body from yours. In one swift motion, you yanked the towel from his hips, making him grin.

"Since the day I met you, all I wanted to do was make you come undone around me," He said, sliding the underside of his cock over your wet center, giving your clit just a hint of the friction that you craved.

Colson pressed his cock over your clit one last time, making you moan before he positioned it against your entrance. He slowly pushed himself inside of you, one pleasurable, tantalizing inch at a time until you were completely full. Visibly restraining himself, Colson stayed still, letting you get used to the size of him. Both of you breathing heavily as you became familiar with the feel of each other. You rocked your hips up, pulling him in deeper. Tipping his head back in pleasure, Colson let out a groan.

"You're going to be the death of me," Colson mumbled before starting to move agonizingly slow, using all of his self-control. He slowly rolled his hips, pressing his pelvis down against your clit, making you moan.

"Do you want me to go faster?" He asked as he slowly pushed himself deep inside of you, brushing against that perfect spot.

"Y-yes," You stammered in between breaths.

"Tell me what you want," Colson demanded. You could see the tension in his shoulders; it was getting difficult for him to hold himself back. His strokes were slow and hard, sending electric sparks through your body - hot, but not enough. He was driving you crazy, and he loved it; you could tell by the smirk he was wearing.

"Want to hear your beg for it." He growled, sliding slowly into you again, stretching you, sending white-hot pleasure through your body. You could swear you saw stars.

"Please fuck me harder," You moaned. It was precisely what he wanted to hear. In a split second, Colson's self-restraint snapped. His hips moving faster, thrusting deep inside you. You let out a moan as you attempted to bring your hips down to meet his, but he set a frenzied pace, so hard that it took your breath away.

You gripped his shoulders, raking your nails down his tattooed back, hard enough to leave a mark. Colson let out a low growl as the knot in your stomach grew taut; you were so close. You closed your eyes, overwhelmed by the sensation.

"Open your eyes. Look at me while you cum on my cock." Colson's nails dug into your hips, and the mixture of pain and pleasure made that knot unravel. Your eyes shot open, meeting those familiar baby blues again.

Colson slammed into you hard and deep, making you scream his name as you fell off the edge, pleasure cascading through your entire body. Colson's lips found their way to yours, swallowing every sound you gave him. The feeling of your release around him causing him to cum even harder, your mouth engulfing his groans. He pulsed inside of you, releasing himself and all the built-up tension from his body until the only thing left between you was heavy breathing.

"Fuck." Colson groaned, lying motionless on top of you for a moment, too fatigued to move. Once he caught his bearings, he rolled off of you, laying on his back next to you. A quiet chuckle escaped his lips.

"What's so funny?" you probed.

"Before you walked in here, I was trying to figure out how I was going to keep myself from accidentally busting while filming our sex scene next week." He answered, still chuckling to himself. His response made you laugh out loud.

"And what makes you think you won't? The sexual tension could easily build back up by then." You challenged him.

"Oh, I have every intention of doing this again" He pointed between you two.

"Oh really?"

"Yeah," He responded, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek, "I thought that your laugh was my favorite. . ." He continued, moving to gently kiss your lips. "but now that I've made you moan. . ." He trailed off, moving down to kiss your neck, sucking just enough to draw a quiet moan from your lips. ". . .I plan on hearing it many times before then" He smirked, and just like that, the insatiable sexual desire to fuck the hell out of Colson Baker returned.

#fucklust #colson baker #colson x reader #colson baker x reader #colson baker smut #smut #insatiable #hot #mgk smut #mgk imagine #mgk x reader #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly x reader #machine gun kelly smut #mgk x reader smut

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sahbibabe · 4 years

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death and the maiden

a final fantasy vii: remake fanfiction

chapter one. valkyrja.

LONG, SILKY HAIR一as pale as fine rays of true, genuine moonlight, tipped with mako green phosphorence and royal blue as deep as the darkest depths of the ocean一tumbled down the woman's back in a luxurious sheet. It shone underneath the fluorescent lights of the train, providing a multitude of colors to the visible eye, a brilliant sheen of pinks, blues, greens, gorgeous ultraviolets, and neon yellows. Many people stared at that hair, watched as it rustled underneath the vents in the car, transfixed when it fell over a cotton clad shoulder to rest delicately at her back.

Wedge had never seen anyone like her before.

She wore no gaudy clothing like the rest of Wall Market, which was from where she had boarded, and instead donned a fine cotton dress, sewn with sparkling, yet modest golden thread at the wrists, collar, and the hem that covered her bare toes, which had been painted the deepest of blacks, filed down to a neat precision. Upon her neck rested an ornate crest that appeared black but shone like oil whenever she jolted with the train; upon her wrists, unusually, were orbs of materia of various kinds, socketed into charms and chains that wound about her fingers and dangled delicately from her knuckles.

