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slothquisitor · 2 months

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What Moves in the Dark: Chapter Six

A post-campaign Baldur's Gate 3 eldritch horror AU.

Chapter Summary: Listen, we all weathered the horror of the last chapter with laudable composure, so I think we deserve a cozier chapter entirely from Astarion's POV.

Read from the beginning.

Read on AO3.

Astarion isn’t sure how much time has passed in Liv’s tiny apartment, but it hasn’t been unpleasant. It’s a bit of a novelty to be welcomed into someone’s home at all. No part of him wanted to be alone out in the city after the horror they’d seen, and while he’s pretty sure there aren't any answers in the books in her apartment, it is a comfort to pretend there might be, that they might solve this with wits and cleverness alone. They won’t, but he has always been very good at indulging other peoples’ fantasies.

So he’s not sure if it’s an act of meanness or boredom that gets him to break the silence, to call them both out on the lie. “You don’t really believe that you just so happen to have the answer to this mystery within your little library, do you?”

Liv is still at the table, several books spread out before her, but he’d retreated to the comfortable chair nearer the bookshelf. Even from here, he can see the tiredness in her eyes. She should sleep, but he suspects that she couldn’t even if she tried. He suspects a lot of things about this…about whatever the hell they’re doing or why he’s still here. He’s just not sure he’s ready to put a name to any of them.

“Probably not, but it was something that we could do right now…” She runs a hand down her face. “I don’t know. Is this how it feels?”

“How what feels?”

“Solving problems…saving people?”

He laughs. “There’s usually fewer books involved or at least in my adventures there were fewer books. The seeing things you don’t understand and being scared shitless bit is familiar though.”

“How did you end up saving the world in the first place? Forgive me, but you don’t really seem the heroic type.”

“You’re just now figuring that out, darling?” The smile he gives her is genuine. “If you must know, I didn’t really have a choice.”

Their victory over the Absolute is only a few tendays old, but already there are many stories circulating in taverns and through the broadsheets. There’s even a kernel of truth to most of them, but in every iteration he’s ever seen, they always fail to capture the truth of it. The pieces that actually mattered. The stories always omit the fear, the stumbling, the quieter moments. He supposes that those things aren’t what makes the stories interesting to everyone else, but those are the ones he remembers and misses most. Not the Netherbrain dropping from the sky, but instead their group huddled around a campfire in the Shadowlands, Karlach telling jokes to keep the shadows at bay. Or the way no one in their group talked to him after defeating Cazador, had instead walked close to him as they exited the palace. No, those are the stories that only they know.

So he tells her his, most of it anyway. About those first terrifying days, looking over his shoulder for Cazador, killing the Gur hunter in the swamp, drinking Tavren’s blood. He tells her how much he resented Tavren at first, though he leaves out his doomed plan to seduce them. Doesn’t tell her anything about his manipulations or why he felt he needed them in the first place. He feels like if he did the shame might swallow him whole. But he does tell her of his slow commitment to the cause, to taking out the Absolute despite his initial hopes to take it over instead. He tells her of Tavren’s commitment to killing Cazador, to helping him despite the fact it did nothing for the larger cause, so that she can understand that he saved the world not because he cared if it burned but because Tavren did.

Liv listens with that steady gaze of hers, forest dark eyes and something like understanding shifting in their depths. She only interrupts him to ask a question here or there but seems content to simply let him talk, and there’s something intoxicating about having her undivided attention. The more he gets of it, the more he wants, but eventually, the story does come to an end, and he wishes he had more to tell her that didn’t involve two centuries of pain. Because he hasn’t touched that. Doesn’t want to.

The question Liv asks at the end of his telling is tentative, laced with genuine curiosity, and not a hint of judgment. It absolutely not what he is expecting. “So why help me then if you’re not a hero?”

That is the question, isn’t it? “Because Tavren would have.” And he’s not in love with Tavren nor does he want to be them, but saying no, looking away from something like this feels like a betrayal of the kindness and friendship they’d offered him. He’s still not sure what it is he believes in, but he does know that if he ever sees Tavren again he wants to be able to say he’s done something worthwhile.

Helping Liv doesn’t feel like the wrong thing. Besides, a blood disease or creature tainting the blood of those in Baldur’s Gate threatens his food supply, so he’s really helping out of pure self-interest.

“It sounds like you care a lot for Tavren.”

“Hard not to. I’ve never met anyone quite like them. They made us all better, even Wyll and Karlach who were already wonderful. That’s probably why they all went to Avernus together. If I was Zariel, I’d be terrified of those three.”

“Do you think they’ll ever come back?”

“I hope so, for Karlach’s sake. She didn’t want to be damned to the hells for the rest of her life, but they’re together, and I think they’re all happy.”

“And what about you?”

“What about me?”

Liv runs her fingers along the woodgrain of the table, seems to consider a question a moment before finally asking it. “Are you happy?”

“Of course I’m happy. Why wouldn’t I be happy?”

“It just seems like everyone else triumphed, but you were the only one who lost something by defeating the Absolute.”

And there it is again, her insistence that he’s lost something, that he has somehow come out less than. But the words are offered in softness, like an apology, and he refrains from snarling her. “What do you mean?” he asks instead, words clipped, impatient.

“The tadpole gave you power…freedom from your master, the ability to walk in the sun, but you gave it all up.”

She has no idea what he gave up. “I did.”

“Sounds pretty heroic to me,” she says with a shrug. As if anything could ever be as simple as that.

And maybe it is, maybe it isn’t, but he thinks that it might be enough that she thinks so. He can feel the way he’s dismantled so many of the barriers between them through the telling of this story, there’s….an understanding between them. An honesty. He’s wondering what might happen if he were to flirt with her now, if she’d continue to sidestep the attention, or if she’d entertain it or even flirt back. He’s wondering what he’d prefer when the sound of the bell downstairs makes them both jump.

Liv’s eyes meet his for a moment in space, wide with surprise. “Shit. Kharis is early,” Liv whispers and rushes to the window, pulling open the curtains. The sky is filled with light blue promise, dawn isn’t far off. And like a fool, he hadn’t even paid attention. There’s no way he’ll make it to Ramazith’s Tower in time.

He blames her for this. If it hadn’t been for her questions and her attention he wouldn’t have missed how close the sun was to rising and he would have left an hour ago. “I need to go.”

“Alright, I’ll distract Kharis and you can do that sort of disappearing thing you did earlier and sneak out the front.”

“Great plan, only I can’t do that again until I rest,” he whispers back waspishly. “You’re a wizard, can’t you make me invisible or something?”

She shakes her head. “It’s not a spell I prepared to cast today.”

“Oh for gods’ sake. What is it you do when you have lovers here and Kharis shows up?”��

Her cheeks go a lovely shade of red, but she doesn’t shrink before him. “It’s never been an issue before now.”

He files that particular piece of information away for later needling and sighs. “It’s too late anyway; I’ll never make it to the Upper City in time.”

She looks even more concerned now. “So, what, you’re just trapped here?”

“Unless you plan on kicking me out. My other options are waiting in some alleyway or hoping I can escape down into the sewers until the sun sets.” This whole thing is dredging up memories of times he didn’t make it back to Szarr Palace in time, to lashings and tortures, and it takes more energy than he’d like to remember that nothing will happen to him if he stays here today. Well, assuming Kharis doesn’t realize he’s here anyway.

“Well, I’m not going to make you wait in the sewers when you can just stay here,” Liv says with finality.

“I appreciate that.”

“You’ll have to be quiet otherwise Kharis will realize someone is up here.”

He grins widely. “Darling, trust me, I can be discreet.”

She runs a hand down her face, and he realizes just how tired she looks. “Alright. I’m going to head down to work, really sell the whole, ‘I didn’t sleep all night let’s close up early’ bit.”

“You’re going to work? You didn’t sleep, and I’m just supposed to be up here all on my own all day long?”

“It’s weird, but my job is still a thing I have to do whether I sleep or not. Kharis will be fine with me closing up early though. Just, please stay quiet. I would love not to get fired and kicked out of my home because I’m harboring a vampire.”

“I’ll be silent as the grave,” he says with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

She shakes her head, but there’s clear amusement in her small smile before she disappears down the stairs without another word. With Liv gone, he feels that he can finally study her space without interruption. He’s struck again by the smallness of it. It’s neat and tidy, everything seems to have its place. Her books are the place where the most clutter lives, and he realizes now that the claustrophobic nature of the shop isn’t her doing, but Kharis’.

He absolutely shouldn’t, but he pokes around her things anyway. He looks through her drawers, opens up the cupboards, and tries to understand who this woman really is. He secretly hopes to find some secret drawer somewhere filled with unmentionables, it’s always the quiet ones that surprise you, but she doesn’t own anything even marginally embarrassing. She’s so boring is disappointing. If he’s going to be trapped up here all day he should at least be finding something he can torture her with later, or at least coax another one of those lovely blushes out of her.

It’s in her desk drawer that he finds it: a nondescript book, covered in gray cloth. He’s pretty sure it’s a diary or a journal, so he settles into the chair, ready to read it and finally know her innermost thoughts. Only when he opens it, it’s not a diary at all. It’s a fucking sketchbook. The first few pages are rough, with more shapes than anything really discernable, and then there are people and scenes and places he recognizes. On one page there’s the fountain and square in front of Sorcerous Sundries. Basilisk Gate. The bow of the Blushing Mermaid. They’re not perfect, but they’re good.

Suddenly, a piece of her slots into place: she’s an artist.

Which doesn’t make a lot of sense. Liv is a wizard who spends her days in an alchemy shop and her nights combing the city for people with strange blood. For all he’s shared with her, she’s been surprisingly tight-lipped about her own past. He’s not sure if it’s because she’s actually tight-lipped or if he’s just been an ass and not asked her enough questions. It shouldn’t matter, they’re just strange allies in this adventure they’ve both committed themselves to, but it doesn’t stop him from feeling like there’s something he’s missing.

Which reminds him of the feeling of being watched he’d noticed when they’d returned to the shop. He quietly pads toward the window and carefully peels back the curtain, avoiding the daylight that streams in. He watches the street for a long while for a lack of anything better to do. Eventually, he notices a man loitering on the street. He’s dressed too well to be a beggar, but he’s playing the part well, looking just busy enough that people don’t pay him any mind, but not too busy that it isn’t clear that he’s watching the shop. There’s any number of reasons in this part of town that someone might be watching the shop. They might even be employed by Kharis, for all Astarion knows, but he makes a note to keep an eye on it.

The hours crawl by. He wastes time looking through her sketches and paging through her books and generally trying to learn her through her objects. There’s startingly little he gleans. In fact, beyond the books, it’s hard to see her in anything in this space. It all adds to the puzzle that is Liv. Where did she come from that she brought so little with her? She seems to be a woman without a past, or at least without one she’s sharing with him.

Eventually, he does decide he needs rest, so he plucks a pillow off her bed and a blanket from where it’s draped over the chair and sets up what is certainly not the most depressing bed he’s ever rested in, but is still sad. The pillow smells like her, all warm florals and hints of amber. He does his best to ignore it, slipping into a dreamless reverie. But when he does wake, disoriented and unsure of his surroundings for a moment, no nightmares have overtaken him. He adds the success to his mental tally, as if waking up each day without an immediate reminder of his past is some game he can win.

He returns the pillow to Liv’s bed, hoping his scent isn’t lingering on it like hers is. Some part of him is embarrassed by the thought he might leave something behind here. He helps himself to some more of the whiskey she’d gotten out earlier and wishes he had blood. And then he settles back into the chair with a book, a well-loved copy of an adventure story he hasn’t read in years.

It’s early afternoon when he hears Liv’s footsteps making their way up the stairs outside the apartment. He throws a proprietary glance around the space he’s learned so well over the last few hours, notices all the ways it’s clear he’s been poking around it, and then decides he doesn’t care.

There is exhaustion in every line of Liv’s body. Her face is pale and the lines beneath her eyes look like bruises. She’s putting a good effort into looking unaffected, but it’s not really working.

“How was work, darling?” he asks, words tilted into a tease.

“I blame you for this,” she says around a yawn.

He examines his nails with a wide grin. “I have been known to be the reason people get less than an adequate amount of sleep. Though they do tend to be a tad more complimentary about it.”

As always, she sidesteps his flirting. “Were you comfortable enough up here?”

Since he can’t seem to elicit a reaction with flirting, he tries another tactic. “Oh yes, though you didn’t tell me you were an artist.”

Her head snaps to the desk and the sketchbook lying on top of it instead of tucked away in the drawer. For a moment, he wonders if he’s actually succeeded in making her angry, but instead, he watches the exhaustion win out. “I suppose it was too much to hope for that you wouldn’t go through every single one of my things.”

He’s not sorry. “I had hours and hours with naught to entertain myself. So, you’re an artist.”

She strides over to the desk and puts the sketchbook back inside the drawer though he’s not sure what she thinks she’s accomplishing by hiding it away now. “I’m not an artist.”

“Sure you are,” he replies. “You’re pretty good too.”

“It’s just a hobby. Nothing more.”

“Oh don’t be obtuse. It’s clearly important to you. Why else would you hide your little sketchbook away?”

She shakes her head. “I’m a wizard, Astarion. I was raised to be good at one thing: magic. Creative pursuits were considered distractions. It’s just a hobby and that’s all it will ever be.”

“Whoever told you that was wrong. Was it your family? You said -”

She looks almost near tears when she looks at him. “Stop. I have been awake since yesterday morning, and I do not want to have this conversation. I need to sleep for at least a few hours, and then you can pester me about everything you managed to snoop through in my apartment.”

He’d wanted to touch a nerve, but not like this. “My apologies. Please, go rest.”

She disappears behind the screen she’s put up which obscures the bed from his view. He can hear the rustle of fabric as she changes her clothes, and later her soft breathing as she sleeps. When she falls asleep, he knows that it’s more out of exhaustion than any real trust, but for some reason, he wants to deserve it anyway.