Above the cotton dress she wore a shawl, embroidered in the same golden thread and made of the same cotton fabric. It clung to her shoulders, hiding the deep diamond shaped cuts that exposed the majority of her collarbones and upper arms, and from the bottom that clipped close to her knees dangled tassels of gold, their knots wrapped around shining orbs of golden materia.

Her eyes were closed, but he had heard whispers from the other passengers that she had odd eyes, as violet as the sheen of her hair. A serene smile was upon her face, like she had left this plane of reality long ago, and she sat as still as a statue, her hands were folded primly, holding a small pouch that she refused to remove her fingers from. Then she reached up.

In her ears, one side of her hair being gently swept back to pull the generous lengths of hair to one side, dangled earrings that threw him for a loop. Bright yellow chocobos stared back at him with winky faces, their wings raised in joy, feet kicking outwards as if they had jumped in midair. It was out of place on a woman so elegant, so mysterious, and Wedge couldn't help but silently gape at her.

On first sight, he had almost mistaken her for that Sephiroth guy that Cloud had spoken about in his sleep. But it was difficult to mistake her for him when her hair held those colors, the way her skin seemed to repel the light instead of attract it, and that sweet smile upon her lips; no one that at peace could be Sephiroth.

"Pretty, huh?" From beside him, Jessie spoke for the first time since the woman had gotten on the train. She had been watching, too, in the same mesmeric form as Wedge. "I've never seen her before. Do you think she's one of Madame M's girls?"

"I doubt it." Wedge pulled his gaze away. "She seems too modest for that. Maybe one of the receptionists?"

"No, too… boring. She seems like the kind of gal that runs a business or something." Jessie tapped her chin with her fingers, snapping them when she came up with something. "A priestess!"

"That's all you could come up with?" Wedge deadpanned. He dug in his pocket to produce a peppermint and put it in his mouth to settle his aching stomach. "I don't think your mom's pizza agreed with me tonight, Jessie. I feel like I just ate a handful of nails."

"Or you just ate too much," she laughed, elbowing him in the ribs. He groaned and scooted away. "Big baby. We'll get Tifa to make something when we get back."

"I don't think I could take another tonic," he complained. He looked back over at the woman, only to find her looking straight at him with a small, polite smile. "Uh…"

"What?" Jessie urged. She then caught sight of the woman, then at Wedge, who's cheeks were beginning to flush a pale pink. "Oh, wowza! What pretty eyes!"

"Jessie!" Wedge hissed, elbowing her this time.

The woman's smile widened just a bit. She opened her mouth, probably to speak, but then thought better of it and turned her head away. The smile was still there, though, and Wedge felt himself getting even more flustered.

"What?" She responded, standing when the train slowed to a crawl near Sector Seven. "It's true! She has pretty eyes! I've never seen any that color before!"

"Ugh, nevermind. Let's go get that tonic. I think I might throw up."

"Is that your stomach or your crush talking?" She teased, but shoved him off the train anyways, directing him down the street to the series of rooftops they would use to get back to the slums discreetly. "Come on, we need to get back to Biggs and一"

"Excuse me?" The woman stood a few feet from them, a hand clutching her shawl and the other holding the bag in a vice grip. Her eyebrows were furrowed, setting those pretty ultraviolet eyes into a slightly unnerved expression. Framed by pale lashes, her eyes were almost ethereal. "Can you direct me to a bar called Seventh Heaven? I'm looking for someone there."

"W-who are you looking for?" Wedge stuttered. Jessie sighed. "Maybe we can help."

"I'm looking for a man named Barret." She shifted, turning towards the street. Her shawl's tassels rustled with the movement. "He said I could find him at this place, but I'm afraid I don't know where it is… or how to get there."

"You're one of Barret's friends?" Jessie asked, eyes wide in shock. "I didn't know he even had any."

"So you know him?" The woman stepped a little closer. The scent of lilacs and lavender drifted off of her in the breeze. "Can you take me to him? I'll compensate you for your trouble."

"How much are we talking?" Jessie inquired, stepping up to close the distance between them. It was then that she realized that the woman before her was quite tall, perhaps even as tall as Barret was, flat footed. "The route we're taking is pretty dangerous. We'll have to protect you if things get rough."

"Would one hundred gil apiece suffice?" She asked, rummaging around in one of her pockets and producing two single, one hundred gil coins for them. From the extra clinking going on in her pocket, it sounded like she had a lot more. "I can protect myself. I'm an experienced magic user. All I need is for you to guide me."

"I'm sold," Jessie chortled, taking the offered gil and turning to Wedge. "What about you? We can split up if you don't want to do the job."

"It's fine with me, but can we hurry? My stomach is rumbling up a storm."

"Yeah, yeah." Jessie rolled her eyes and turned back to the woman. "How well do can you deal with rooftops?"

"Well enough." The woman smiled, a sparkle of mischief in her eye. "Shall we go?"

They walked down the sidewalk to one of the nearby alleyways where Jessie had set up a ladder before they left to her mother's house. They bypassed several thugs and drunkards, who parted for them knowing who they were, and allowed the mysterious woman to climb up the ladder first.

As she reached the third rung from the top, Jessie asked,"So what's your name? I'm Jessie and this is Wedge. It's only polite we get to know yours."

She vaulted over the raised edge of the roof like she weighed nothing with the materia attached to her body. "My name? It's Valkyrja."

"That's a weird name." Jessie went up next. "I've never heard of it before."

"You wouldn't have." Valkyrja smiled at her secretively before moving aside to allow the girl to help Wedge up onto the roof, pulling him up by the hand. "How far do we have to walk across these roofs?"

"Not long, just until we can get to the back paths. Then we'll be home free." Jessie patted Wedge's back and set off down the roof. "Come on! If we get back before eight, we can see if Tifa's made dinner! Wedge, move it!"

"Yes ma'am!" He breathed, jogging to catch up with her rapidly moving form. Valkyrja was right behind him, keeping from one roof to another as gracefully as a deer. "Watch out for the nails, wouldn't want to get caught in any of those."

"I'll remember that," Valkyrja laughed, turning her attention towards Jessie. The girl waved at them exuberantly, pointing to another ladder. "Are we almost there already?"

"Yep! This way's much faster than taking the normal route. That way we won't miss Tifa's cooking." His stomach rumbled in protest. "Or, maybe not…"

Valkyrja laughed politely and allowed him to help her keep her balance as she lowered her foot to the ladder. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Wedge flushed red once more, following her down when she reached the bottom.

From there they walked in silence, finally reaching the telltale walls of the slums. People waved to them and greeted them as they passed, eyeing Valkyrja with some suspicion, and Jessie took them all the way to Seventh Heaven's doorstep.

Barret was sitting on the steps with Marlene, laughing up a storm while she colored in one of her books. The doors behind him were open, exposing Tifa, Cloud, and Aerith inside; Jessie even spotted Biggs with them. She bounded inside before Wedge could stop her, motioning halfheartedly to Valkyrja.

"Sorry," Wedge apologized sheepishly. The woman inclined her head with a small nod of acknowledgement. "Jessie gets too excited sometimes. Hey, Barret, you have a visitor!"

His laughing abruptly cut off. "A visitor? Who in the ever一"

"Aunt Val!" Marlene exclaimed, dropping her crayons and book. "Aunt Val!"

Wedge looked over to see relief pouring over her features as the little girl ran over to her and slammed into her legs, jumping and holding her arms up to be lifted.

"Valkyrja?" Barret mumbled, the visible parts of his face frozen with surprise. "Well I'll be damned. I thought you were dead. And here you are, in the flesh."

"Marlene," Valkyrja cooed, scooping up the little girl and showering her with kisses to her forehead. "Has Barret been taking good care of you, honeybunches?"

"Yeah!" She exclaimed, wiggling to be let down. "Look, look! I got a new coloring book! Come look at it!"

When the pale haired woman released her, Marlene bounded towards the stairs, gathering up her supplies to eagerly show to her. Wedge, baffled, edged up to the doors.

"It's good to see you both safe," Valkyrja sighed, moving to grab Barrett in a gentle hug. Wedge was even more surprised to see him respond to it. "I was worried. When that reactor blew up, I thought you didn't make it. I came as fast as I could."

"I'm glad you came, Val," Barret replied. Wedge could hear the tiredness in his voice; something he had never heard from him before. "Marlene missed you."

"Not you?" The woman teased, poking him in the shoulder. She laughed at the face he made. "I'm just kidding. I know you did. I missed the both of you too. The temple had to be shut down because of the reactor going down, so I'll be here until it's all cleaned up."

"I'm sorry. Not for the explosion, for the temple. I know how much it meant to you." Barret sounded almost apologetic. "So, sorry."

"It's okay." Valkyrja patted his shoulder. "A temple can be replaced. People can't. Now, let's meet you and Marlene's friends. Her letters made me curious about them all!"

"I ain't got none." Wedge paused, a little sting in his chest. "I got family, though."

"Your family, then." Valkyrja smiled, her happiness brilliant underneath the neon red sign of Seventh Heaven. "I've met Wedge and Jessie, but who are the rest? Marlene told me about a Tifa, an Aerith, even a Cloud…"

"Eh… Just wait till you meet em'. They're a good bunch of people. "

"Are they now?"

"I dunno. Cloud's still pretty iffy."

"You're just saying that. I'm sure he's nice."

"Sure I am."

finis.

tell me your thoughts! what do you think of valkyrja? how do you think she is connected to marlene and barret? what did you like, what did you not like? let me know!