Sunset comes and goes, and he hears the soft jangling of the bell that signals Kharis’ exit. He thinks about waking her up before he goes, but he’s not sure what it would serve beyond his own selfishness. She needs more than a handful of hours worth of rest, and their next lead is one he must pursue alone.

So he writes her a note, leaves it on her table, and disappears out into the night. Like he was always meant to.

But he is not alone, or at least that ever-persistent feeling he’s being watched is back again. A glance up the street reveals nothing, but he remembers the man from earlier and wonders if it’s connected. Well, he can be sneaky too. He walks away, as if he is leaving this street, but ducks down an alleyway at the first opportunity, fading into the shadows and creeping around the backside of the buildings that sit across from the shop.

It doesn’t take long to find who is watching the shop. There’s a man tucked in an alcove, all but invisible from the street, but with a clear line of sight to the shop. Astarion recognizes the man’s build and cloak as the same he’d noticed earlier. He sneaks closer, emerging from the shadows, lightning quick, and grasps the man by collar. He hauls him back into the alley, a hand covering his mouth. The man’s eyes are wide with surprise and his blood is rich with fear in a way that makes Astarion’s gums ache. But that’s not why he’s got this man pressed up against a wall in an alley.

“Shhhhshhhshhh, not a sound,” he says, words quiet as a whisper and twice as sharp. “Do you know who I am? Nod.”

The man eagerly nods his affirmation.

“Good. That means you know I don’t need my daggers to rip your throat out. You’re going to tell me why you’ve been watching that shop. If you scream, I will kill you.” Astarion removes his hand from the man’s mouth just a fraction, just enough that he can speak.

“Please don’t kill me. We’re on the same side of things, I promise,” the man stammers around panicked breaths.

Astarion can’t help but laugh. “I very much doubt that.”

The man leans away from him as if he could simply disappear into the wall itself. “I’m just here on Guild business.”

Another Guild connection? “Guild business?”

The man nods. “Yes. Yes. Orders came direct from the Guildmaster’s inner circle.”

“What orders?” Astarion hisses.

The man blanches. “I’m not allowed to say.”

Astarion presses the man more firmly into the wall and flashes his fangs just so. The man’s eyes widen. “Uh…we’re just supposed to watch the shop.”

“Why?”

The man shakes his head nervously. “I don’t know, but probably because they help our people. One of my mates got sliced up in a fight a few months back, but the blade was coated in poison, and that woman and the dwarf, they fixed him right up. No questions asked. Figured they’re an asset and that's why we’re watching. It’s not uncommon. The Guild protects its own and all that.”

The man is rambling. “How long have you been watching?”

“Me personally? A few tendays, but uh…my mate’s been on this assignment for at least six months. It’s boring as hell, but was pretty safe when all that shit with the Stone Lord was going down, you know?”

There’s no lie in the man’s words, so Astarion releases him. He slides down the wall gracelessly. “So you just watch the shop? Watch it for what?”

“Signs of trouble. We’re supposed to report back on who’s coming and going. Nocturnal visitors,” the man says with a hint of innuendo. When Astarion glares at him he coughs. “Anyway, we’re just trying to keep the shop safe and all.”

“Get back to work then,” Astarion says, and then stalks away into the night, carrying far more questions than answers.

#astarion #astarion x tav #tavstarion #astarion bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #astarion x liv #what moves in the dark #slothquisitorwrites

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octoberink · 4 years

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A Game Of- Part 2

She knew she was awake. Which meant she was alive. For now. Her head throbbed as her brain slowly woke up from it’s forced slumber. Her limbs felt heavy. Her entire body was sore. She remembered everything. The rats. The woods. The giant cat.

She recalled seeing the rats leave as the giant feline had ordered. She had to assume that wherever she was, it was most likely in his clutches. He was probably watching her. Waiting for her to wake up so that he could have the proper chase he wanted. To play with his food before he finally consumed her.

The thought sent shivers up her spine. She suddenly felt the need to survive. To run from this danger she had gotten herself into. The moment her ears twitched, she flinched at the zap of pain in her head. That’s right. Those cruel brutes bashed her into that brick. Twice.

She decided to try and open her eyes. She had to blink a few times to clear her blurry vision. Even then, everything felt distorted. Surreal. The way her body begged her to just rest and stay still. Her head giving her the feeling it was about to implode. And her heart returned to it’s fearful pounding against her chest.

She ignored the way her skull practically screamed when she managed to lift her head. She swayed a bit as she lifted herself up on shaky arms. Her deep blue gaze tried too hard to understand what they were seeing. It was hard to make out. She noticed a wall of fabric to her right. Cushions. They were couch cushions. She was on a massive couch. She glanced around at the enormous living room that expanded before her. It was alarming. Overwhelming at first. But she soon reconciled that she was in a new world of giant felines, after all. Such a place was to be expected.

It was dark outside of the windows. Night had arrived. How long had she been out? The room was lit by a single lamp, and a sweet-smelling candle on a bookshelf next to the window. It brought a soft, warm atmosphere to spite the fear and anxiety she was going through.

She looked down to see she was on a soft pillow. It was enormous. It must be his. At the thought of his smug grin, she felt her stomach roll with dread. She needed to get out of here. She had no idea where he was, but since he wasn’t here at the moment, this was her best shot to escape.

It took a few tries, but she managed to stand on wobbly legs before carefully sliding off of the pillow. She noticed that the floor beneath her feet was also soft. Covered neatly with a giant, thick blanket over the plush cushions. She looked around, unsure of how to leave. Her eye caught sight of a small hole in the trim at the base of one of his walls. She could get through that. No problem. But as much as she wanted to run and jump, her legs wouldn’t let her. She would take a few steps, and simply collapse on her knees as her head swam. She fought off the urge to sleep over and over. The more she did, the more nauseous she felt.

Her body was doing everything in its power to bring her to her doom.

“Stupid body,” she grumbled to herself. Frustration slowly took over the fear she was feeling. “Come on, legs. Work.”

She stood up. And immediately fell to the plush ground, once again. She gave up. She was exhausted. In pain. Afraid. This was her end. How she died. At the hands of a cat. Although, if she were honest with herself, she’d rather have it be like this than tortured for who knows how long only for the rats to kill her anyway. If she was lucky, this cat wouldn’t play with her pathetic self for too long.

She then felt the smallest trembles vibrate the couch beneath her. He was back. This was it. As scared as she was, she just wanted this to be over with. She was tired. And in no mood for his games. Please, end it quickly, she prayed to herself.

“Well, you didn’t get very far,” his voice was laced with amusement.

Her stomach dropped at the way he spoke to her. No sympathy, or concern for her exhausted state. This would be a gruesome death, she was sure of it. She heard him sigh at the same moment the entire world seemed to shake as he casually collapsed on his couch, opposite of her position.

There was a tiny pinch that greeted the end of her tail. Just as she realized what was about to occur, she felt her entire body slowly snake among the blanket beneath her before it disappeared altogether. The height was bad enough, but with the pain that traveled down her tail right to her spine was what truly startled her.

She cried out at the truly bizarre and painful sensation before his enormous face suddenly appeared. Right below her dangling body. She struggled at first, turning every-which-way to get to his fingers that snatched her up, but she knew it was completely pointless. She was hanging over her doom. Her end.

And unfortunately for her, he didn’t seem to be in a rush to eat her. He simply stared, his golden eyes observing her face and eyes. He smirked at her. “So, what’s a little pipsqueak like you doing in my woods?” he murmured. “You got a death wish or something?”

She didn’t know what to say. What could she say? He wouldn’t understand her struggle to survive. To be free. What she would do to keep her people safe. When he moved his arm to get her closer to his face, she squeezed her eyes shut. This was it. It was happening.

“Can’t you talk?” he asked.

She opened her eyes again to see him watching her closely. He cocked a brow at her silence before he hummed.

“They must’ve hit you harder than I thought,” he muttered. “Dirty rats.”

So they agreed on something. Maybe she could use that to her advantage. She nervously swallowed to give him a clear voice. “I h—” she paused to swallow again. “I h-hate them.”

His eyes suddenly lit up at her voice. She didn’t miss the way his large, black pupils dilated a bit as he brought her even closer to his face. The pain in her back was driving her crazy, causing her to struggle a little. The fear churned her gut with worry.

“Well, what do you know,” he smiled. “She can talk. So, tell me something, mousey,” he began. “Didn’t your parents ever teach you about manners?”

Manners? Where was he going with this? Was he going to do her a merciful service and not play with his food? Would he just straight-up eat her like a good-mannered kitty cat? She only continued to stare at him in confusion as he sighed with a playful roll of his eyes.

“I mean,” he shrugged, swaying her world into small circles. “Letting you sleep on my couch is one thing. But saving your life is another. From what I’ve been told, when someone does something nice for you, you say thank you.”

His voice betrayed the teasing tone of his words. He wasn’t being a hundred percent serious. But she could tell he wanted her to say something about his apparent-heroic actions. She felt her confusion melt into a sudden sense of defiance.

“Y-you want me to thank you?” she dared to ask. The look on his smug features didn’t waver. She’d had enough. She was in a ridiculous amount of pain, her head was still swimming, and it didn’t help that she was dangling and swinging over his face. Right over his mouth, in fact. She’d had enough. She wanted him to get angry. To just kill her already. “Why would I thank you for saving my life when you’re just going to eat me anyway?” she bravely raised her voice.

The moment he started laughing, the world around her harshly jerked and twirled with his convulsive movements. She closed her eyes, and tried to ignore the nausea climbing into her belly. When he finally stopped, she looked at him again to see his cheeks glow a soft shade of pink.

He chuckled again, shaking his head. “Wow,” he huffed. “I haven’t laughed like that in a long time, pipsqueak. Thanks for that. It felt good.” He paused, smirking at her confused expression. “Look, I may get hungry, but I’d never get that hungry.”

She felt the smallest touch of relief, but quickly pushed it away. It wasn’t time for that just yet. “Then, what?” she pressed. Her tail was going numb. “You’re just going to hunt me down and kill me for fun? Throw me up in the air, and watch me break over and over?” she couldn’t stop the words. The fear had shifted from defiance to something new. There was sorrow. A deep heartache that consumed her at how pathetic her existence seemed to this creature. How pointless and meaningless she truly was. Her words continued to overflow as much as the tears that climbed to her eyes. “You’ll just watch me die alone, and in pain? Listen to me cry and beg for mercy?”

Through the blur of her tears she caught the smallest hint of guilt in his golden stare. She reached her hands up to her face to quickly wipe them away, rubbing her eyes as her heart pounded with newfound emotions.

Helpless, she thought. I feel completely and utterly helpless.

“I’m not going to kill you, Mouse.”

She sniffled, removing her shaky hands from her eyes. His expression remained as smug as ever. But his voice had changed. It was soft. Dare she admit, a little reassuring. His gaze was glued to her as he sighed, and lifted a brow at her tears.

“I never know what I’m supposed to do when someone cries,” he went on. “So, please stop.”

She wiped away her remaining tears, feeling pathetic for showing him such weakness. She didn’t even know where all of that came from. It was a brand new feeling for her. A strong one. She tried to put her brave-face back on. “Then, w-what are you going to do to me?”

His smile widened. “Well first,” he started to move again into a seated position. “I’m going to put you down. You’re as red as a tomato.”

She looked down to see his other hand slowly rise up beneath her. He then released her tail, allowing her to plummet into his palm. She slightly struggled to sit up, feeling her back ache from being stuck in that position for so long. The strain on her tail kept it numb for a while. She looked up, feeling alarmed once again by his size. The way he loomed over her. And now she was in his hands. Still at his mercy.

She was lifted to his face so that he could get a closer look. She shied away from his intense stare, backing herself right into his fingers. They slightly curled over her as if to trap her, then bounced back to give her space.

“Now,” he began leaning forward to get comfortable. “I’ve got a few things in mind here. You clearly need protection from those dirty rats. And I could use a roommate.”

Uh oh. A roommate? She didn’t like where this was going. If he wasn’t going to kill her or eat her, then she wanted to find her people. She passed him a look that she hoped would gain his sympathy. “Mr. Cat, that’s very generous of you, but—”

“Jasper,” he corrected. Once again his tone was playful, matching the amused gleam in his golden gaze. “My name is Jasper.”

“Jasper,” she repeated. “I’m sorry. I was on my way to my people. They’re hiding from those rats, and I’m supposed to—” she stopped dead at his face. All amusement had faded. His eyes seeped sorrow and guilt. And his features even turned slightly pale. She didn’t like it at all. Something was wrong. “What?” she whispered. “What is it?”

His golden gaze looked down as he shook his head. His heavy brows furrowed in uncertainty. “After you passed out, another rat showed up to intercept the two that were after you.” His eyes met hers. And she felt her heart break in two at his next words. “He told them that the hideout had been found.”

Her heart stopped. “No...” she breathed in despair. Her mind had gone blank.

“They didn’t leave anyone alive.”

No.

“I’m sorry, Mouse.”

No!

She clutched her aching head and screamed in fury. In sorrow. In loss. It was as if her very heart had shattered in the most painful way possible. Everyone she knew was gone. They had tried so hard. They had worked for so long to finally be free. And now, they’re all gone. Just like that.

And she was alone.

Alive. But alone. She’d rather be dead than be here. Breathing and crying while everyone else was dead. She couldn’t believe it. And for a moment she wondered if this Jasper-guy was lying to her. But what could he possibly gain from doing that? And the look on his face...

No, he had been telling her the truth. She knew that. She could tell.

And she honestly should’ve seen it coming. The rats were smart. Clever. Her people never stood a chance against them. A part of her even wondered if her people were released on purpose. To let the rats hunt. To give them something to do. A challenge.

She shook her head, hoping that their deaths had been quick. That they were all together in a better place than she was. It was all she could hope for in the end. But now she had to figure out what to do with her own life. Where does she go from here? She has nothing. No one.

“Look, uh,” his voice was still soft and gentle. Cautious. “If you need a safe place to stay to process everything, I meant it when I said I could use a roommate.”

She lifted her blue eyes to him. And never once imagined in her lifetime that she would seek some sort of comfort from a cat. She could easily read the sympathy on his face as he watched her sit in his palm and grieve. She needed to figure things out. What to do from here. Where to go.