#final fantasy #final fantasy 7 remake #final fantasy vii remake #oc x canon #oc x cc #sahbibabe #fanfiction

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solo-pitstop-vibes · 5 years

Text

Don’t Have to Tell Me Twice

A/N: I wrote this one kinda quick, maybe it’s not too bad. I’m trying to really work on my writing so I’m going to try to get the part two for Come Home to Me out soon. Enjoy!

Words: 2,333

"The murmur is gone."

The words that stopped your heart, your breathing, and echoed in your mind for weeks, months, days, and years. The second those four words slipped from your sweet Eugene's lips, your world stopped. You held it together, but that night you cried yourself to sleep. You knew Gene would be shipping off soon, off to fight the war that he had so desperately been trying to claw his way to. You didn't want him to go, you knew better than to beg, so you didn't dare ask him to stay. His heart was with the war, and if he didn't go, his heart would never be at home. So you collected yourself the best you could and came to terms with him leaving. You didn't know how long he'd be gone or if you'd ever see him again. You two had known each other for several years now, him being the first person you met when your family moved to town when you were 13, and now you were inseparable. You and Eugene had just been together as a couple for about 9 months when he shipped out.

Seeing him off at the train station almost broke your heart entirely. Especially when he gave you that adorable half-smile of his standing out on the platform.

"You better not run off and find another gal on your way home when the war is over," you had said, in an attempt to lighten the mood, a small grin on your face.

"I'll try my hardest darlin'. Ain't nobody as pretty as you though, gotta make sure I come home so no one steals the prettiest girl in Mobile out from under me," Eugene smiles that smile that made you fall in love with him all over again, and your blush could be seen a mile away. The whistle of the train caught your attention and broke your smiles. It was time.

"Don't forget, mother and father want you over for supper every Sunday afternoon, and you can take Deacon on a walk anytime you like. Don't be shy, they love you," Eugene reminded you.

"I know, Gene. Thank you for reminding me, I'll make sure to give Deacon extra lovin' since you won't be there to spoil him." That dog had gone everywhere with you two the past few years, he had become like a child between the pair of you. You never saw you two without Deacon. The train whistle blew again, meaning it was time for Eugene to board. Tears had started to well up in your eyes, and Eugene pulled you into a tight embrace.

"Don't cry, sweetheart. I'll be back, I promise. I love you (Y/N)."

You hugged him back with everything in your body before pulling away.

"I love you too Eugene," your hands settled on his chest and his came up to cup your face, pulling your lips to his. You knew the next kiss shared between you two would a very long time from then, but you never thought it would be nearly 4 years later. In your heart, it felt like an eternity.

—

Life had been passing by, but not truly lived while Eugene was away. You had kept Gene's reminder in check, and you had supper with his family every Sunday evening and walked Deacon at least every other day. Since Eugene had been gone, you had moved out of your family's house into a small one bedroom house closer to town. It was exactly what you wanted, and everything you could ask for. Your parents had offered to help you purchase the small home, in exchange that you took classes at Alabama Polytechnic, and kept a small job. Three or four days out of the week after your last midday class, you were an assistant in the office at the elementary school downtown. You always loved seeing the kids during the school year, and when the summers rolled around, they always let you help out the rest of the staff with any repainting they did around the school. Most of the staff had gotten to know you, so they always tried to keep you busy and your thoughts off the constant worry in your mind.

To everyone else, it seemed as if you were doing just fine, but on the inside, you were a pile of shattered glass. Each waking moment was a struggle, every moment was filled with dread and worry. Your worst nightmare was hearing the news that no one wanted to hear, the news that made mothers, fathers, siblings, and significant others crash to their knees and weep. Each letter from Eugene was a small relief, but his letters were filled with glimpses into the hell he was living. He tried his hardest to spare you the gore and the hideous details of each day in the Pacific, but you knew he was struggling to keep it together. You did your best writing him back, you never wanted to glorify the quaint life of Mobile. That was a cruel thing to do to a man in war. Eugene's letters often came months late, and you may only receive one every 3-5 months. When you other best fried, Sidney Phillips returned from the Pacific, he did his best to comfort you when you were down. Although, he was still trying to help himself to recover from the horrors he had seen in the war himself. Since Sid's return home, you both decided to at least have lunch with each other once a week, usually every Tuesday. You were actually the one to help him get up the courage to finally ask Mary Houston it, a girl he had been pinning after since he was a young teenager. After a few months of them dating, Mary started joining you two for lunch, and you and her became friends. This became your routine, every Tuesday you three would meet at the little diner downtown, have lunch, talk, and enjoy each other's company. A year passed and one day, the couple sitting across from you couldn't stop smiling at each other. It warmed your heart to see them so happy together, but this affection was a little more than usual.

"Okay, you two," you giggle, setting your coffee cup down on the table in front of you, "y'all haven't stopped smiling at each other since you walked up. Something tells me that something is goin' on here that I just don't know about yet. You best spill the beans before I have to pull it out of ya."

They both laughed and Sid caught your gaze, a broad smile on his face. It clicked in your head and you already knew what he was about to say. A genuine smile spread across your cheeks, "Well Sid I hate to tell ya, but you might have a few men try to jump you when you announce that the Mary Houston is officially off the market for good." You all laughed and Mary gushed about how romantic it was when Sid asked her to marry him. Their engagement started a new branch of your life that helped you pull through each day. Mary began including you in things with her friends, and she always had a list of things to ask your opinion on each Tuesday. You never let the news break to Gene, Sid said he wanted to break the news to him himself, so you kindly agreed. You helped them plan their small engagement party, which was held at the new banquet hall down by the bay. That night, your heart ached that you couldn't have Eugene by your side, but you put a smile on your face for everyone. The wedding creating a new thread in life for you, which helped brighten your days. The couple decided to wait until the war was over to have the ceremony, mainly due to the fact that Sidney wanted Eugene to be his best man, even though you offered to wear one of Eugene's old suit coats over your dress and be a stand-in. He declined the offer, saying you were too pretty to be standing in for Eugene, that he needed the real deal.

Between the wedding planning, working at the elementary school, and attending college, before you knew it, another year had passed. You were painting a large cartoon farm in one of the halls at the elementary school when the news rang out on the radio nearby. The other ladies helping you paint went frantic.

"The war is over!"

"The troops are coming home!"

"No more war!"

You were stunned, the paintbrush still tight in your hand.

"(Y/n)! Aren't you excited, your lover boy is coming home!" That comment caught you, and the rest of the day, you couldn't wipe the smile off your face.

You called Sid the second you got home, questions flying from our lips. When do you think Gene would be home? Do you think he'll come straight home? You also told him to ask Mary what you should wear to the train station. He only laughed and said, "Slow down speedy, I don't know the answer to every question you've got now. We'll just have to hear from Gene first, he can answer more than I can. He might be rounded up for some cleanup work, so it could be another few months, but Mary said she'd come over tomorrow to help you find something."

Turns out a few months ended up being six before you finally got word from Eugene that he'd be home soon. You were ecstatic, well that was more of an understatement. Your mood improved, your smile brightened, and your heart ached less knowing Eugene would be returning home, alive. The exact date of Eugene's arrival was kept strictly between him and Sid, Eugene said he wanted it to be a surprise, which you hated. That boy was going to be the death of you as if he hadn't caused you any heart troubles already. Awaiting Eugene's arrival you tried to keep yourself busy instead of just staring out the window all day, and Eugene's mother was a huge help. It was currently a cool fall evening, you were at the Sledge household helping Mrs. Sledge do some cleaning. She was inside washing some of her glass plates and cups that she had on display in the dining room, and you were outside hanging freshly washed bedsheets, curtains, and other linens. Humming to yourself lightly, you hung up a bedsheet. The soft fabric flowing in the wind as you pinned the corners to the clothesline.

"(Y/N), dear! You have a visitor, I'm sending them out to you," Mary Frank's voice rang out from the back steps. You didn't bother shouting out a response, not wanting to try and yell across the yard. It was probably either Mary Houston or Sidney. Anytime they couldn't find you or get ahold of you, they always came here. You hang up the last sheet in your basket and smooth it out before you finally lookup. Your heart stops, and you freeze in your place. Through the sheets floating in the wind, you catch a glimpse of dark green moving towards you. Maybe I'm just seeing things, you thought.

"Gene," your voice is barely above a whisper, the words struggling to come out. The wind blows harder this time, the sheets floating through the air almost horizontal this time, and that's when you see all of him. The black shoes, the dark green pants, and coat, with a hat to match. He looks so different but just the same, all at the same time. His skin is tan, his shoulders are broader, and he stands taller than before. He makes his way to you, your breathing uneven, your hands shaking. Please don't be a dream, if it is, so help me God. Eugene stands a few feet from you now, that smile that you love so much appearing on his lips. You didn't think your heart could beat any quicker, but, oh boy, weren't you wrong.

"My mother tells me that I'd be able to find the prettiest girl in Mobile out here, you wouldn't happen to know her would ya?"

His voice was slightly deeper, rougher but it sends waves of comfort through you. A smile broke out on your face, a faint blush covering your cheeks. Before you knew it, your body lurched towards Eugene's and you had wrapped your arms around him in a hug. Tears rolled down your cheeks as Eugene gently pulled your head from his neck, using his thumbs to wipe the tears. "Don't waste those tears on me, I'm home now. You don't have to worry anymore darlin'."