She gave him a slight nod. “Thank you, Jasper.”

Exhaustion was hitting her again. It was hard to keep her eyes open. Her head was starting to swirl with dizziness. Her head lolled forward before she finally gave in, and laid down in his warm hands. Her cheeks were still wet from her tears, and slightly rosy from being dangled. Her beating heart felt empty at the news of her people’s fate. Would she be next? Could she really trust Jasper to not kill her? Or eat her if he wanted to?

He was a cat after all. Living along here. Cats in that position were known to be easily bored, and always desperate for any kind of excitement.

But he already didn’t seem that way. He looked so relaxed to her. Calm, confident. As if being bored didn’t bother him in the slightest. Like it was something he wanted. That he was happy with. An odd thing to her at first. But she soon wondered if a little boredom was exactly what her life needed for a while.

“What’s your name, mousey?”

The way his quiet voice and warm breath gently washed over her exhausted body finally put her at ease. She mumbled a response as sleep slowly began to consume her.

“What?” he silently breathed.

“Penny,” she whispered. “My name is Penny.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

and there you have it! how Jasper and Penny officially met! these two are so fun to draw and write about!! i hope you all enjoyed this little blurb, more may be on the way, depending on how much time i have lol have a happy sunday! :D

#giant #cat #tiny #mouse #giant/tiny #short #story #part #two #thank u #art #cartoon #artists on tumblr

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drakewalkerfantasy · 3 years

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Consequences: Chapter 1

Synopsis:

Jordan Williams is a former Marine who starts a new life joining Medical school at age of 27.

Rachel Ferguson is a freshly out of college graduate and Medical school 1st year student.

Two complete strangers who fell in bed together for a night of solace from their moment of anger and hurt. By chance, they were brought together and their fates intertwined.

Not realising yet that not only they share the same house, they also share the person they cannot lose no matter what.

What will happen when the reality of the one night’s actions filled with lust and anger will hit them both? What will happen when he will find out that the girl he spent the night with is not only his housemate but also his best friend’s little sister? The one he swore to himself never to touch, the one for whom he will never be good enough. Will he be able to keep his hands off her? Or are they doomed from the beginning?

Words: 3600

Authors notes: Some chapters maybe NSFW or have a mature content

Jordan Williams x Rachel Ferguson (Rae, Rae-Rae)

**Warnings: Alcohol consumption, anger, bad decisions in next chapter.*

Jordan Williams never was the one who scared easily, or backed out of his decision for that matter.

Former Marine, even though his parents didn’t support him or approve of it... the one of the few survivors of his platoon… The hero, who single handedly carried his friends out from the burning hell on Earth not knowing if they were dead or alive. Who by some miracle survived, but was left with the nightmares to remind him of how lucky or cursed he was, and with the ugly scars to never let him forget of the ones who weren’t as fortunate. Limping on his right leg, but at least breathing and moving.

And today even though he still wasn’t scared, he was nervous. This was the last Friday before he was starting his new life. No more deployments. No more deaths, at least not on his watch. And as many lives as he could save after he would learn how to do that. After he would become one of the best surgeons and open the clinic for the people like him, who would survive beating all odds. For Doctors without the borders who wouldn't be scared to help people in the burning hells... who will be ready and willing to help as many dying to survive, be it soldiers or civilians, something that he failed to do then. But damn him, if he wouldn't do it now, after he would learn how to do that.

And he was determined to learn how… nothing and no-one would stop him, that is what he swore to himself that day. That is what kept him going no matter how difficult it was.

Trying to block the nerves raking through him he gripped the steering wheel firmer trying not to think of the only thing that overshadowed his new beginning. Of the fact that the place that he found for the living, was already occupied, which meant that he would have a housemate, something that he was determined never to have. The main reason why no matter how hard his best friend tried to convince him to rent a house together, he did not succumb to his persuasion. Preferring solitude instead to the company. Not wanting anyone to see him at his lowest or to hear his screams during the nights, while he would wake up sweating from yet another nightmare night after night. And as a result of that he got himself in a situation in which he was now, fated to share the house with the person he even never met.

He huffed, driving toward the lonely standing house, someone’s car was already parked there. He looked around, leaving his car in a free space. Getting out of his SUV, Jordan went toward the house.

Getting inside, he noticed still packed boxes in the hall, but he couldn't hear or see anyone else, which meant that his housemate left without unpacking.

Typicall. He thought, walking further into the house, entering a living room he would be forced to share with someone else. He looked around the neat and cozy room, two armchairs were standing opposite the fireplace, the massive bookcase was located along one of the walls.

He was about to go and check the kitchen when he heard his phone calling. Taking it out, he checked the Caller’s ID before answering the call, listening for a familiar voice coming from his mobile.

“Hey, Jody.”

“Morning to you too, Brandon,” replied Jordan, putting his keys into the bowl and moving further into the kitchen.

“I take it, you finally get to your new place? Settled in okay? How is your new housemate? Still not regretting not moving in with me?” questioned Brandon in his carefree manner, as if he wasn’t on the verge of death no more than six month back after he would save Jordan's life, and in return Jordan saved his. His cheerful voice caused a surge of amazement through Jordan while he listened to his friend.

“You know I hate it when you call me that,” Jordan growled frowning after finally the questions stopped in that annoyingly abrupt manner he hated. “And yes, I already got to my new place but had no chance to settle in just yet. Answering your last question, I have no idea who my new housemate is as I can see only unopened boxes there. But I do hope that the person I share this place with is someone who will not interrupt my study or throw constant parties... Although based on the fact that instead of unpacking, this housemate just left… I guess I can say goodbye to that…”

“Yes, yes… Got it,” brushed him off Brandon. “About your studies. Even though I still don't know why you need it in the first place, you always could join the forces, but what I do know, is the fact that you need to unwind before it starts… let loose... have meaningless one-night fun... sometimes I really think you forget how to have fun spending all your free time buried in books,” said Brandon, making Jordan flinch at his choice of words. He could be buried… they both could be... as were most of the guys from their platoon.

Pale, bloodied faces appeared in front of his eyes. His hand is suddenly covered in blood right in front of his eyes… screams deafeningly loud dying on their lips twisted in agony, leaving only few of them alive, and if no one would come soon they would join their comrades, their friends… faster than they could finish the prayer… not that either of them believed, not after what they have seen or could lose.

“What do you mean?” forced out Jordan, closing his eyes and letting out the slow breath.

“I mean that you wouldn’t recognise fun and beauty even if she bumped into you... And you are coming with me to the party. I need a wingman, and you need to unwind. Hopefully with some cute girl, whose face you will forget the next morning,” chuckled Brandon, making Jordan frown moving his phone a bit further from his ear.

“Never,“ cut Jordan, shaking his head. He was done with partying or with women. Done… "You know I don’t do parties… not anymore.”

“Yes, but you also know I will not give up until you say yes. So let’s make it easier on both of us. Should we?,” laughed Brandon.

“I need to unpack my stuff, and it may take the whole day. Also, I need to go to the library to pick up some books for my studies as tomorrow the library will be closed. So this time you will need to manage this on your own.”

“If these are the only reasons then I don’t see any reason why not.”

“I told you, I will not have…,” Jordan tried to say.

“Nope, still cannot see why you wouldn’t have time for some fun. I will be at your place in twenty minutes and will help you unpack, and then we will pick up your books before crashing this party.”

“You will not give up… aren’t you?”

“Man, you should know by now that never.”

“Fine…” sighed Jordan exasperatedly, looking at his watch. “Be here in twenty minutes, but I will leave the party before 10 pm. Understood?”

“See you in twenty minutes,” replied Brandon, ending the call.

Almost an hour later Jordan finally heard a knock on the door. Grudgingly, he opened it, letting his best friend inside the house.

“You are late,” stated he, holding one of the boxes in his hands. The pain shot through his body, but he didn’t even flinch, still staring at his friend.

“Sorry, I met my new neighbours. Movers bailed on her and her little boy, so I helped her to carry boxes inside,” shrugged Brandon nonchalantly passing by Jordan feeling not even the slightest bit sorry for his delay.

Another hour later and unloading the last boxes that Jordan brought with him, they finally started to unpack them. And in another three hours, they were finally done.

All the stuff that Jordan took with him were put neatly to their places. The bookshelf in the living room stocked with books he brought, and a picture of him and his older sister was put above the fireplace. They both looked in satisfaction around the room putting the empty boxes into the storage place. Brandon patted Jordan on the back before going toward the door.

“So now, when we finally finished unpacking,” started his friend. His eyes widening, when he noticed how Jordan with displeasure looked on his new housemate’s still packed boxes.

Quickly his friend marched back to him grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the door, letting him only grab his keys on the way out. “Don’t you even dare to think about that. You are NOT touching your roomies’ stuff. Now…. let’s go to this place, where you need to be quiet and bore yourself to death or we will be late to the party.”

That word again… thought Jordan. The word that made him flinch every time, remembering the day of his friends’ deaths. Still blaming himself that he couldn’t have saved them all, didn't see approaching danger earlier and when he did it was already too late to warn guys as all hell broke loose just a second after he sensed the danger.

“Can you stop calling it that? And the library can be fun when you know what you are looking for,” he snapped, hoping his friend missed his reaction before they both exited the house, shutting the door behind.

It was already three o’clock when they rushed toward the library, trying to get on time before it was closed. After another ten minutes of arguing that Brandon should wait for him in the car instead of constantly complaining about the place or flirting with every single girl they would meet, Jordan ran up the stairs taking two steps at the time before disappearing behind the heavy doors. When he was about to round the corner, he felt someone bumping straight into him. The heavy books the person was carrying fell to the ground hitting his foot painfully. Making him swear under his breath, looking at the person in front of him with the frown.

“Haven’t you ever been taught that you need to look where you are going?” huffed Jordan in annoyance, crouching in front of the girl with the blonde hair and helping her to collect scattered books. “Next time, watch where you are going,” said he with a scowl on his face, shoving the books into her arms before looking at her for the first time.

The girl looked at him with the wide open forest green eyes that looked somehow familiar, no matter how silly it may sound. He quickly raked his gaze over her, taking in every detail of her petite form, before hastily returning it back to her eyes. The tongue darted out running over her lips, making his gaze drop to them darkening just for a split second, while following the movement. Her rosy lips parted as if forming a reply, but he quickly shook himself out of his state and before she could utter even a word he raised to his feet and strolled into the library, leaving a startled stranger behind.

“What a jerk,” she mumbled, standing up with the help of her friends and adjusting her skirt.

“But he is a handsome jerk,” whistled an athletic-looking guy, watching after Jordan, throwing a hand over the blonde girl’s shoulder. “Isn’t he, Heath?”

“Ohhhh, yes. He is yummy, and that ass in low cut jeans,” moaned Heather turning to face her friend. “And did you see his lips? Rae-Rae, if I would bump into him… he wouldn’t leave… so easily,” said she with a wink.

“You two are just ridiculous... I hate you,” groaned Rachel, covering her face with books she was now holding in front of her. Her cheeks flamed. “Can you think of anything, but sex?”

Heather and Derek, the guy, who threw a hand over her shoulder, shared an incredulous look, before shaking their heads and answering in unison.

“Nope… never… And you love us, girl.”

“Don’t you have a boyfriend?” frowned Rachel, raising her head to look at her friend.

“Yes, I do. And this is why I don’t try to get the boy myself. Also, because he is straight,” shrugged off Derek, with a wide smile.

“And how exactly do you know that?” questioned Rachel rolling her eyes.

“Did you see the way he looked at you?” asked Derek, sharing another look with Heather, the plan already building in their heads.

“Okay, you two… drop it. I know this look, and you will not try to hook me up with him. He looked at me the same way as any other rich boy in town would look at me. He is a jerk and a snob. And I’m not interested. Besides you know I have a lot on my plate right now. So stop even thinking about this. Be thankful I even agreed to go to that party with you, because if my brother finds out I lied to him... He will kill you first for dragging me there and then lock me up until graduation... or death in solitude,” she mumbled quickly before taking a deep breath to calm her nerves. “And Derek, don’t you dare to forget that you promised me to do our dance. We need to practice.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll remember. I’m always up to show my new moves,” he said, wiggling his brows.

“Okay, then let’s go. You know I need to change first and unpack my boxes before my housemate will arrive, which you also promised to do with me,” reminded Rachel, and they went to her house, laughing on their way there.

By the time the clock struck seven, Jordan went into a club hosting a party, scowling at the number of people there. His posture was stiff and on alert while he looked around. Ready to jump into an action at any time.

“Brandon, tell me again, why exactly did I agree to go with you?” said he in a loud voice, while trying to get through the crowd and not to lose his friend from the view, who already scanned the crowd for the distraction for the night.

“To have fun, plus I needed a wingman... Actually... scratch out the last one, I see a target at the bar, bored, single, challenging, redhead. Wingman not required,” Brandon said with a wink, when they finally got inside, instantly starting to move into the direction of the petite girl who captured his attention leaving Jordan behind.

He followed his friend with a glance before looking around the floor. His attention immediately drew to a dancing couple in the middle of the dance floor. Both moving as a whole to the sounds of Latin Music. The sensual dance attracted the drunken crowd closer to them, creating a commotion on the dance floor from enthusiastic screams and whistles. His brows furrowed instantly when he recognised the same pretty blonde girl he met earlier today. Her hair laid in soft waves. And he felt how his gaze unintentionally riveted to her, watching her every move, unable to tear his gaze away.

He watched how the guy led her into a low dip. His hand shifted to the small of her back when another traveled along her neck caressing her body as if they were in the confidentiality of the bedroom. His hand slowly reached for her knee making her stretch out her leg. A beautiful red dress flowed around her body, dancing around her petite frame like flames. At some point during the dance, she looked straight into his eyes, and he felt as if falling under her spell. Her soft forest green eyes were burning with fire, alighting something unexplored inside of him. Something that had died with his friends that day, something that they never will have and something that he will never deserve.