"Ya know, Mitch Haygood kept asking me on a date at least once a month while you were gone, he made the mistake of catching me out with your mother about six months ago. Let's just say, he never asked again," you both broke out into giggles, both knowing how Eugene's mother can be.

"I'm glad she handled it so I wouldn't have to go give him a talking to when I got back. Can't have anyone stealing my girl when I'm away," Eugene replied looking down at you. He simply held you there after he spoke, just looking at you. His hands were cupped around your cheeks and jaw, his thumbs brushing your cheekbones. Your hands grip at the uniform cinched at his waist. His tongue reached out to quickly swipe across his lips. You hadn't kissed those lips in four years, and if you didn't soon you felt like your heart was going to jump out of your chest.

"You better kiss me, Eugene Sledge, before I go calling Mitch Haygood."

With a crack of that beautiful smile and a small rumble in his chest, Eugene replied, "Don't have to tell me twice, sweetheart."

#eugene sledge #eugene sledge x reader #the pacific #new writer #eugene sledge one shot #eugene sledge imagine #eugene sledge imagines #eugene #sledge #sledgehammer imagines #eugene sledgehammer sledge

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vagabondpainter-blog · 5 years

Text

Catching up

It all is so far away now, counted as well in days as in weeks, in kilometers, in miles or in impressions, in encounters and insights, or measured by fruitless attempts to write this blog.

To catch up while still keeping this Text readable, I will shorten things, I will have to be unjust.

The people I met, friends I visited, friends I found, even strangers who gave advice or help before quickly disappearing again along the ever winding road, they all deserved more words of gratitude, the landscapes I've seen, the early morning mists, birdsong, rough hills and gentle streams, they are all worthy of poems, paintings, and some day hopefully I will find the rest to praise them rightly.

And about people, about friends: I will not talk in depth about them here, maybe some of the closest not even talk about at all or just mention briefly. That is because trust and friendship are sacred, I don't want anyone to have to worry about being displayed and evaluated here, or conversations being put on public display. That's why my tale will sound probably egocentric at times. Besides some points I take out of conversations I'm determined to keep this a blog only about the experiences and lessons I came across, to share and hopefully inspire, but leave people their privacy.

So informations about others I'll keep vague and brief except for some relevant points now and then if they are required as context.

For now it's these fragments, learned lessons and impressions:

1] The Kindness Of Strangers

The boat leaves in the late afternoon, yet I'm here already. It wasn't easy to say goodbye to friends. Its the moment when you painfully realize what you leave behind before you find the courage to let things go and to jump into an uncertain future. I'm grateful that there have been friends to be missed, friends waving when I left and many people, places and memories to cherish, so rather say 'Thank you' than 'Good bye'.

Now I'm here, not sure how to store a bicycle on the ferry, what to do and where to go. A fellow cyclist reassures me that everything will be ok and shows how to secure the bicycle before we part and enter the huts.

It is a smooth sailing on calm waters. I take position on the south side and watch, watch how Ijmuiden floats away, see Zandvoort passing in the distance, let memories rise out of the parting waves until much later the last dim reflection of the sun is swallowed by the darkness of the water.

Next morning I watch the sunrise from the front-deck before later slowly the shore of Britain appears on the horizon.

Back in the belly of the ship, bicycle is packed and we wait for permission to get on land. My fellow cyclist is here again and we find out that we worked in the same field, be it in different positions, until lately when I quit my job. Healthcare in general, and psychiatry in particular seems to struggle with the same problems on both sides of the water- lack of resources combined with an abundance of expectations and many self-declared specialists eagerly waiting on the sidelines to tell you how exactly you should do your job. I don't regret my step.

Soon we change the subject, talk about more uplifting things, like freedom, travels, cycling and living life.

I'm glad he offers to accompany me for the first few miles, show me the way and help me get accustomed to cycling on the left side of the road.

While traveling the shore, he realizes that my journey later would take me along the A1, the most dangerous and deadly road of Britain. Plans change and a bit later I find myself in a nice cozy house, greeted by a friendly dog. The family is gathered now, they brought dutch scones and there I am, arrived in Britain, eating dutch bread and being made welcome.. and grateful.

Later they even offer me a lift along the A1 so I can continue my journey quite a few miles north on a safe bicycle path.

Actually- actually I made a promise to myself when I gave up my home- to leave every place I visit a little bit nicer, tidier or kinder then I found it, be it a small bit within my powers only.

Yet here I am, receiving all this kindness and struggling to find a way to give a tiny thing at least.

A small contribution I might be able to make after all- the lady of the house is an artist and I hope to come back and spend some time, exchanging tips and knowledge about painting.

It won't really be able to repay the welcome, they didn't know how much it meant- this first encounter on the new path, a sense of home in the world out there.

2] Of Hunters, Vegans, Spiders, Flies, and Shamans too

For my first working assignment I arrive one or two days late.