He could feel how his heart sped up beating as never before, and his breath elevated, from the beats of sultry music and the way her body moved in another man’s arms. Waves of golden hair refracted the lights of the club, and she moved, holding his gaze as though burning him alive from the inside. As if under the spell, Jordan moved closer to the dancers not even realising it until a buzzing of his mobile broke him out of his daze.

It seemed that eternity had passed when in reality it was only a splitting second, second that he would be not able to get out of his mind. He could feel the pounding of his heart increasing with impending anger as he looked at the caller’s ID, blinking once... twice at the phone clenched in his hand. Contemplating for a moment to just let it go to the voicemail. Not wanting or ready for another confrontation that was inevitably coming.

Deep down he knew that it wasn’t a solution and no matter how long he would avoid it his mother would find the way to get to him, so before he could think about that more he went outside of the club to take a call, not even sparing another glance to the dance floor... or to the girl who’s eyes looked so familiar.

“Mother,” he said, taking a call. “Sorry, I…,” he started, interrupted by his mother’s voice “No mother, I didn’t… I’m with Brandon… Yes, he is still my friend,” replied Jordan, trying to stay calm, while listening to his mother. His grip on the phone was getting firmer and firmer with every word she said, surprised that it didn't break in half by the time he had a chance to speak again. “Mother, no I still plan to study Medicine and not business,” said he, annoyed by yet another remark from his mother. “MOTHER,” he said, raising his voice and losing control just for a split second, before taking a deep calming breath and closing his eyes. “This is my life, and I have all the right to decide what I want or don’t want to do with it. Look what you've done to Leslie? Isn’t it enough…,” exasperatedly said he, only to be shut up by his mother once again. “Yes, mother,” he gritted through his clenched teeth, feeling how his blood started to boil again, wanting nothing more than to get drunk, and to get away as far as possible from his family as he did while he served in the Marine Corps, until he couldn't do that anymore.

His hand reached for his hip by instinct. The wound was deep enough to make him bleed to death on that ill fated day leaving him dead, but it didn’t happen... Instead it made him limp, but he could manage that. This he could hide from everyone with the prescribed medicine when the pain got to the point of unbearable and with the gritted teeth when he just wanted to limp, not caring if somebody will consider it a weakness. And it took him the hell of a lot of willpower to remember it. To remember that he cannot allow himself to be weak, couldn’t allow to show it. No one knew how bad it was... no one except Brandon, who was there for him after he saved his life. The only person who knew that if the bullet would have hit the inch higher or if the help would get there a little bit later Jordan would bleed to death. The only person to whom he told how bad it is and how much pain it causes him even now.

“No, I will not change my mind,” said he on autopilot before ending the phone call abruptly without listening to what else his mother wanted to say. After a moment, he finally shoved the phone back into the pocket of his dark blue jeans moving back into the club and walking toward the bar.

The music has changed to something slower and sensual, and when he looked on the dance floor his eyes landed on the same tantalisingly beautiful stranger who was in the middle of the argument.

He could see how some man grabbed her hand, but she jerked it from him and stormed toward the exit.

He huffed, downing one drink after another, not paying attention to what he was drinking, his eyes dropping back to the bar in front of him. His thoughts involuntarily returned to the girl, but he pushed them away. Frustrated and angry by the fact that he couldn’t get her out of his head for some inexplicable reason. Hurt and angry by the fact his mother managed to get under his skin once again.

By the time he was done and ready to leave the club, the anger boiling inside him reached the limit. Jordan rose abruptly, almost tripping over his feet, when the pain in his hip shot through his leg, making him curse under his breath, taking a moment to compose himself.

He looked around, searching for Brandon, but couldn’t find him anywhere, so he typed him a quick message letting him know that he was heading back to his place. When he was just about to exit the club, he felt someone bump straight into him. His arms instinctively wrapped around the person’s shoulders, preventing them both from the fall.

Tagging: @choices-bound @lahelasaveiro

#Book 1: Consequences #contemporary romance #Jordan Williams x Rachel Ferguson #Brandon Ferguson

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herkawaiinovels · 4 years

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MTL Booklist Review Part 1

Novels from my Ridibooks bookshelf.

Warning: spoilers ahead!

(From left to right, top to bottom)

1. [Favorite] I Raised the Beast Well - This is the second series from the same author that I’ve read and I think I’ve noticed a pattern. It’s like this: the ML wants to do it with the FL but is being patient. His patience is so blatantly written and for me, as a reader, it is just frustrating to draw it out for how many chapters. This one I don’t mind so much because I am a bit invested in the couple. UPDATE: Volume 3 redeemed this series and turned it into a favorite. Book 3 is so good. I will forgive this series’ shortcomings and I think I will give the novel below (from the same author) another try.

2. [Recommended] The Marquess is only Affectionate to Her - From the same author as above. I do like the couple but one scene really turned me off. It was when the ML was being so affectionate to the FL and kept confessing ‘I love you’ multiple times and the FL was just like “...” Say what? One thing I really dislike about c-novels is how the ML is usually overly pampering while the FL is just cold and unfeeling. It’s not the case for this one, but I want at least both of them to be have the same level of affection towards each other. UPDATE: Just like the novel above, the last volume saved this one.

3. [On Hold/Did Not Finish] Overprotected Lady - This novel gives the same vibe as ‘For Now, Let’s Get Married’ (described below). I don’t dislike the FL or ML. It is about a high-ranking knight’s daughter, who, due to circumstances in her childhood, becomes overly protected by the people around her. She can’t go out the house without permission, doesn’t attend social events, etc. But, she has a hobby of carving, and consequently, her carvings possess divine power. She becomes entangled with the Archduke, the Crown Prince, the Pope, and the neighboring kingdom’s young and promising academy arts teacher.

4. [Favorite] Moonlight Library - THIS AUTHOR MAN. SHE IS SO GOOD. She is probably my favorite Korean author at the moment (other than the author of Lucia). I’ve read two of her works and both of them are on my top favorite k-novels. I am so excited about the upcoming publication of her next work! Anyways, her novels have pretty similar tropes: contract marriage, angst (”I can’t love you”), strong and smart FL, and overly pampering ML. Trust me on this one! The smut is also so well-written.

5. [Favorite] Shu’s Lady - What can I say? I’m a sucker for the contract marriage trope. This one is about how a knight’s daughter dies protecting the transmigrated Saintess. She goes back in time and this time volunteers to be the Marquess’ wife instead of becoming a lady-in-waiting for the Saintess. In her first life, due to an oracle, the temple was recruiting a ‘sacrifice’ but that sacrifice turned out to be becoming the Marquess’ wife. The FL, being poor and also wanting to prevent the death of her guardian, volunteers for this role. Anyways, she tells herself not to fall in love with the Marquess, since in her first life, the Marquess couple ended up divorcing as he was rumored to be in love with the Saintess.

6. [On Hold] The Tyrant’s Guardian is the Wicked Witch - Currently on volume 1. The ML starts out as a child so I am kind of iffy about any romantic development that would happen between him and the 200-year-old transmigrated FL. That’s like grooming!!! Why did I buy this again?

7. [Recommended] Ever Ever After - Pretty solid. Though it takes a while for the revenge part to happen, the development in between, especially the FL’s growth, was worth the watch. Also, its pretty great to see Clint regret his old flirtatious ways HAHAHA

8. [On Hold, Recommended] Living as the Villainess Queen - From the same author of Lucia. This one, I am waiting to be published/completed.

9. [Favorite] Daisy - From my favorite author, the author of Moonlight Library. It’s so good. Read this author’s works guys. I made a post about this on Novel Updates.

10. [On Hold, Recommended] Under the Oak Tree - I am currently on the beginning of the 1st side story. All I remember is the pain. The couple is so pitiful, especially at the end of the first arc. All I remember is the pain, the various misunderstandings, and especially the angst. Just...please be happy. And please, please take out the trash father ASAP author. Will wait for this to be completed before reading.

11. [Did Not Finish] The Villainess Wants to be a Sidekick - Was not invested enough in the ML and FL by the 2nd volume. It had an interesting premise - very similar to Side Story, which I dearly love - but why did the story go that way? It was an instant-buy for me because of the plot, but the execution wasn’t my taste.

12. [On Hold/Did Not Finish] For Now, Let’s Get Married - I will perhaps continue reading it someday. I don’t have a problem with the FL/ML. They are both decent. The plot reminded me of The Evil Lady Will Change manhwa, that’s why I bought it. The FL, for some circumstances, married the ML who was known as the monstrous duke of the South. At first she thought the ML wanted nothing to do with her, because he kept avoiding her and didn’t even want an official marriage ceremony. Little did she know, it’s because of a family curse he has.

13. [Recommended] History at the Library - A nice, short read. It’s a fluffy and sweet novel with the right amount of angst. Plus, it involves contract dating and cohabitation!

14. [Did Not Finish, Maybe Recommended] I Will Escape the Flower of Trials - I really thought I would like this. The main pairing is the villainess and the pitiful 2nd lead of the original novel. Again, similar to my beloved Side Story. So why... I even made a whole glossary for the various office position terms. So why...why FL...why don’t you let the ML pamper you. This is a cider type of novel.

15. [Favorite] Evil Cinderella Needs a Villain - This one has contract dating, cohabitation, and a bit of angst. I love the parallels between the leads (FL is a former villainess trying to live kindly in her 2nd life).

16. [On Hold/Did Not Finish, Average] I am the Ex-Girlfriend of a Soldier - It’s pretty fun. I think I got busy so I wasn’t able to finish reading it, but now I seem to have no motivation to pick it up again. Maybe I’ll read it once the translations are complete.

17. [To Read] The Villain’s Saviour - I read a little bit...maybe I’ll read it someday, when the story in the manhwa engages me again.

18. [Did Not Finish, Average] Trying to Find a Lover for my Fiancee - The premise is pretty interesting, the FL remembers that her current life was from a novel, and that her character ends up unhappily married to the emperor in the future. However, when she remembered this fact, it was already too late, because their engagement was already finalized. So she goes on to find a replacement lover for him. So what was my beef with this series? Well, firstly, I fell in love with the second ML. Secondly, I couldn’t really understand the appeal of the ML. And thirdly, I felt like the FL needed to mature a bit more before she could start a relationship with the ML.

19. [On Hold/Did Not Finish] I Raised an Obsessive Servant - Maybe it was too dark for me? The FL was really quite traumatized by her first death, and throughout the whole series, she had multiple other brushes with death, making her thoughts a bit dark. I think she really needed therapy. Unfortunately, the middle ages didn’t have such a thing.

20. [Favorite] Materialistic Princess - This one is so much fun! The series reminds me of Little-Miss-Not-So-Sidekick with how much fun the story and leads are.

21. [Average, Maybe Recommended] I am the Villainess - Hmm...I think these cider types of novels just aren’t my taste. I know some people who really love them though. But at least I was able to finish this one. The plot is like this: while in the temple, Natalie gets a revelation that her life was a book and she was the villainess. She tries her best to distance herself from the heroine, but no matter how much she tries, she couldn’t stop the development leading to her doom. My main beef? Not enough fluffy scenes.

#Featured

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verai-marcel · 4 years

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Midnight Promises (Vampire!Arthur x Fem!Reader, RDR2 Fanfic, 18+, Part 2 of 2)

Tags, Notes, & Summary are in Chapter 1.

AO3 Link here, darlin’.

-------------------

Chapter 2 - With A Price

Word Count: 3415

Charlotte climbed into her own bed, her room underneath the house with no windows, just as Cal had built them. Clutching Arthur’s letter, she curled up and breathed, an old habit that she no longer needed, but still, just the same, she needed to do it.

She missed Cal.

Cal would want her to live.

But Cal didn’t know what would happen if she continued to do so.

She had been a fool.

In keeping him unaware of the depth of their bond, she had doomed them both.

In the middle of the day, with the sun shining brightly over her cabin in the mountains, Charlotte fell asleep and for the first time in a long time, she dreamed of the past.

***

Arthur had visited her several times after Cal had died. She remembered Arthur’s first visit, coming across her just as she was visiting Cal’s grave.

On a subsequent visit as she put Arthur into her guest bed after his coughing fit, she had the feeling she might have to bury him too. She carried on with her day, cleaning and reading, trying not to think about it, until she heard a shuffling.

Arthur slowly walked out to the main room and gave her a wan smile.

She stood up. “Are you…?”

He waved his hand dismissively. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.”

He chuckled. “Can’t put anything past ya, can I?”

She walked up to him. “How bad is it?”

Arthur looked away. “It’s TB.”

Charlotte nodded. She had suspected as much; she had noticed him weakening during his last couple of visits, and she could smell a sickness in him, something that seemed much worse than the usual ailments.

“Are you afraid of dying?” she asked him, looking him in the eyes.

He was quiet for a moment. “...Yes. But I’ve accepted it.”

“What if you could live?”

“There’s no comin’ back from this.”

She placed a hand on his arm. “There is a way.”

***

He had rejected her offer at first, thinking she was crazy, it wouldn’t work.

But when she had held him up by one arm, exhibiting a supernatural strength, he had only shrugged and said as nonchalantly as he could, “well, maybe you ain’t crazy.” She had given him a small mouthful of her blood to keep him going for a little longer while she researched how to change him without accidentally killing him.

Turned out that the bit of blood he took from her worked as a lifeline; when she felt his life ebbing away on the mountain, she ran to him, forced blood down his throat, and watched as her friend became a newly born vampire.

***

When the training year was over, Arthur had leaned down and given Charlotte a sweet peck on the cheek. It would be their last meeting where they could be together in the same room without wanting to rip each other apart. Even at that moment, Charlotte could feel the instinctual aggression begin to bubble up, but she only smiled and told Arthur, “Write to me whenever you need help. And please. Think about my request.”

Arthur had nodded and set off on his new horse, riding into the darkness.

***

You woke up as the sun was setting. Stretching your sore muscles, you felt refreshed after sleeping so many nights on a bed roll. Getting out of bed and putting on your traveling clothes, you exited the room to find Charlotte to say goodbye.

She was sitting at her dining table, reading Arthur’s letter. She looked up at you as you walked in and beckoned you to sit with her.