The bicycle paths in Britain are made for leisure, not for means of transportation, to get from A to B, you sometimes get sent along the beautiful yet rough and rocky road uphill through E to G.

In the morning my host comes to town to give me a lift uphill so I don't need to climb up to the cottage. We soon find out a difference in lifestyle, that either might lead to conflict or to very interesting talks-

While I myself took up a vow years ago to restrain from eating or even using animal products, he is an outspoken and passionate hunter and skillful hunting guide.

Greeted by a friendly dog and a flock of even friendlier chickens I put up my hammock next to a cottage that has seen many years, some of them hard, now regaining its beauty under its tenants committed work.

Not only the growing vegetables outside provide some common ground to get along, we soon find out, as the Zen master Thich Nhat Hanh once said: “If you wish to be understood, you should listen very carefully”

I put aside any prejudice and get a chance to actually learn- a hunter may just as much care about nature and all life in it as the convinced vegan.. not every hunter of course, some are in it for profit just as some vegans are in it for pride.

Those others, those on both sides who actually do care, more and more appear to me as devoted parents arguing about the best cure for their sick child. Later I will briefly encounter a native American shaman and will have to realize that those revered ancient cultures are hunters too.

And when I rescue a little spider after that the other day, it strikes me, how many other insects I might have sent to certain death by saving this one predator...

In the end it seems that our technological power has by far outgrown our human wisdom and it's estrangement from nature what deceives us to take extreme positions- on one side some are abusing sensible, breathing, childbearing live as if it where an industrial product, which makes us a parasite in the organs of life, while on the other side we might not interfere when necessary and so get complicit in catastrophes out of fear of causing individual harm, which is neglect of our responsibilities as intelligent life form.

Life is sustained by devouring itself in any form. In the complex web of interdependence I will continue to avoid harm, but I also learned to judge less those who are willing to intervene, it's the caring about nature, the respecting of life and the willingness to learn about them, what defines whether our actions are righteous and wise, there is not one answer that fits all circumstances.

3] Anam Cara

The path up north led me through the green hills of a land where all the places sound like echoes of long forgotten songs and ancient tales.

Shelters where ready, arranged by friends of a friend, all without expecting anything in return, just out of kindness, setup in beautiful places, the shore of a river, a comfortable trailer in a wide meadow with view on the distant chain of snowy hills, hosts welcoming the traveler, helping and showing me around, and I had to learn that sometimes all one has to offer in return is humble gratitude.

What a strange and beautiful paradise waits in the hills behind Inverness. Anam Cara is the retreat center I work and paint for here.

Lodges and huts are made of timber, stone, from large barrels and from caravans..

I sometimes get lost on the terrain, nothing here is put in a straight line, everything has grown naturally accordingly to the apparent conditions at the time.

It's a place just like its founders and inhabitants, a marriage of Buddhist Dharma and shamanic teachings, enforcing and helping each other by aiming at the same goal from different angles in perfect eclectic harmony.

4] Of Tunnels and Light

At Scottish Borders it is. We follow the shore along the stream, up in the hills, where a long abandoned railroad left its trail, and a tunnel between the trees.

Here, our kind host and guide tells us, many found an experience of transformation.

On a dark day in his life he decided for the first time to go inside.

With the courage of despair he had entered and faced inside this darkness that other darkness which at the time needed to be released. On the other side of the tunnel the light that welcomed him brought the beginning of the change to the better.

We are glad he 's willing to share the experience and I opt for walking first.

Beforehand it all sounded quite easy, just going inside the darkness alone without light and walking through, blindly, until the eyes capture a dim light from the other side.

Now in front of the big black hole amongst the green I doubt for a moment whether I really want to go in.

Threads of fog, hovering at the entrance, weave a mystical web. A chilly breeze greets me as if it where the breath of the earth.

One of the dogs accompanied me on my first steps towards the huge mouth that will swallow me in a moment, and for some time I have the impression the dog is still with me in the dark. I hear my own footsteps and feel this other presence right behind me. Later I learn the dog left me at the entrance already...

Once the darkness surrounds me completely and I should probably feel lost in the void, a deep calm sense of serene silence comes over me, a trust that whatever happens here, is supposed to be and is just perfect as it is. I wander in the timeless spaciousness, listening to my ever slower footsteps.

There is no hurry, no need anymore to get anywhere. While the feet calmly keep going I suddenly loose all intention to either stay or leave. Everything is just about now and now is exactly, perfectly well as it has to be.

Maybe due to a lack of external input, the sense of self dissolves into the black empty space and only a floating undefined feeling of wideness and joy vibrates on.

The first glimpse of light some time later doesn't seduce me to rush, I could just as well stay here, in this very moment for eternity, yet I keep moving.