Setting your bag down, you sat across from her, glancing at the letter curiously.

“Do you wish to know what he wrote?”

You shrugged. “I’m curious, but if it’s a private matter between the two of you, I don’t want to pry.”

She nodded and smiled at you. “You’re a good woman. I’m choosing to tell you.” She took a deep breath.

“Do you know why it took Arthur so long to bring you to me?”

You shook your head.

“Arthur didn’t want to bond anyone to him because if he died, they would die with him.”

You swallowed. Knowing him, he didn’t want the possibility of someone killing him and taking you down with him. No wonder he was so hesitant about the topic.

“I told Arthur, before he left, that if he found someone he wanted to be with forever, that I would give him the ritual for a price.”

She stood up and went to her bookshelf. Picking a leather-bound journal, she came back to the table and handed it to you. “This is my personal journal, of all of my observations about being a vampire. I want you to have it.”

You took the journal and looked back up at her. “Are you sure? Don’t you need it?”

A bittersweet smile crossed her face; your heart ached to look at her. “Not for much longer.”

“Charlotte?”

“Do you know what the price is?” She held up the letter. “The price that Arthur agreed to?”

You barely shook your head. Your heart hammered and you started to feel a cold sweat coming on.

“He has to kill me.”

You dropped the journal. Staring at her, you hastily picked it back up and tried to give it back to her, as if handing her journal back would reverse what she had said. “No, no! Why?”

She wrapped your hands around her journal and gently pushed it back towards you. “It must be done.” Looking out the window as the sun set, she was silent for a moment before continuing to speak. “Without Cal, I’ll lose my sanity. I cannot feed on anything else. Any blood I drink, I’ll just vomit it back up.”

You could only listen in horror as your throat went dry.

“I’ve only survived this long because I was strong. But in a few more years, I will become a feral beast and slowly die from starvation as I mindlessly kill creatures, trying to drink their blood.”

She looked back at you, the weight of the world in her gaze. “Arthur knows this, knows the risks, but he loves you so much that he’s willing to bind himself to you forever. Your life will be as long as his, but if you are killed, then he will slowly go insane as he starves. Bonding with you makes you his only food source, and everything else becomes poison.”

She looked at you, a grave expression on her face. “Do you understand why he didn’t want to do this at first?”

You nodded.

“I know that asking him to kill me will hurt Arthur. I know that inside, he is a kind man who just happened to grow up in a violent world. Please, forgive me for hurting him.”

You looked upon this kind woman, the one who had saved Arthur, the one who had given you the knowledge to be with him forever, and the one who was suffering, and would continue to suffer, unless the price was paid.

And you made a decision.

“No.”

Charlotte stared at you for a moment, confused. “What?”

“Arthur won’t suffer this time.” You breathed in and silently prayed for courage. “I’ll do it.”

She looked at you, her confusion turning into respect. “Thank you,” she said softly.

***

As dusk melted away, leaving the sky a dark fabric of inky velvet, you and Charlotte walked to a flower bed, next to a grave. She placed a stake, a mallet, and an axe on the ground nearby. You were carrying a rifle that she had loaded with a silver bullet.

She lay in the bed of flowers, her face smiling and peaceful as she glanced at the gravestone.

“I’ll see you soon, Cal.”

Then she turned to you. “I’m sorry,” she said, but her smile did not waver. “I never meant for you to be the one to do this.”

You nodded, struggling to control your emotions. Taking another deep breath, you raised the rifle. “You were so kind to me. I’ll always remember you.”

She smiled. “Tell Arthur thank you. And that I’m sorry.”

“I will.”

You fired the rifle straight into her heart.

She didn’t even make a sound as the bullet pierced her body, her face turning slightly towards the gravestone. Taking the stake and the mallet, you hammered it down where her heart was, to keep her body in place, as she had instructed you. Then you set down the mallet and picked up the axe, taking one last look at her face.

Even in death, Charlotte still looked graceful. Her smile was full of kindness and gratitude. It was the gratitude that broke your heart as you swung the axe.

***

You listlessly rode back to the cave by yourself. You had beheaded her before burying her, your tears blinding you as you had shoveled the dirt until she was fully beneath the earth. You had put all the tools away, too numb to really think about why you were doing it, just that it was something she would have done.

After you had agreed to her price, she had quickly penned a letter for Arthur, which you had in your bag. That letter felt like it weighed a thousand pounds as you carried it, along with her journal and her ritual book.

As you approached the cave before dawn, Arthur came out, looking worried.

“Darlin’?”

You got off the horse slowly, starting to shake violently as the full weight of what you had done was starting to sink in.

“Arthur?” you whispered feebly.

He ran the rest of the way to you, pulling you into his arms. He sniffed and stared at you. “What…?”

“I paid the price,” you said as your tears began to flow once more.

Arthur stared, his mouth open in shock. Then he bowed his head and held you tight.

And for a long time, neither of you spoke. Only soft sobs filled the night air.

You weren’t sure if the sounds were coming from you, or him, or both of you.

***

At some point, the two of you had hidden back in the cave and fallen asleep in each other’s arms, holding each other for comfort as the day came and went.

The two of you awoke, together, as the sun disappeared beneath the horizon. Arthur’s fingers caressed your cheek as he traced the line of your jaw, to your neck, to your shoulder, down your arm, to your hand, where he entwined his fingers with yours and clasped your hand tight.

“I love you so much,” he murmured. “I love you above all else.”

“I love you too,” you quietly said back. “You’re worth everything.”

Silently looking at each other for a few moments, just basking in this connection of two people who would never need anyone else, you and Arthur smiled and leaned in at the same time to share a chaste kiss.

“We can do the ritual tonight,” you finally said. “It’s a full moon.” You sat up and pulled the ritual book from your bag. “Or we can wait a month until we get back home so we’re in a more familiar place.”

Arthur looked over your shoulder as you flipped to the chapter with the bonding ritual. After skimming the page you were on, he shrugged. “What do you want to do?”

“Let’s do it tonight.” You got out of the bedroll and stood up, stretching your back. Your arms were sore and your heart still hurt. Looking back at Arthur, you smiled. “I think it’s what she would have wanted for us.”

His lip twitched as he let out a soft laugh. “You know, I think you’re right.”

***

Together, the two of you gathered up some stones and built a circle in the cave. Making small fires at the four cardinal directions, the two of you shed your clothes and stood facing each other within the circle.

“You ready?”

“To be with you forever? Lemme think about it.”

You smacked Arthur lightly on the arm. “Funny.”

“I’d like to think so,” he said as he cupped your cheek. “But in all seriousness, are you sure? You’ll be stuck with me for a long time.”

You touched his cheek in return. “I’m absolutely sure.”

He nodded. “Thank you,” he whispered. He leaned down and kissed you. His lips moved down your chin to your neck, where the tips of his fangs grazed your skin, but never breaking through, always so gentle with you as he worked his way down your body, worshiping you with kisses and tender touches until he was on his knees before you. Your hands had been on his shoulders, following him down until he was looking up at your face. He wrapped one arm around your hips, his hand gripping your backside.

“Put yer leg over my shoulder, darlin’,” he said as he patted your thigh. You carefully swung it over his shoulder with his help, holding onto his head for support.

Arthur leaned his head in and tentatively licked your core. He looked up at you again, winking as he dove in, giving your lower lips a full make out session as he devoured you.

You moaned louder as he became bolder with his exploration, his tongue flicking this way and that, opening you up and making you wet with need. His arms around you kept you steady as your hands gripped his head, fingers in his hair as you rolled your hips as much as you could in his iron hold.

He was a very talented man with his mouth, his chin dripping with your juices as he pulled away right before he brought you to completion. You whimpered, only to have him pat your rear gently.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he coaxed as he lay down in the center of the circle. He stroked his cock, hard from pleasuring you, as he held out his other hand to you. You took it, letting him guide you as you straddled him and slowly lowered yourself onto his shaft.

“Take yer time.”

You let out a soft sigh as you seated yourself fully, his girth filling you up and making you feel amazing. You knew you’d never get tired of this feeling.

Raising his right wrist, he bit down on his vein. Blood dribbled from the wound as he lifted it to your mouth. Giving your right wrist to him, he kissed the soft skin, his fangs grazing near the vein. Taking your left hand with his, he nodded at you

Together, the two of you held hands, fingers entwined.

Together, you spoke.

Together, you made a promise.

“Take of my blood, be my one true heart, forever yours, ‘till all the stars fall.”

Together, you both bit down, his blood filling your mouth as yours filled his.

You weren’t ready for the feeling that coursed through you the moment his blood hit your tongue. The only real way you could characterize it was as if the wind had dove through your skin, through your very pores, compressing into your heart. You forced yourself to swallow and continued to drink, even as your heart hammered, even as you began to sweat and shake; Charlotte had told you to drink until the whooshing feeling ceased.

So you drank.

When you felt like your heart was about to stop, all of a sudden, the power released itself from you, and you felt flushed with heat. Arthur looked up at you as he gave your skin one last, languid lick to heal the wound, his pupils dilated, his cheeks flushed with life. He placed your hand on his heart, and you felt a heartbeat; it was the first time you had felt one.

The gentle rhythm matched your own.

He smiled as he let go of your hand and gripped your hips with both hands. You started to move, sliding along the length of him, leaning down to kiss his warm lips as you rode him, the two of you lost in the feel of each other, wrapped up in emotions you never thought were possible. It was deeper than any love you could imagine, stronger than any bond you had ever felt.

His arms wrapped around you and held you close. His hips surged upwards, meeting your body as you rode him faster and faster, your breath coming out in short gasps. You were so close, so damn close.

"Come with me, darlin'," Arthur said softly, his arms holding you even tighter.

You burst apart, crying out his name as utter pleasure ripped through your body, your hips spasming uncontrollably. He gripped your ass and thrust upwards, moaning your name over and over as he too slipped over the edge into sweet delirium, filling you with his spend.

For a few minutes, the two of you lay there on the cold stone of the cave, just breathing. When you shivered, Arthur carefully sat up, wrapped your arms and legs around him, and got up. Walking out of the circle, the fires extinguished and the cave became dark.

Blinking, you trusted Arthur to take you to the bed roll, where he lay you down and grabbed his union suit and your night dress for warmth. After the two of you pulled on your clothes, he covered you both with his blanket, making sure you were warm enough. You smiled and snuggled into his arms.

"Sweetheart?"

"Yes?"

You felt him caress your face oh so gently. "I love you. Always will."

You felt for his face in the darkness, and when you found him, you leaned forward to kiss him softly.

"I'll love you forever, Arthur Morgan."

***

Arthur slowly got up from the bed roll, making sure not to waken his beloved. Moving as silent as a shadow, he took the letter from the pile of books on the ground and carried it to the mouth of the cave so he could read it in the moonlight.

Opening the letter, he smiled sadly at seeing Charlotte's cursive lettering.

My dearest Arthur,

I'm afraid this will be my last letter to you. Your chosen mate is very courageous. She has a good look in her eyes.

At this point, you'll know what she's done for you. Treasure her, guard her. Don't make my mistake. Don't let her die. Make sure she knows how you feel. Every day.

I leave all my worldly belongings to you. I already had the deed transferred to your name long ago. Do with them what you wish.

I'll miss you, my friend. But I'm off to see Cal, so I can't say that I'm sad to go.

Take care of yourself.

C. B.

Arthur folded the letter and stared up at the moon.

"Goodbye, Charlotte."

***

When you awoke at dusk, you found Arthur, sleeping soundly next to you. As you moved, he reached out for you, hooking one arm around your waist.

"Just a few minutes more, darlin'," he mumbled.

You just fell back into his embrace and held him close until twilight swept across the sky.

The two of you finally got dressed and went to hunt some small game. Arthur ended up cooking a small rabbit for you. You ate some of the leftover biscuits and some of the cooked meat before helping him pack up everything and load up the horses. All of this was done in relative silence, both of you processing the past twenty four hours.

"Charlotte gave us everythin'," he finally said as the two of you started riding down the mountain path.

"Wh-what?"

"Her house. Her land. All of it."

You stared at him, agape. Then you noticed his face, pained, yet pensive. Was it too painful to live where his mentor had died? You didn't want to go back there at the moment either, but you couldn't imagine how Arthur felt.

"What are you thinking?" you asked in a small voice.

He sighed as he stared ahead for a few moments. "I'm thinking we keep it for when we get too young for our current town," he finally replied. "Another ten years, then we'll move out here, live quietly, away from people, just us two."

He turned and gave you a teasing smile, his eyes full of love for you. "What do ya say, Mrs Morgan?"

You smiled back. "I'd say that sounds like Heaven, Mr. Morgan."

-------------------

End Notes: I know this got really angsty and dark. If you've read Magic Knight Rayearth, then you'll know where I got my inspiration from. If you managed to read this all, thank you for sticking around. I hope you enjoyed the ride.

#rdr2 fanfic #arthur x reader #vampire arthur #writing #arthur morgan #nsft #lemon fanfic #arthur x fem!reader #tw: assisted suicide #tw: death #tw: blood

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all1e23 · 5 years

Text

Heart & Soul [Pt. 19]

Chapter: Poison In My Blood

Pairings: Bucky x Reader

Summary: Steve and the rest of the unit focus their efforts on finding their missing friends.

Warnings: None really. I guess impending doom?

A/N: Again Google for the Russian. If it's incorrect please let me know so I can change it. хватит дуться моей любви. Я скоро буду дома - Stop sulking my love. I'll be home soon.

моя любовь - my love

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are my jam though! Thanks!*

“What the hell do you mean Y/n and Bucky are in trouble?”

Steve nearly pinched his armed to check that this wasn’t some terrible he was having, he would wake any second and be back home with his mate and Bucky and Y/n would be fine. That would be too easy and Steve’s never been that lucky. He had no idea how Sharon would even know about the case? Or about Y/n for that matter. Unless Bucky shared some of that at his appointment and he can't imagine Bucky talking about Y/n to someone he didn’t have blind trust in, and that was not Sharon.

More importantly, probably the most important thing he wanted to know, was how the hell she knew they were in trouble.

Sharon held a thumb drive towards Steve, but he made no move to grab it from her hand. The fear and anger running rapidly through him had him paralyzed, he couldn't move even if he wanted to. If Y/n was in trouble that meant Tony was in trouble and Steve was finding it difficult to stay calm from the even slightest implication that his other half was in trouble. Natasha rolled her eyes at their silent standoff and plucked it from the Omega’s hand. She moved over to Bucky’s computer where they could see whatever was on it with some semblance of privacy.

“And what exactly are we looking at Sharon?” Natasha asked, glancing over the top of Bucky’s monitor carefully watching her as she waited for the files to upload.

“It’s the video surveillance from my office. It shows Brock breaking into my office and threatening me from a hidden cam I keep in a plant on top of the bookshelf in my office. There is also a backup of all the files he stole from me. Most are about Bucky. A few on Steve and--“ She hesitated and looked over at Steve. He hasn’t spoken yet but the way his hands were clutched at his side and the tick in his jaw gave off the impression that he wasn’t holding things together all that well.

“What Sharon?” Steve pressed. “And what Sharon?”

“And some on Tony...”

Natasha pressed a hand to Steve's chest when a snarl slipped from his lips. She ‘ always been good at appearing calm even when she wasn’t. It was a running joke within their unit. No one ever knew exactly what the Alpha thinking, well everyone but Clint. However, the burning red flecks in her eyes were giving her away. Tony may not be her Omega and yes, he often annoyed her and he was way too sarcastic, always at the absolute worst possible times, but he was still family and she protected her family with her life.

“He did more than steal Tony’s files. He threatened his life.”

“What?!” A growl tore from Steve’s chest and his eyes snapped red.

“I just let my Omega go check on Y/n and you’re telling me Rumlow threatened his life?!”

Sam grabbed Steve by the arms and held him back, whispering something that seemed to keep the Alpha from completely losing it. For the time being anyway.

Sharon took several steps back from the fuming Alpha. Steve wasn’t usually one snap at an Omega, particularly one that is already upset and scared but when it came to the safety of his Omega, Steve didn’t always think things through. If he feral, well, Sharon didn’t want to see how much darker he became.

“Y – Yes." She confirmed, holding her head high despite the three Alphas glaring at her. "I didn’t know Tony would be involved at all. I’m sorry Steve… I-“

“Are you sorry Sharon?”

Natasha walked around Bucky’s desk, her eyes were back to green but somehow, they were making the Omega tremble.

“Or are you in on all of this too? Did you do all this so you could have Steve all to yourself? Was that the plan from the beginning and you’re just now starting to feel guilty?”

“Jesus.” Sharon breathed her body deflating at the thought.

“No! Of course not. I would never wish that on anyone and for your information detective Romanoff, I’m not interested in being anyone’s second choice. I know you don’t like me Natasha for…” Her flicked to Steve for a minute who looked a bit uncomfortable with whatever she was about to say.

“For reasons that aren’t important anymore, but I would never put Tony’s life at risk. I was scared! He said… Just listen to the video. You’ll see I had nothing to do with any of this until he showed up in my office and threatened me.”

Steve walked around the desk to pull up the video, all three Alphas were huddled close by the computer, but Natasha’s eyes didn’t leave Sharon’s. She wasn’t sure they could trust her just yet and she wasn’t going to let her guard down until she was absolutely sure Sharon wasn't a risk to her family.

“Get her to an interrogation room.” Steve snapped at the young Beta officer who happened to be walking by at the wrong moment.

“She doesn’t leave till I can verify this hasn’t been tampered with.”

There was a flash of betrayal in Sharon's eyes. She expected that from Natasha but not from Steve. She thought he knew her better than that, but apparently, she didn’t know Steve as well as she thought she did. The officer ushered her along as quickly he could, attempting to avoid more of the captain's wrath.

“Nat? What is going on in here? I was waiting for you outside and--” Clint slowly trailed off as he watched Sharon being escorted off and placed into one of the small conference rooms with an officer standing guard just outside the door. He slowly came around the front desk, pushing past the officer that tried to stop him. Once he caught his mates’ distress there was little that could keep them apart, that included some Beta beat cop. He wrapped his arm around her tiny waist and his nose immediately nuzzled into her neck.

“Tony, Bucky, and Y/n are out of reach at the moment. We think it has to do with her case.” She kissed his temple gently as her arm wrapped his shoulders.

“I’m going to be working all night. I think dinner is on hold. Why don’t you go home моя любовь?”

“No,” Clint said flatly.

Natasha arched her brow, “No?”

“They are my friends too Tash. I can’t just go home and wait for you to tell me what's going on. I want to help in any way I can.”

“Actually,” Steve looked up from Bucky’s computer and met her icy glare. “I could use his help, Nat.”

“Excuse me? We have two Omegas missing and you want my Omega to get involved? No.”

“Wait… By out of reach you meant missing?” Clint pulled back from Natasha and narrowed his eyes. “You thought that was best to keep that from me, любить? Just because you’re the Alpha, that doesn’t mean you can keep shit like that from me. ”

Clint.” Natasha growled softly and quickly took a deep breath to calm down. “You know that’s not what I was doing. I didn’t want you to fret over something you can’t do anything about.”

“Because I can't physically do anything to help or because you won’t let me do anything to help?"

"Omega--"

“Could everyone just shut up for ten minutes!” Steve howled, silencing everyone surrounding him.

“We need to get our heads out of our asses. Brock’s been two steps ahead of us this entire time. With the airport, Pietro, and the crime scene. He knows where we are going to look for before we do. If we want to find them, we need to be smart about our next move.”

“Uh, what the hell is going on here?”

Everyone’s head snapped up at the sound of Tony’s voice filling the station. He took a few steps towards the group huddled around Bucky’s computer but quickly stopped, wrinkling his nose at the awful smell. “Good Gods. The amount of Alpha arrogance in the air right now… Can we tone it down a bit?”

Steve barreled through everyone and rushed over cupping Tony’s face in his shaking hands, there was a look of panic, maybe terror on Steve’s face and if Tony didn’t know any better there were tears webbing in his lashes. He’s only seen that look one other time, with Stane and it made Tony’s chest ache at the sight.

“Are you okay?” Steve asked frantically checking him over, looking for any sign of injury.

“Am I okay?” Tony repeated, confused. “What? Of course, I am okay.” Steve clearly needed the reassurance that he was, in fact, healthy and okay, so he leaned into his mate’s chest and offered his neck up to him letting Steve scent him.

“I’m fine, Alpha. I’m okay.” He whispered in Steve’s ear.

Steve buried his nose in Tony’s neck, holding on to the Omega tighter and longer than he normally would in front of their friends and colleagues.

“You’re never going anywhere alone again. I don’t care if it makes you hate me. I can’t go through that ever again. Not after last time,” Steve whispered against his skin and placed a kiss over his mark before finally pulling back, but he didn’t let go. His arm stayed around Tony’s waist, fingers digging into Tony's hips so tightly they were sure to leave a bruise.

“Buck never came back from that call and then you went to check on Y/n and I--“ He didn’t need to explain the rest, Tony and everyone understood what he was saying. Tony shook his head smiling fondly up at his mate.

“I’m okay. No one was there. No need to call the national guard to come looking for me handsome. I found this tossed on the floor in Bucky’s apartment though.” He held up Y/n’s necklace and Sam was the first to grimace at the sight of the broken chain.

“Bucky gave it to Y/n sometime during her heat. I saw her after he gave it to her and there is no way she would take it off. Let alone leave it thrown on the floor the way I found it.”

Steve eyed the necklace and tucked it back into his Omega’s hand. “Hold onto that. She’s going to want that back when I bring them both home.”

“What’s the move, Cap?” Sam asked, anxiously. He wanted his partner back, and maybe a bit of guilt was finally starting to rear it’s ugly head because he shared the blame for some of this.

“Sam and I will head to where Bucky was supposed to take that call. Nat, I want you over to Pierce’s place. Ask him about Rumlow and if they know each other. See if he happens to mention the fact that Brock seems to believe he's his father. Don’t let on to what we already know. Get him talking and take a patrol unit with you.”

Tony detangled himself from Steve’s rough grasp and walked towards his desk, Steve watching him closely as he did. He wasn’t going to leave Tony’s side for a month when all this over. Tony couldn't complain about that too much. He did like it when Steve got all handsy.

“Nat, let me grab my-“

“No,” Steve commanded, voice firm. There was no room for argument and Tony knew it before he turned around to see the look of determination on Steve's face.

“You’re not going. End of discussion. He already threatened your life and I won’t risk your safety again.”

“Steve--”

“I said no, Omega!" He growled. "You can be pissed at me later. Right now, you’re going to listen to your Alpha and stay put.”

Tony nodded and dropped down in his desk chair, seemingly obedient and content to be so but Steve knew better. Tony was pissed and Steve would pay for it later, he was okay with that if it meant Tony was around to follow through on whatever punishment he deemed fit.

“Okay. Come back to me in one piece and don’t let him hurt her…”

Steve started to reach out for Tony but stopped himself and simply nodded knowing he wasn’t going to get any type of goodbye from his mate right now. Tony was angry with him, but he really didn’t mind for once. Steve would sleep on that tiny couch in his studio as long as Tony was safe and sound a few doors down from him. That was all that mattered. He turned on his heels, barking on his way out.

“Nat! Sam! Let’s go.”

Clint tightened his arms around her waist as she began to pull away, “Alpha…” He whimpered so softly only she could hear. “I...” He hated that he wanted to beg her not to go, that he was acting like a stereotypical Omega but he didn't like the sound of any of this. It wasn’t a simple case or some average call, this was life and death for someone because Brock wasn’t going to lay down and let them win.

“I have to go,моя любовь. I’ll be fine. You know I can’t leave you to your own devices. Go watch after Tony and no scheming.” Natasha kissed the tip of his nose but raised her brow at the look playful look on his face and combed her fingers through his hair to help calm him.

“I mean it, you and Tony are to stay here and not get involved. I can’t stay focused if I am worried about you keeping you safe, моя любовь."

Clint nodded but he didn’t look very convinced, he tried one last time to keep her by side, sticking his lip out enough that she knew he was pouting. Natasha rolled her eyes despite her grin.

“хватит дуться моей любви. Я скоро буду дома.” She gave him one soft kiss to his cheek before she started off towards the direction Steve had stormed off in.

“Nat?”

She turned back to look at Clint and he whispered weakly, “Budapest?”

A small grin graced her face, “Budapest, my love.”

The station quieted as the Alphas and half of the patrol officers on duty left following their captain. It took Clint a few minutes before his brain was able to convince his feet to move. He turned around and found Tony staring at him with an amused expression on his face making Clint's cheek pink. Tony raised his brow at his blushing friend, smirking.

“Who knew you were so sappy Clint.”

“Shut up, Mr. Whatever-You-Say-My-Gorgeous-Alpha. What are you doing anyway?" Clint grumbled as he plopped down in his mate's chair and rolled up to Tony's desk. It only took a short glance at Tony's computer for him to realize what the Omega was up to.

“Oooo. You’re in so much trouble. Your Alpha said no scheming and you’re scheming.”

Tony grinned at the childish sing-song tone in Clint’s voice. “You in or you gonna tattle on me?"

“Oh, no." Clint scoffed, grinning widely. "I’m in. Besides, sometimes the punishment is well worth all the scheming. What are we looking for?”

“Well, Buck took a call out at this location and now I’m comparing Pierce’s properties to this location and we’re going to see what comes up in the area and hope that Brock is there and we are not too late. If we're lucky he will own something nearby or something in his records will give us a hint as to where they could be.”

Clint winced at the search results loaded, not terrible but not great either. “Seven properties? I guess, not so lucky?”

“Wait…” Tony frantically searched through the files on his desk, tossing folders, papers, and pads of paper onto the floor until he found his tablet and started aggressively typing away until he grinned.

“Got him.” He whispered and jumped up from his chair pulling his phone from his pocket.

“You got your kit with you?”

“No, we can swing by and grab it. Why?” Clint jumped up and chased after the Omega.

“We’re going to meet them there. Y/n or Bucky could be hurt, and we should be there. Not sitting here locked away like some helpless Omega waiting for word from their Alphas."

“Oh, yeah. You’re in so much trouble.” Clint confirmed, grinning widely, and followed behind Tony as he dialed, what Clint assumed was Steve and boy was he was right. Everyone could hear the Alpha’s booming voice coming from the other end of the line.

“Tony? What’s going on?”

“I was looking at Pierce’s properties and-“

“Omega!”

“Listen, you can lecture me on the importance of following orders later. I know you told me to stay out of it, but I am who I am Steve. You knew who I was when you married me. You should be thanking me really. I know where they are.”

“I swear to Gods, Tony. Can you just listen for once? You are in so much trouble – You, you what!?”

“I know where Bucky and Y/n are. Clint and I are on our way there."

---------

The damn kids Bucky had been called to deal with took off running the second his squad car pulled up to the building, he had jumped out of the car and chased after them without thinking twice. The little shits were faster than he expected though and led him to an old warehouse that looked as if it had been closed for years. At this point, he was seriously rethinking having kids. Okay, not entirely true, a little mini Y/n wouldn't be so bad. Gods, he had it so bad he couldn't even focus on the teenagers he was chasing. Bucky eyed the warehouse and sighed as he patted his pockets down for his phone which was of course back in his car. He pulled his radio from his pocket and went to report in his location but stopped as he noticed a black shiny SUV parked off to the side of the abandoned building.

Something was off. The SUV was brand-new and the warehouse looked untouched for the last several decades. There was no way those kids drove that, if they had a car they would have been long gone when ran from him. Of course, it could be a new owner or a couple who couldn't wait till they got home. He's seen that one too many times. There were some things you can't get out of your head once you see them and that was one of them. He slowly stepped into the warehouse and glanced around what seemed to be an empty building.

"NYPD." He called out, his booming voice bouncing off the walls. "Just checking in. There was a call about some kids defacing property in the area..." The hair on his arms stood up as he slowly reached for his gun.