Never thought the greens of the trees and the grasses, the gentle mos could look as vibrant and intense as they appear while I leave the tunnel. It rather seems, I'm watching the surroundings steadily passing by, then moving myself.

I enjoy the forest with a joy I haven't known so far- like a child looking at trees and clouds and pebbles for the first time ever. I keep walking and keep looking, perceiving without judgment, without naming, without wanting, only looking, smelling, listening, just sensing the stream of impressions calmly arising and taking course.

And I know that nothing ever will be the same, also know now that nothing ever has been the same before. It's freedom to ride on the stream of ever changing appearances without grasping or rejecting, I heard of that, I knew it, could have said these words any time, yet now the tunnel showed that truth in a way, so that I actually could see it too .

5] What is Home?

Back in the Netherlands, coming home from being home, not sure how and why I would deserve this. It must be a natural human kindness I didn't notice before that strongly. Now when I need it, there are friends to let me stay in their place, people offering shelter without expecting anything. I visit friends, I'm humbled and touched by all generosity, and I suspect I might know now, why in some lineages Buddhist monks are obliged to beg for their food- it's only when you depend on others in a way, that you get a chance to realize that, contrary to what the news might tell, human is in essence a very kind and giving being.

I have, for now, just to practice in gratitude to hopefully some day be able to give back.

6] Cow-dung is not Bullshit

Cycling in Germany is a challenge, most roads are forbidden for cyclists, they send you along long winding tracks and don't care to close a path without alternative.

After days of sweating under threatening thunderclouds, in heat, having my navigation gone with the broken phone, getting lost in unknown places, climbing hills without knowing where I am and how to get on, I arrive, days late again.

Now I work at the Schwäbische Alb, there's a small Village on top of a hill and I live here, take care of the garden and paint the portals, just paint, nothing artsy :) but besides being invited to feel at home and greatly being cared for, its my first real encounter with alternative building and painting materials what makes it extra special to be here.

The paint is the etching, burning, kind of chalk that was used for centuries here, but the main lesson is a little building project inside the large shed, a storage room made from clay and dry cow-dung.

I learn from mistakes and from what went well, getting an idea to – one day, some day, after the journeys – maybe build my own alternative home based on experiences and learning ahead.

7] The naked Truth

One more fragment, one I doubted if it was ok to tell, but decided that it should not matter if people think I'm weird, I'm a fifty years old guy giving up a comfortable stable life to cycle around and work without predictable income, not even a pension-plan. I AM weird probably and as long as no one gets hurt I'm free to be as strange as I choose to be.

It's the evening of a hard and hot day, the sun burned my skin dark red and any sweat from cycling uphill dried quickly without cooling me off. I finally find a great spot to spend the night, near a small town or village, but out in the green, well hidden and comfortable.

Before I rest I need to refill my water-supplies and rehydrate myself, also the new used phone I was lucky to receive, does act up, the batteries run quickly, didn't recharge anymore and I want to give it one more try.

It's good as well, to check the vibes of the area, to know the territory and get familiar with the place.

So instead of getting ready for the night I enter the place for a drink and general recharging in the local pizzeria. I'm the only customer inside. The friendly owner refills the bottles and tries to help me with the phone. After a tough day through the hills in merciless heat I enjoy talking to someone before I get back out into the fields. Yet when I tell about the travels and my new life, he offers me to seek shelter at the small terrace next to the house where the guests sit in daytime. It's right at the fairly busy street, surrounded by houses and I'd like my first shelter more, but there are two good reasons to gratefully except the offer- one, it is an act of kindness and that counts more then comfort, two, I slept in fields and woods, in trailers, tents and under bridges, but never in the open air in the middle of a town.

So I set up my shelter, sleeping bag as isolation and the raintarp as cover on one side tied to the fence, the other attached to the bicycle.

A thin tarp provides the illusion of privacy and I lay down in the noise of passing cars and voices on the street.

Now the overheated body starts boiling and burning, however I move or turn, a layer of inescapable

fire keeps me awake. Everything I wear sticks to the skin. Half asleep and half in fever I guess, I remove it all.

A gentle nightly breeze cools me off and sings me to sleep. While I see the stars through the fence it occurs to me, that whoever would find me here, would think I was drunk or crazy. Laying there amongst all cozy houses, bare and naked, not showered for days, hair and beard growing wildly I have finally become a drifter.

And then the image comes before my minds eye, of me laying there, bare of any sign of social status or role, looking like an abandoned corpse, but there is no shame, no fear, only deep calm peace and freedom.

That takes me back into the tunnel. It's the same sense of serenity, nothing to achieve, nothing to loose, nothing to be done, only being.

I will loose this peace of mind again on several occasions, when the wind stands against me, when I loose direction, when I set up goals, but there are more and more times of this deep relaxing equanimity, the acceptance of whatever might be.

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