“Detective!” A voice boomed from the back corner of what looked to be someone's old office before the building was deserted. A figure slowly stepped forward and the Alpha grinned widely.

“So good to see you again.”

Bucky frowned as he came into the light and slowly released his grip on his gun once he recognized him. “I know you. You… you were that dick outside the coffee shop. The one that was mouthing off about my Omega.”

“Wrong on two accounts Barnes. Not some random dick and she’s not your Omega.”

He reached back into the office and pulled Y/n out by her arm. Bucky’s eyes flashed red the moment he saw the Alpha with his hands all over his mate, his Y/n. He was going to rip him apart for touching her. Bucky started to step towards them but Brock put Y/n in front of him, using her as a shield, like the pathetic excuse for an Alpha he was. Bucky stopped in his tracks when he met her eyes and Bucky knew exactly who he was.

He should have thrown the piece of shit through the window when he had a chance.

"It's not nice to play house with an Omega that's promised to someone else Detective." Brock placed a kiss to Y/n's temple and she closed her eyes in disgust. He turned his attention back to Bucky, grinning wickedly as he spoke. "I think it's time we talked about you touching what's mine."

Previous // Next

#alpha!bucky x omega!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #alpha!bucky #cop!bucky #bucky x reader #bucky x you #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #a/b/o dynamics #a/b/o au #a/b/o verse #a/b/o #alternate universe

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wishingforatypewriter · 6 years

Note

May I request something? I wondered about that matter since Chapter 9 of "On Casual Commitments", since it was brought up there. I was too shy to ask earlier, but I'd really like to know what happened between Yuki and Marui when they met at Polar Star to help Fumio-san moving out. So yes, may I ask for that? I am still enchanted by the two other One Shots you wrote about them and thought I could ask. Have a good day or night :)

Sure! I hope you enjoy it!

Yoshino Yuki woke up in her luxury suite at the Totsuki Imperial hotel. Ah, let’s just take a moment to let that sink in. After her first class, nonstop flight from New York City to Tokyo, Yoshino Yuki—the lifetime lover of all things decadent—had checked in to a room on the top floor of of a five star hotel and did not have to worry about the price!

Sometimes when she missed home or got tired of filming or woke Ryoko at 4 o’clock in the morning because she forgot about the time difference, Yuki wondered whether the cosmopolitan lifestyle she had chased so tirelessly was really worth it. But now with the silk sheets beneath her and the city streets below her and a remote control that could turn day to night in her room, she was sure that she had chosen correctly.

With a click of a button the sunlight was absorbed by dark curtains. That was nice. She stretched and rolled over in bed, hoping to fight the jetlag with a couple more hours of sleep. Her plans were promptly foiled all of fifteen minutes later when her cell phone started ringing.

Yuki groaned, rubbing at her eyes. If it was her producer again she swore she was going throttle him. What part of ‘vacation day’ was so difficult to grasp? “You’ve reached Yoshino Yuki,” she said, trying her best to put on her TV voice despite the ungodly hour.

“Good morning, Yoshino-san. I’m a few minutes away from your hotel, so you can come downstairs.”

Fuuuuuuck. She had completely forgotten that Marui offered to drive her up to campus. She’d gotten so accustomed to taking taxis everywhere. “Ah…um…about that…” She hopped out of bed and started rifling through her luggage for something to wear while simultaneously unpinning her hair rollers. “I’m not quite ready yet, but I should be down in ten minutes.”

“Yoshino-san,” he said, his voice laced with disbelief.

“Okay, twenty minutes,” she conceded, sighing. “A half hour tops. I just overslept so—”

“Figured as much,” he said, and she could almost see him smugly adjusting his spectacles. “Truthfully, I haven’t left my house yet. Do you think you’ll be ready in an hour?”

“Damn it, you almost gave me a heart attack!” Yuki huffed, hands resting on her hips. “That’s so mean of you, Marui.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist. You’re always running late, ever since we were in school.”

“Whatever.” Yuki rolled her eyes, annoyed that she had fallen for it. “An hour should be fine, though.”

“I’ll see you then.”

When she finally made it downstairs, wearing oversized sunglasses and a navy jumpsuit from Neiman Marcus, Marui Zenji was waiting for her. She smiled a bit when she saw him in his tweed suit jacket and slacks; he looked more and more like a professor every time they met.

“What are you doing dressing like that to pack boxes?” she asked.

“You’re one to talk,” he said, gesturing at her designer diggs.

“I have an interview later with this really cool magazine,” she explained, blushing a bit. She remembered the first time he’d looked at her like that, when she had gone to a school dance in that silly cherry dress.

“And I have a review session to run,” he said.

Yuki nodded. They were both still busy—the same kind of busy that had broken them up close to a decade ago. “That’s exciting!” She beamed at him. “You’re almost like someone reliable now.”

“What do you mean ‘almost?’”

The drive went by relatively quickly; they chatted amicably about the ambitions that had come between them and the precious godchild they shared.

By the time they made it to the Polar Star, they had fallen into a synthetic version of their old rhythm―her giving him flack and him flipping it back on her. But a sense of hesitation coated their interactions; after all, it would be too easy to fall back into old habits. And that would hardly be appropriate given that he was engaged to be married.

“There you kids are,” Fumio-san said as she ambled out into the hallway. “You’re late. I’m already halfway done.” And, of course, by halfway done she meant that all the boxes were open, but had nothing in them.

“Fumio-san!” Yuki dashed to hug the old dorm mother, who she hadn’t seen in two years.

“There’s the Hollywood star,” she said. “You know the only reason I kept paying that damn cable bill was to watch your shows.”

“C’mon, that’s not true,” Yuki replied. “You’ve been watching those soap operas since we were in middle school. Right Marui?”

“I can’t remember. Don’t bring me into this.”

Yuki crossed her arms. “That’s so half-assed of you. A man with glasses should be more assertive.”

“Why do you insist on attributing so many characteristics to the fact that I wear glasses?”

“Because it’s true,” she quipped.

He sighed. “On what basis does…” And then they were back to their banter.

Fumio watched them go at it for a few minutes, smiling as she leaned heavily against her cane. “Hey now,” she said finally. “Did you come here to stand around and bicker all day? Start packing up the bookshelf while I make lunch.”

The bookshelf was a wealth of knowledge. Over the years, generations of Polar Star residents had left behind textbooks, recipe books, travel guides, and a host of manga volumes for new cohorts of students. All of these, Fumio-san would be leaving at the dorm. The only thing she would take with her was the yearbooks—one for every class she had nurtured until graduation.

Because they were only human, they stopped to peer into the lives of the famous generations—the Polar Star’s golden age, Shinomiya Koujirou’s class, and naturally their own jewel generation.

“Look at the Elite Ten page,” Marui said after Yuki flipped to it. They were all lined up in front of Totsuki’s Parliament for a group photo, smiling in front of the fresh blossoms.

“They’re all paired up now,” Yuki noted. “Megumi and Takumi, Alice and Kurokiba, Hayama and Hishoko-chi, Yukihira and Erina-chi. It’s so cute.”

“And a little frightening,” Marui replied. “I can only imagine the next generation.”

“Well, that’s your problem now, prof.” Yuki laughed a little bit of the thought of him having to contend with their crazy classmates’ offspring. Then she turned the page to reveal the students’ individual photos. Yuki groaned when she saw her picture. “I was so plain back then.”

“That’s not true,” Marui told her.

“How?” Yuki pointed to yearbook again. “Look at me and then look at Erina-chi, Alice-chi, Nikumi. Compared to them I practically faded into the background.”

“You were always vibrant,” he said. “Even when the people you mentioned were present, it was you that lit up the room every time.”

Yuki smiled a little bit. “Well, you were biased back then.”

Later, she gestured to another page as he was about to turn it, their fingers brushing in the process. “It’s the pregame before senior formal. How did that make it into the yearbook?”

“The better question is how did the pregame make it into my room?” he asked, scowling at the memory.

“I think we convinced you somehow,” Yuki said, grinning as the memories came back to her. “Besides, I helped you clean that time.”

“Literally only because your room was overrun with baby animals and you wanted to crash in there.”

“Details, details.” She waved the comment off. “Anyway, I don’t remember you being upset about my presence there back then.” Now that she thought about it, that night had been special in more ways than one. She turned the page again, trying to change the subject in her own mind. “Remember senior ditch day?”

“I remember carrying you back from the beach because you fell asleep,” he noted.

“Well I remember running up and down the beach to look for your stupid glasses.” In the end, Yuki had narrowly saved them from being pounded with a baseball bat—that watermelon game had always done more harm than good.

They remembered, and they remembered. And the more they remembered the more they forgot how they had ever been able to manage without one another.

They finally reached the photos from the alumni banquet—the event that had changed everything for the 92nd generation. “It’s almost a little bittersweet when you think about it,” she said as she read through the initial career choices of all their classmates. “Hayama and Hishoko-chi were over by the end of the night.”

“Ibusaki and Sakaki found an apartment together by the next day,” he added.

“And Megumi turned down her best offers to follow Yukihira to New York,” Yuki recalled. “Not that she ever told him that.”

“In the end, that’s probably what doomed their relationship,” Marui said somberly. “A sacrifice like that…” He shrugged. It was unimaginable for most people.

“I don’t know,” Yuki said. “From where I’m standing, I still wouldn’t call it a mistake to value a relationship that much. I mean, if I could do everything over…” She trailed off. No. She couldn’t take it there.

Marui suddenly spoke up. “I’d follow you,” he said, pushing his glasses further up his nose. “If I could do it again, I would follow you to Munich, to Prague, wherever.”

“I would stay.”

They let the truth hang between them for a moment, and then neither mentioned it again for the remainder of the visit.

After they finished helping Fumio-san move, Marui dropped her back at her hotel, and they hugged goodbye for a second too long.

“Get home safe, Yoshino-san,” he said. “Text me when your plane lands.”

“Yeah. I will.”

That night the silk beneath her felt distant, cold, and she longed for the cotton quilts of days past.

#shokugeki no soma #maryu #yuki x marui #yuki x zenji #polar star #yoshino yuki #marui zenji

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lightlesskingdom-dandd · 7 years

Text

Group A session 2 Highlights

Arc 1 Part 2: Decrepit Dungeons

Aware that they’re facing a very troublesome and powerful foe, the party attempt to pass Phineas without provoking a fight. Unfortunately, Zelda’s curiosity to see what’s on Phineas’s bookshelf is the final straw that triggers the god to attack them in order to subdue them. What can three poorly armed amnesiacs do against an actual god? Turns out more than expected, though with unsurprising results.

highlights under the cut:

Highlights:

- Ghirahim tries to intimidate Phineas. He instead ends up smiling, and then crying.

- Things were going well, relatively speaking, until Zelda decides to take a peek at Phineas’s bookcase. Everything goes to shit soon after when this triggers aggro.

- Vaati’s famous hair whipping in Phineas’s face causes the god to miss an otherwise deadly attack

- Ghirahim is dominated and forced to attack Vaati. His attack is so weak, however, that Vaati is spared.

- The adventures of Zelda + the two stooges continue when, in an attempt to break flasks of potion to distract Phineas, Vaati instead polishes the glass to a sparkling sheen.

- Vaati somehow managing to effortlessly carry Ghira, who is a clean foot taller than him.

- Phact helps. By not helping.

- Vaati’s Most Intense Vaping Session of His Life

- Zelda’s nat 20 once again on smashing a Gossip Stone. It turns out to be completely ineffective against Phineas. On the bright side, Gertrude is now canon in both Group A and Group B’s sessions.

- Vaati dies, leaving Zelda and Ghira devastated. When he returns, however, Zelda is relieved beyond words but Ghirahim is disturbed.

Discoveries:

- Phineas’s comment implies that this ‘isn’t the first time’ he’s had a conversation with the party regarding their situation; it’s likely he’s been erasing their memories often.

- Phineas is convinced he is ‘saving’ the party from the lightless world; that they won’t survive otherwise.

- Phineas is currently known to have two forms. One, humanoid, and he relies on bludgeoning. The second, a mist form that poisons and paralyzes anything it touches.

- The nature of Vaati’s death is unnatural, and both Phact and Phineas acknowledges this. Phineas calls his project ‘done,’ and takes Phact away to an unknown location.

- Upon death, there appear to be no negative consequences aside from losing 10-30 minutes of consciousness. In fact, those who die and are revived feel better than ever, and have all of their health and spell slots completely restored.

- A tall, robed figure visits those who have died. Vaati was unable to determine the identity of this individual. (Cia from session B, however, did, and this can be found in the Session B highlights from earlier).

- The party discovers half a legendary Scroll of Wish. The other half might be found elsewhere.

- The party remembers some of their earliest memories. Zelda, of her arranged marriage and of having once been royalty. Ghirahim, of having once served a goddess named Hylia. Vaati curiously does not remember much, though his feelings of anger have increased just a bit.

- The party discovers a map. There are two locations marked for being a possible location where ‘Acrux,’ an individual who supposedly has more of their memories, might be found. The party decides to travel East to hit one of the villages marked as Phineas’s ‘collection points’ on the way to one such Acrux mark.

- Zelda finds some of Phineas’s notes that provide some context on what has been going on. They are copied below:

Entry 1: “Thuban and Phact have been kept under my watch for some time now. Thuban has begun to bother me with questions regarding my projects. They say my motivations have become selfish, that I don’t actually want to help these mortals who have been doomed in this Lightless Kingdom. They don’t understand. How dare they lecture me.”

Entry 2: “Perhaps Thuban is right.”

Entry 3: “Acrux promised more collections to test in return for Memory Crystals. A fair deal.”

Entry 4: “... Damned Acrux stole more Memory Crystals than what was promised in the exchange. I’ve been duped.”

Entry 5: “I’m getting closer. The newest collections, especially the sword spirit and the hylian sorcerer, have taken to decline much better than the others. The princess I am struggling with the most, (and strangely, the blond boy for some reason). I wonder if it isn’t due to their past history…”

Entry 6: “It’s no use, they always end up the same, barely retaining their original characteristics. Mindless brutes that can do little more than attack on sight. Interestingly, these creatures know enough not to attack each other. Does that mean they at least recognize some kind of self, to be able to identify those who are like them and those who are not?”

Entry 7: “Thuban has been ruining the force field generators. They can’t affect the one containing their cell, but somehow they’ve managed to weaken the ones holding my collection. I am annoyed.”

Entry 8: “... A thought. Can gods be forced to decline as the mortals I have been testing?”

Entry 9: “Given our lawless state, would anyone care if, say, Thuban or Phact went missing? I doubt it…”

Entry 10: “Meridionalis has discovered my collections, and has taken to visiting them. It is annoying, but I cannot contest them. However, perhaps through them I have found a solution to create the new dominating lesser entities of this world…”

#group a: legend of furcon #lk highlights #(gonna leave this here but i have to go offline again. super. duper dead haha)

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wolfexiii · 7 years

Quote

When I was a kid, I hid my heart under the bed because my mother said, if you're not careful, someday, someone's gonna break it. Take it from me, under the bed is not a good hiding spot. I know because I've been shot down so many times I get altitude sickness just from standing up for myself. When I was a kid, I could fill a bookshelf with every way they told me how not to play. They'd say it's time to start putting childish things away, and I was like, fuck you, This is Skeletor. But more and more they made me believe that our hearts are like door knocks. And that's where we get the sounds of the beat. And I'll never get to meet the man inside me, if I can't stand still long enough to be there. I'll never make it anywhere if I keep running away, I'll never know myself if all I ever do is play Niki-Niki-Nine to where I don't wanna be a "man". When I was a kid, I wanted to be a "man". I wanted registered retirement savings, plan that would keep me and candy long enough to make old age sweet. I wanted two left feet, so I could dance circles around important issues, until way past my bed time. I'm not saying I don't have opinions. Just that others will less likely to argue if they were as tired as I was. Fatigue does to men what a good night kiss does to kids. It puts weight on our eyelids and returns us to a place where reason and imagination laced together shoes whose tongues stuck out at stillness and beckoned us to move forwards. As a kid I was always drawn toward moonlight. Despite an armada of adults who insisted I must set my days according to sunlight. I would lay in bed and fight sleep believing if I shut my eyes even for an instant I would miss out on something amazing. Turns out I was right. I have seen stars stamped into the night like cookie cutter designs. Drew lines between each one inventing new constellations, so when someone would ask me, what's your sign? I could point to mine. The one hanging over the first door past the finish line and say, "It's right there". The one marked exit because one day all this getting ahead bullshit will be over. And people will start looking for me and I'll be there. I'll wear my best flashing red and you will stand winner circle throughout bred I will unthread the screws that would put you throughout this life, then smile and say, "You made it". When I was a kid I traded in homework assignments for friendship, and gave each friend a late slip for never showing up on time, and in most cases not at all. I gave myself a hall pass to get through each broken promise, and I remember this plan born outta frustration. From a kid who kept calling me Yogi, then pointed to my tummy and said, too many picnic baskets? Turns out it's not too hard to trick someone and one day before class I said, Yeah, you can copy my homework. And I gave him all the wrong answers that I've written down the night before. He got his paper back expecting a near perfect score and he couldn't believe when he looked across the room at me and held up a zero. I know I didn't have to hold up my paper of 28/30. But my satisfaction was complete when he looked completely puzzled and I thought to myself, "Smarter than the average bear, Mother Fucker"! When I was a kid I slid love letters through the slots of lockers that belonged to my secret crushes. Built paintbrushes from the tiny hairs that stood up on end every time I saw them. My brain stem finally bloomed with thoughts I connected the dots and made masterpieces. Each brush stroke a thesis dedicated to the explanation that you, not knowing who I was, was only because anonymity made it easier to be brave. I dipped my brush into a tidal wave of I hope this will one day wash over me. I can guarantee if you've ever had a secret admirer it was someone very much like me. Who loved someone very much like you, it was someone who wanted to tell you how much you've meant, how every second we spent thinking of you, was simply the cost of getting us through the hard times, we saved nickels and dimes hoping our first date would be with you. So the discipline of love we gave up comic books and video games, and I promise you every guy I've ever met remembers the names of the ones they loved first. That our thirst for love continues as we cross the deserts of maybe, believing we will find an oasis of yes... We Acquiesce... Yes... We probably should just have said something, but we were chicken shit. We lit the fuses of our hearts and exploded every time you walked on by. When I was a kid, I did stupid shit. I ripped out the women's underwear section out of the Sears Christmas wish catalog and blamed it on my Grandad. He did end up covering for me and this is all he had to say. "You're only twelve! So I'm impressed, but take it from experience, don't hide that under your mattress." So I didn't. I hid it in an empty box of a board game I never used to play, and on the day when my grandmother eventually found it she reamed him out for hiding pornography in her Grandson's bedroom. The impending doom of the truth set upon me like a die in the sun sending it's last ray of light over the horizon and aimed directly at me. He didn't say a word incurred the full wrath and laughed with me later, sayin' it's like your heart it doesn't matter where you hide it. Lovers are like little kids lifting up a rock looking for an insect, they will find that shit. When I was a kid, I trusted myself enough to know that one day, I'd be a man. One day I'd have a childhood for a past and a future for a backup plan. That every gauntlet I ever ran was a potato sack race in which time would chase me further toward an ending. I am bending myself back to the beginning. Reminding myself there is no winning any race against yourself. Slow down... And when the kid in you falls, turn around, pick them up, dust them off, then continue. Trust me, you're gonna need that kid. You're gonna need someone to remind you that every weed, is a flower. Just trying to make shit work. And every jerk you ever encounter is just another someone who somehow forgot it's okay, to need a hug. It's okay, to be afraid. When I was a kid, I played hopscotch with the lines that's drawn on the sand and landed on the conclusion that second hand clothes, at last benefit of experience, and I've got a 137th hand heart. Broken apart and stitched back together at the seams. I've cartwheeled across balance beams made from the broken finger bones of people who could not let go of this life. I still love the night. I love the fact that if you squint your eyes just right, stars look like porcupines of light, stumbling across the dark, dipping their quills into the night. Trying to write apologies for all of the unanswered wishes from the times we once wished upon them. Sometimes I still wish. Most times I wish I didn't have to. I wish I didn't have to wish. So what I guess I am saying is that I hope, I hope I never forget that kid who grew up inside me. You just seemed to laugh a little bit louder. Smile just a little bit longer, love a whole lot stronger. World's first official awesome, taking "awesome" from door to door. Take as much as you need, don't worry about me I've got more. I've got a candy store filled with whatever it's going to take to make tomorrow sweet. I've got two left feet and no bedtime. I'm still not brave enough to have an orgy, but I rock the slumber party, come nap with me. First one to fall asleep loses, first one to fall asleep wins... The race stops at the start and the finish line is where it begins, so this time first one to lose, wins. I know, we never meant to turn our hearts into garbage bins. It was an accident. I know headlines about us giving up were a misprint and really just bad reporting. I know why we've been boarding up all the windows from the outside in. We've been doing it ever since they told us to start letting things go. And I know we've got into the habit of throwing everything away. But your heart is a door knock, and every time it beats. It's just that kid's way of saying... "Can you please come out and play?"

When I was a kid, Sean Koyczan

#Sean Koyczan #When I was a kid #poetry #The short story long #spoken word poetry

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recentanimenews · 5 years

Text

Manga the Week of 7/31/19

SEAN: Most of the rest of Yen is next week, though some got delayed to August. And lots of other publishers as well.

Dark Horse has the 3rd volume of Mob Psycho 100. Actually, that may have come out this week. Dark Horse release dates are ephemeral things.

MICHELLE: This is a pretty fun series.

ASH: I really like it so far!

SEAN: Ghost Ship gives us To-Love-Ru Darkness 11.

J-Novel Club only has one release next week, but its title is so long it counts as three. Seriously Seeking Sister! Ultimate Vampire Princess Just Wants Little Sister – Plenty of Service Will Be Provided! (Tonikaku Imouto ga Hoshii Saikyou no Kyuuketsuki wa Mujikaku Gohoushichuu) is a one-volume light novel about a vampire princess and her desire for a cute little sister. It sounds dire, but who knows?

MICHELLE: Dire, indeed.

ANNA: I feel confident about forgetting this exists.

SEAN: Kodansha, in print, has UQ Holder 17.

Kodansha, digitally, has much much more. First, we have a debut, The Slime Diaries. This is a comedy spinoff of the Reincarnated as a Slime series.

ASH: I did enjoy much of the original series more than expected.

SEAN: Also debuting in volume form (individual chapters have been released previously) is Farewell, My Dear Cramer. A sports manga that’s a sequel to Sayonara Football (which got no attention over here) and by the creator of Your Lie in April (which certainly did), I’ve heard good things about it. Girls’ soccer, in case you were wondering.

MICHELLE: I hadn’t realized the history of this series or its creator. I was just, all, “Ooh, sports manga.”

ANNA: Did someone say sports manga?

ASH: Indeed!

SEAN: And we have new volumes for Asahi-sempai’s Favorite (5), Back Street Girls (12 and final), Domestic Girlfriend (19), Drowning Love (13), Hotaru’s Way (10), Kakafukaka (8), and My Boy in Blue (11). Kakafukaka is hard to read but highly underrated.

MICHELLE: Hooray for more digital josei!

ANNA: One day I might catch up….one day…..

SEAN: Seven Seas makes up for barely having any releases at the start of the month. Debuting is the manga version of My Next Life as a Villainess! All Routes Lead to Doom!, based on the light novel. I love Katarina, and want to see her in any format. (Also, anime next year!)

We also see D-Frag! 13, Fairy Tale Battle Royale 3, Grimgar of Fantasy and Ash 10 (print version), Harukana Receive 4, Miss Kobayashi’s Dragon Maid 8, Mushoku Tensei’s light novel 2 (print) and 3 (digital), and the 4th Precarious Woman Executive Miss Black General.

Sol Press announced something that’s out this week, but I wasn’t able to get it into last week’s MtWo so here it is. Two manga titles. How to Treat a Lady Knight Right (Ima made Ichido mo Onna Atsukaisareta Koto ga nai Jokishi wo Onna Atsukai Suru) runs in Kodansha’s Suiyoubi no Sirius, and is about a knight who’s always been seen as a muscley sort getting treated as an attractive women. She spends the next 3+ volumes of the manga looking shy and blushing heavily, from what I can tell. This screams “not for me”.

ASH: I mean, I’m definitely a fan of knights who are women, but…

SEAN: They also have The Ride-On King, from the creator of Golosseum, which is about a Putin with the serial numbers filed off and his adventures being awesome. It’s for those who want more titles like Golosseum or those who think Russia is awesome.

Vertical has the novel version of Voices of a Distant Star, subtitled Words of Love/Across the Stars. I seem to recall this wasn’t as depressing as the creator’s other movies. Slightly.

JY, Yen’s young adult line, has the Little Witch Academia light novel. Enjoy Akko being Akko in prose form as well!

ASH: I somehow missed or completely forgot that Yen has a young adult line???

SEAN: They also have the 4th Zo Zo Zombie.

Yen On gives us three new debuts. Bottom-Tier Character Tomozaki is for all those who want gaming but without the fantasy isekai aspect. Tomozaki is an awesome gamer, but fails at real life, which he describes as a horrible game. Then he meets a girl who’s not only as good a gamer as he is, but explains how to win at life too. Fans of My Youth Romantic Comedy Etc. should like this.

The Dirty Way to Destroy the Goddess’s Heroes is not as naughty as the title makes it sound. A demon King, who wants to live in peace but heroes keep attacking him, hires a Japanese boy to take care of them. This proves to be a mistake, as the boy goes a bit overboard.

ASH: That could be entertaining.

SEAN: Last Round Arthurs: Scum Arthur and Heretic Merlin has a very Magical Index feel, possibly as they share the same artist. Our hero is tired of his boring life, so teams up with a girl to become the next successor to King Arthur.

There’s also another Final Fantasy tie-in novel, Final Fantasy XIII-2: Fragments Before, as well as The Saga of Tanya the Evil 6 and Sword Art Online Alternative: Gun Gale Online 4, which starts a new arc.

Print manga debuts. There’s The Alchemist Who Survived Now Dreams of a Quiet City Life (Ikinokori Renkinjutsushi wa Machi de Shizuka ni Kurashitai), whose light novel is out in September. It’s about a run-of-the-mill alchemist who ends up in stasis to save herself, and after coming out of it finds there aren’t any more alchemists in the world! How will she live her quiet, boring life? Sounds like it’s for fans of Killing Slimes for 300 Years. It runs in B’S LOG Gomic.

ASH: This could be interesting, too.

SEAN: Secretly I’ve Been Suffering About Being Sexless (Jitsu wa Watashi Sexless de Nayandemashita) is done in one, and ran in Comic Flapper. It’s about a married woman trying to figure out what to do when her libido is much larger than her husband’s.

ASH: I’ll admit, I’m curious to see how this premise is handled.

Manga Bookshelf’s Pick of the Week (OK, I’m just guessing, but pretty sure I’m right) is debuting next week as well. Skull-Faced Bookseller Honda-san (Gaikotsu Shotenin Honda-san) already has a cult classic anime, and this is the manga, which ran in Gene Pixiv. It’s about… well, the title says it all. This looks fantastic.

MICHELLE: Well, your guess is right on my end, at least. I’ve only seen a little of the anime, but it is charming and I’m really looking forward to reading this.

ANNA: Me too!

ASH: I am so, so looking forward to this series!!

SEAN: We also get first volumes of light novel adaptations with Torture Princess (an omnibus, done in one) and Woof Woof Story.

A lot of ongoing titles moved to August, but we do see Interspecies Reviewers 2 (bleah) and Sacrificial Princess and the King of Beasts 6 (yay!).

ASH: Shoujo fantasy for the win!

SEAN: Lots of new series next week. Perhaps you could ask a skull-faced bookseller what works for you?

By: Sean Gaffney

#Anime #News #Manga Bookshelf

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